Steve Heron: 'Picturesque'

'Picturesque'

Track Review

9.7/10.0

Over-precise, nervy promotion, and the marble sheen of the modern market, could do well to follow the charming, everyman appeal of this sagacious Scot.

Availability: 'Picturesque' is available at: http://www.youtube.com/user/steveheronofficial?feature=watch

___________________________________________________________________________

His existence began more-or-less the same time as mine...

but Steve Heron trajectory is a lot more prosperous and fascinating than me. He is a veritable James Dean, to my Steve Guttenburg. It would be too easy to be jealous of the lucky son of a biatch (sic.); but a little lesson in context, may go a way to steering away from any mythology and giving the (slightly) more mature statement, a thorough appraisal. No iambic tetameter; no glib NME-esque brevity; we need to delve deeper. First off, it is worth noting that once upon a time, music used to be imbued and defined by a marked maturity and professionalism. Not to come off as a premature old man, but back- I would suspect- in the '60s and '70s, bands and acts did not have to be subjected to any analytic vetting. The market was a lot more freewheelin' and all-inclusive; there was little common cause or rash generalisations, when pertaining to age, ambition, spirit or talent. The demographic and creative shift, has moved perpendicular with an advanced technological age. If it weren't for wistful retro-active needs to relive a past age, or a fervant underground, then the narrow brackets and narrow-mindedness of the music industry, could well neuter anyone over 30. The greatest lyricists alive today are in their '70s; the finest and most pioneering bands are over 35, and the most noteworthy and revered examples of the breed are a lot more experienced than the likes of Ed Sheeran. Heron is a young man, with an older gent's quality and integrity. He is able to come across as cultured and well-informed without the need to pander to the stuffy core. I mention age not as a study of longitudinals within music, nor as a study of the correlation between mortality, success and lifespan either. I do so because it is a sad and sorry state of affairs that what is considered trendy or fresh is seen as equivocal to deserved spotlight and focus. It is a false equivolency and should cause much shamed head-hanging amongst a somewhat fickle and discriminate public and media. It is a pleasure to discover acts and musicians with genuine personality, an innate understanding of the needs of the music-buying public, whom have no credence or time for pointless memetic epidemeology or sarcastic addendum.

Which, rather aptly, leads to be to a curiously-named Mr. Heron. Like the powder down monophyletic birds; Steve has a similar cosmopolitan appeal, he has a carnivorous hunger, and yet displays beautiful and striking plumage- brilliant sounds and fascinating insights are to be found. Unfortunately, there is also a rather indigenous and narrow colonisation to his influence and legacy. That is going to change, very soon. Let me give you a little biography, to set the scene. His Twitter account, rather colourfully and playfully begins: "You can stuff it up your arse for nothing..."; showing that our man has a refreshing proletariat appeal. He is no tabloid editor, as his assorted social media pages are professional, detailed; giving a great depth and appreciation for his lot in life, as well as where he came from; and, where is going to. A lot of southern contemporaries- and being from Surrey, I am as white bread and reserved as they come- are rather stuffy and conservative. Steve is a guy, and intent on having a bloody good time, taking his music to the masses. Angus McGuire, Simon Gibb and Alan Lamb, are noble comrades, adding colour to Steve's songs. That said, Steve is a positive one-man-band, playing a range of instruments, including guitar and keyboard. He is, as attested to on Facebook, the creator of "Melodramtic Popular Song". The chap enjoys Jeff Buckley, The Smiths and The Boss. But don't go looking for scars and bruises under the clothing; Heron has a rollicking glee and reckless abandon to his sound that is quite infectious and joyful. I like him already as Buckley is my musical icon. Furthermore, Independant Music News praised him for "pushing the indie sound"; "Catchy as hell" is how The Buzz Stop described his sound, whilst "Edinburgh's prodigcal son" impressed Bainbridge Edinburgh. Having released a successful and much-celebrated album 'Honest One' in 2011, Heron has gigged with the likes of Razorlight, The Cribs and The Marvels. It is through a staunch and imperious heads-down work attitude that has earned the guys a loyal following, and to be whispered in the same breathe as some world-class acts, is no fluke. It is the combination of such concentrated and stunning influences; coupled with a savvy utilisation of the local scene as well as social media, that has lead to such fevered anticipation for the new track. It will be nursed to the public bosom, and create a frenzy of speculative legions to drop their Beady Eye and East India Youth C.D.'s, and listen hard!

First impressions can- in the wrong hands- say little, or can be seen as a second sight. For me, being used to writing; and having been a devotee of many genres for nearly 3 decades, feel that I had an intuitive and informative edge, when listening to 'Picturesque'. There is a rousing, closeness centrality, almost Motown-tinged blast to the intro's initial stage. The percussion slams and kicks with steel to-capped boots, as the swirling audio feast unfurls, capable to exhume the deceased in its potent crack. There are shades of The Zutons- a lot of their debut album contained a similar energy and sound. With the breathless brass proclamations, combined with 'Human Touch'-era Bruce Springsteen majesty and fun, it is an invigorating and mazzy dance which greets the eager listener. There is still a sense of the sound of funk, soul and blues in the style and sound. It is a wandering and friendly beast. The sway and dance continues with little sign of exhaustion or strain, as the vocal arrives to chaperon. There is a fleeting, yellow teeth grin to Kevin Rowland, in the rawer edge to the vocal. There is a similar undertone of merriment and revelry to the pronunciation and hew, yet plenty of sweetness, with a smidge of Robert Smith punk bite too. It is during the elongated, flighted vocal hold during "I don't want/Anything else", manages to transition between the '80s parable with punk and pop, and elicits a little OK Social Club-cum-Ryan Adams hybrid. Steve displays a strong and unquenchable power and pureness to his voice. It is unaffected by the modern age, and balances a soul-tinged heartache with an Alpha Male rock swagger; never pitting the two against one another, instead infusing them; with combustible consequence. There is an indie sensibility, with modern-age tableuxs about false start sexual endeavour, clashed personalities and an inherent passion to have you hooked by its catchyness. In spite of the fact: "Hearts are like jaws/Sometimes they get broken", there is little malice or ill intention. It is a matter-of-fact equation, and is the sort of lyric Adams might well pen. It is hard to shake off the perpetual motion of energy and excitement. There are relentless blasts of horns, subtle endeavouring guitar licks, hiding in the back, but holding the mood upright. The percussion is a combination of steady rolling and a forceful avalanche effect, which gives a solid and determined backbone to the track. The sound and innovations are definitely those of a broad-shouldered Scot. There is no androgynous, Lilly-sniffing, bootcut jean-wearing, hair-gel wasting feminine whimpering. Our man Steve has power in them there lungs, and could belt this song from the terraces, and be heard and respected. In spite of the fact that he a young man, with an educated, mature and developed mind, he has not lost the knack of being able to weave child-like glee into his notes and notation. "Your sorries/Get you caught" are the words of a man who has seen it before, and been there. With experienced conviction and perhaps a few scars for his troubles, the lines seem commonplace in his mindset. After the 3/4 mark, there is a musical interlude, complete with charged and focused drums and guitar, before we come back into the streets. There is some proffering from a wise heart, and a Newton's Cradle of Motown/soul, before we end, and are given chance to sum out.

I am a new listener to Steve Heron, immersed as I have been in the sounds of Manchester, as of late. He has an impressive and stunning back catalogue, and a wide arsenal of sounds and shifts to his style. He has a rock heart and hard fists when he needs them, but is a lovable, gentle giant one would suspect. Based on the stylish flair and smile of 'Picturesuqe', he is imploring you to love him and his music. The lyrics can be sharp, but always witty; capable as he is of being able to blend Morrissey's sharp barbs, and Marr's curious and intelligent sense of music and sound. If you are not familiar with Mr. Heron, wake up...

... and make yourself happy.

__________________________________________________________________________________

Facebook:

http://www.facebook.com/#!/steveheronmusic

Twitter:

https://twitter.com/stevejheron

SoundCloud:

http://soundcloud.com/steveheron

YouTube:

http://www.youtube.com/user/steveheronofficial

iTunes:

https://itunes.apple.com/gb/artist/steve-heron/id414581880

Reverb Nation:

http://www.reverbnation.com/steveheron

BandCamp:

http://steveheron.bandcamp.com/album/honest-one

The Autumnkind: 'Temporary'- Track Review

'Temporary'- Track Review

9.3/10.0

The arrested development of seasonal change, provides a chance for well-considered electioneering from barn-storming quartet.

Availability: 'Temporary' is available now at: http://theautumnkind.bandcamp.com/album/cartography

___________________________________________________________________________

4-piece bands are probably as old as Tom Jones' chest hair clippers...

and like the rather put-upon follicle trimmers, the nature of musical quartets has been subject to prosperity, entropy and hairy times. The '60s is probably when the beautiful baby boy was born forth. There were some rather sticky formative years; prepubescent struggle occurred at the arrival of the 1970s. During the 1980s, with one or two exceptions, it went completely off of the rails, before finding love, growing up, and settling down during the early '90s. Time, fortune and fashions have passed, and over the last 10 years or so there has been a somewhat mixed bag of success in the market. The most successful and memorable wards of the state, tend to err on the heavier side; force and conviction are favoured over melodic and demure.

The circadian rythms of the scene have scene a lot of movement happening towards the north- particularly the Manchester and Leeds areas. There has been a lot of a much of a muchness. With all the faux-heartbroken front-men, swooning precociously about their disgraced former-beau, dragged asunder by the forces of melancholy and ill-fate. To be honest there is a little bit of a stale smell forming in the kitchen. It is about time someone cracked a window, and breathed some fresh life into the mix. Aside from the proclivities and swaggering there is something happening elsewhere.

The Autmnkind, are, in their own words a "melodic leftfield rock" assemble; and consist front-man Marc Ozall, drummer Simon Treasure, guitarist Adam Lunn, and bass player Martin Bradford-Gago. They released debut E.P. 'The Shipping Forecast' way back in 2009; following an impressive period playing some of London's top venues. They managed to toppled Michael Jackson and Robbie Williams in the Amazon download charts, and following on from their second release 'Words and Sounds', they entered choppier, rockier waters. Following some tumultuous band changes over the next few months, including the departure of their bass player. After some negotiations and good fortune, a new, strengthened band was created, and a new lease of life and invigoration provided. In 2012, the band headed into the studio to begin work on their E.P. 'Cartography'. It was unleashed into the public domain in August of last year, and has been gathering new fans, steady press and repeated plays amongst a loyal base. New followers have flocked to see the band perform, and it seems that the solid and revitalised group have an extraordinary confidence and ambition to them. They have a keen eye for names and design as well. I often have postulated in my head what the 'Autumnkind' refers to. It sounds like the kind of name, Hollywood whackos such as Tom Cruise would name their daughter; were any woman foolish enough to let that happen. A much cooler scenario would be former-Detective Autumnkind. I'd imagine a grizzled rogue cop, drummed out of the force for not 'playing by the rules'. He would while away many a day, cigarette hanging from his mouth, staring from his London window, surveying the citizens below. Any day now, he would get the call from a desperate band of computer hackers, duped and tricked into a sticky situation they did not envisage. If only there were a man who could pound the streets, shake the lapels of all the loyal scum, in a noble, fervent bid to get results and answers. He would have his own show, and a suitably kick-ass theme song. Anyway, I digress! I'll let the songs, or in this instance, song, do the theatrical, filmic talking.

With the intriguing and mysterious E.P. cover, and curious batch of awesome tunes, I am focusing my attentions on the ironically-named 'Temporary'. I say 'ironically', as the indelible impression the track will leave in your hippocampus. The song is the penultimate track of the E.P. and begins with plaintive and explorative strum, it has an instant, subcutaneous allure. It is an intriguing and sweet guitar call. It reminded me of Jeff Buckley, and his early days wowing stunned audiences in the New York coffee house of Sin-e. There is also some The Bends-era Radiohead, and that influence, complete with an updated and cutting edge, adds authority and a huge credence to the intro. It is dreamy, with a country edge; beckoning with a soul fleck; an intertwining polygamia in its rock ambitions. The pulsing, break dance of guitar that enters the fray, shakes the cobwebs away, and invigorates a rush of blood to the head. It is the band's Socratic Method of teaching their contemporaries, how to create a simple and effective intro. It runs a similar line, curiously, to that of Queen of the Stone Age's 'No One Knows'. It has that same bounce and pogo punch to it, albeit a little less muted. We have whizzed and perambulated from '90s New York, to '00s California, via '70s London in the space of a short, few seconds. Perhaps there is a little bit of 'Chelsea Dagger' to the closing stages too. There promises to be a forthcoming singalong afoot, and the musical tapestry defies you not to throw your chair across the room and dance, regardless of how crazy it makes you look. Marc has a smooth and mature edge to his voice, and enunciates with clarity. The issue I have with a lot of bands is that they garble words, or bury them under a rubble of noise and chord progression. If you can't well hear the lyrics, you only are aware of, and able to evaluate about half of the song. There is a pleasingly credible pop tone to the delivery as well. There is no brutish barbed-wired delivery, which so many employ, needlessly. It means that the sentiments and home truths resonate much clearly and with more heart, thus creating a more potent emotional response. Take the following: "... I can't get it through to you/My petal/You're not going to get your way". The context suggests disharmony and a rather painful and complicated back-story between out hero and and out-of-favour former sweetheart. The content suggests a sharp tongue and a sarcastic wit. There has been a dissapropriation in the home town and our front-man is sending a clear message to our anonymous heroin(e). The vocal tones have, I'd dare say- and not in a demeaning way- elements of McFly. Those bobble-headed pop bozos were demonstrative and ineffectual to a tee, but had a knack of being able to convey a pure, populist manifesto, and make their irrelevant sentiments, stick. Marc and the boys have a mature, intelligent, and bon-mot infused wit, and are able to punctuate their sentiments, with a glorious simplicity and effectiveness. In the same way that there are stoner rock knuckles, able to cohabitate with genuine '90s U.S. rock, they also can co-mingle classic British rock with a modernised pop-rock template. When it is said that "I could tell you that I'm sorry/But you know that it's a lie", the atmosphere is light and melodic, supporting the earnest and honest sentiments, profess. The sound manages to stay within the borders of '60s pop, and modern rock; displaying no inferiority or signs of weakness. The band support their brother with fraternal understanding. The percussion is not too heavy-handed; instead it keeps an emotional heartbeat constant, and keeps the track level and straight-thinking. The guitar and bass work are statesmen-like and solid. Between them, they manage to conjure a sonic transmogrification that shifts the mood, from 1:20-1:28. The energy and strut keeps going hard, never missing a beat, and as the intriguing-cum-mysterious lines, "I'm only/A metaphor/For your direction" are stretched and syncopated, it adds another colour to the palette. The lyrics are not phoned in or given little consideration as to their pronunciation and delivery. Certain words and lines are infused with energy; others allowed to relax; alliteration here, modulation there. This means that there is a constant thoughtfulness and shape-shifting. The chorus is breezy and tinged with sunshine, which combined with the lyrical theme, gives it a white and blue collar appeal, and brings a smile to your face, whether that is the band's intention, or not. The entire track is a little under 3:50, and it seems much shorter when listening, making it memorable, tight and a little bit of a tease.

'Temporary' is a fine and noble cut from the E.P. It is usually the track 'Glasshouses' that gathers most attention and plaudit (and it is a similarly brilliant track). 'Temporary' is neatly placed at the 3/4 mark, and acts as a propulsive and fresh sound, following 'Glasshouses' more serious and emotional nature; and comes before the harder, trippier sound of E.P. swansong, 'Time Will Tell'. I was thoroughly impressed by The Autumnkind's creative annals. They have endured a tough upbringing, with a changeable roster of members, and a bumpy road. They have a bright, promising future, and have a sound and popular edge that will see them transcend the boundaries of rock and pop, and unite and invigorate any tired camps, hungry for new tones and a fresh impetus. If you have a few spare moments, then they deserve a lot of attention, and based solely on the strength of 'Temporary'; they will be gaining...

... a large, new following.

__________________________________________________________________________________

Facebook:

http://www.facebook.com/theautumnkind

Twitter:

https://twitter.com/theautumnkind

iTunes:

https://itunes.apple.com/gb/artist/the-autumnkind/id318192876

YouTube:

http://www.youtube.com/theautumnkind

MySpace:

http://www.myspace.com/theautumnkindmusic

Reverb Nation:

http://www.reverbnation.com/theautumnkindmusic

Anna von Hausswolff : 'Deathbed'- Track Review

'Deathbed'-  Track Review

10.0/10.0

It is the combustive sound of a modern and agile talent, and the pleasing tones and childlike beauty of Kate Bush.

Availability: 'Deathbed' is available now at: http://soundcloud.com/cityslang/anna-von-hausswolff-deathbed

___________________________________________________________________________

There is another shift happening in the female solo market...

at the moment. Well, maybe not a shift as such, but a definite segregation of tonality and quality. There is a- unfortunately majority- section of female singers who have quite fey and listless voices. I'm thinking of the like of Ellie Goulding and Lucy Rose. There is a mutated subsection, that begins evolution along the same aesthetic lines; then layers of makeup is applied, garish clothing is adorned, and purulent nonsense, and meaningless fluff is emanated forth. I am referring to the likes of Katy Perry, Lady GaGa and their ilk. Within that subsection there is a little redemptive quality, such as Little Dancer. The other, less subscribed group comprises the powerful and intriguing. Reigned by current head of state Adele, there are successors to the throne such as Jessie Ware, Laura Marling and so forth. The former have an inherent planned obsolescence. They suspect they will not be on the scene for a long time, choosing to spend their sojourn of creative existing creating high-energy and so called 'feminist' and 'empowering' songs. They are fooling no one. For anyone who can read or hear, the songs and combined discography amounts to seldom more than sub-par Madonna posturing. The latter fare better; possessing impressive and diverse vocals, able to write provoking lyrics, with a keen ear for simplicity and effectiveness. The one thing I would say about this crew is that there is little.... shock. Good shock, that is. Rarely do you drop your head with exasperation and awe; eyes watering and mouth a rictus of catatonic glee. Of course that sort of visceral reaction is hard to come by; but when it does occur, it is worth talking about.

Having garnered some recent positive press from The Girls Are and The Quietus, Anna von Hausswolff is a seductive siren, with a business plan that contains a very promising profit and loss statement. She hails from Sweden, as you may have guess from the fore, and surname. She is incredibly striking, projecting a safe and seductive aesthete of a girl-next-door, but gorgeous and alluring as well; one suspects she could make men drop to their knees, from a shy look alone. Having just been signed to City Slang records, she is riding a creative and professional high. This label houses the likes of Arcade Fire, so you won't need me to tell you that her music, is not exactly going to be sound-tracking an episode of One Tree Hill. She is a 26-year-old goddess whom has wowed and intoxicated her native land with her beguiling voice. That is something I will get to anon. Her debut E.P. 'Track of Time' was released back in 2010, and followed it with the album 'Singing from the Grave'. Critics and fans were a combined mass of admiration, with notable comparisons made to Kate Bush and Antony Hegarty. Obviously there is a ferbile approximation to the latter, but it is the Bush comparisons that are most relevant, and spellbinding. I will add more depth to the analogy within the main body of the review, but you cannot help but to shake off that same breathless wonder you receive after witnessing a Kate Bush vocal turn. There is the same accumulative super-naturalness and infantile innocence, that strikes you hardest. Anna's new album 'Ceremony' will be released on June 17th, and promises to stagger, bludgeon and woe you with an eclectic and heady mixture of that voice, fertile and inspirational compositions, and acute and memorable lyrics. As you may have guessed from the subsequent and previous album and E.P. titles, there is a funereal motif and uniformity to Anna's work ethic. Don't go expecting any Joy Division morbidity or suicidality to her personality, or ambitions. She is more than the sum of any predefined and prejudged parts. There is a parts Nick Cave, P.J. Harvey and Elizabeth Fraser to her, and the lead-off single 'Deathbed' promising, perhaps more than anyone would or could possible expect.

Any sort of safe and common adjectives that I was going to use, in order to give my initial impression of the track, have been struck through, and repatriated. The opening notes are produced by an ominous, yet intense. It is a church organ, that holds and floats magisterially above the congregation, and there were a number of avenues, perhaps, the song could take. The sound of the organ hold is similar to that heard on Wild Beasts' track 'The Fun Powder Plot', only invested with darker, smokier flavours. I was curious if there would be a similar nimble vocal performance forthcoming, or something more restrained. With only a minuscule hint of quasi-modulation the organ holds for well over a minute. It is haunting, intergalactic, and reverent, in the way it shifts, confounds, intrigues, ennoculates and aneasthitises. Just after the 1:1o marker, there is a trippy and odd sounding guitar blast. If you listen to the end of Queen of the Stone Age's 'Make It Wit Chu', it manifests a similar romantic stoner echoing. With a running time of 8:38, the track has the ambition of a '70s rock classic. The guitar throbs appear as a counterpointed punctuation to the organ, which, although possessing less volume now, is an unerring and emotive element. Switching from emotive-less and monotone, the guitar becomes an ambiotic and more distressed animal. It wails and howls; cries and calls out to you. If you were to visualise the therianthropic brood of the track, I, for one was transported to a dark and damp street. There is nobody around, aside from the occasional passing car. The streets are dimly lit, and there is a noxious tension in the air. I am minded to clutch tight to my meagre possessions, in fear that they will be absconded. The tension is nauseating, and there is a relentless smell of tobacco smoke in the doorways. As I walk towards a familiar neon light, nestling between a closed bar and a theatre, there is a narrow alleyway, protected by a beaten and sturdy blue door. A pale woman stands by the door and nods with familiarity. The weather is becoming more hostile; the rain beating savagely, the wind is numbing and totalitarian. The sonic sound-scape really does conjure a myriad of strange and nocturnal scenes. There is an unpredictable and swaying aroma of dis-calm; tattooed with converse virtues of puritanical respect and voyeuristic bravery. It is what Byron would have created if he were a musician, rather than a poet. Around 3:20 there is the hallucinogenic buzz saw sound of flat organ; as a marching band drumbeat, with no consideration for the laws of the Doppler Effect, heralds a sea change. There is a lightning buzz of electrics, infusing the song with a Pirc Defense of structure. There is fuzzy, scuzzy guitar; withdrawal effect of organ; an ellipsis before a bullet hole drum slam. The guitar becomes more cohesive; there is a bluesy, beautiful string articulation, building a sense of Prog Rock-cum-'60s psychedelia. The vocal then arrives, and the unquestionable Bush memisis is an axiomatic tautlogy. It is evident there is influence, but the previous musical orgasm, combined with an alliterative lyrical tone, suggest that face value overrides skin deep, in any stereotyped summations. There are elements of 'The Dreaming/Hounds of Love'-era Bush in the vocal style and adventure. The fusing of vocal balletic and musical pioneering is similar to P.J. Harvery and Massive Attack. The words employ a sense of emotional fatigue and love-gone-bad recollection: "I gave all/I gave in". Anna has a glorious sweetness, but also a gymnastic and supple elasticity to her range, capable of portraying an anagrammatical array of emotions and shades. She can growl, and sigh; scream breathy, and dominates the mood with omnipotence and conviction. In the same way that Wild Beasts' front-man Hayden Thorpe combines tenor and countertenor; barking, trilling, screaming, angelically growling, Anna has a similar talent, able to operatically summon up a riot of passion and pain. After the vocal passage, there is a gorgeous swim of organ and drum which is parts Groove Armada, parts The Doors. The organ continues to ride and purge, carrying the song to its exhausted conclusion.

It is not just the song as a whole which overwhelms you entirely; it is also the general unexpectedness of it all. I have written an 8:01 song called 'Vanity Mirror', in the- somewhat ambitious- mould of 'Paranoid Android'. It consists of 7 distinct phases and parts, and combines interchangeable music and a lot of vocal. If you were to look at the running time of 'Deathbed', you'd imagine that there would be: a short but building intro; a traditional chorus-verse-chorus structure, complete with a large proportion of vocal and musical interplay. Anna's masterpiece consists of 90% music, compared with a fleeting, yet ecstatic vocal interjection. The song is all mood, build, intrigue and eliciting the maximum amount of emotional resonance, from sparse organ and drum (and guitar of course). There is a sense of humour at the wake, and never a sense of dirge, depression or self-flagellation. It, instead, is magisterial and empirically stupendous. Anna proves that she has a remarkable voice that can blend influences seamlessly, yet never leans too heavily. It is one that is full of mystery and wonder, imploring you to fall still under her spell. The star of the show, may even be the music itself- which is unexpected. It is consistently engaging and hypnotic, leaving you spellbound and sweaty after the first listen.

Iceland produced Bjork, and near-neighbours Sweden have not produced a huge amount of similarly fascinating and gripping artists over the last 15 years or so. Anna is going to be hot property very, very soon. She may have gained a predominately localised fervour and adoring fan-base, thus far; yet has shown on the evidence here, she can deftly conquer and crush the comparatively meagre competition. She shares only a collegial relationship with her counterparts, and in a media scene with such much schadenfreude present, I am going to be one of the first to proclaim that her forthcoming album will be on the lips and tongues of many reviewers, critics and fans alike come June. If my proclamations and words have seemed like rank psychologism, I apologise, but rare are the occasions when one is presented with such a stunning piece of music. Perhaps it is a subjective viewpoint, considering my combined love for the likes of P.J. Harvey, Nick Cave, Kate Bush and the like, but the song spoke to me, and has genuinely inspired me. My pet projects and much-amended songs have been infused with new relevance and inspiration, and I personally cannot wait until the album is released. In fact, I may explode before then. For the time being I shall calm my nerves with a dose of liberal, restrained U.K. artists, and only dream of what Anna's album will contain. If you are skeptical as to the perceived popularity that Anna has gained, I will referee. It is by being bold, different, and outside of the nucleus of modern music that herald the most incredible long-term rewards. To those uninitiated and virgins to this style of chamber music-cum-progressive pop, then it is quite normal to be afraid of the dark. It is perfectly normal, but I shall leave you with a quote from philosopher Herodotus: "Great things are won...

... by great danger".

__________________________________________________________________________________

Official:

http://www.annavonhausswolff.com/

Facebook:

http://www.facebook.com/annavonhausswolff

iTunes:

https://itunes.apple.com/gb/artist/anna-von-hausswolff/id351852229

MySpace:

http://www.myspace.com/vonhausswolff

Last FM:

http://www.last.fm/music/Anna+von+Hausswolff

Spotify:

http://open.spotify.com/artist/1eiXrvua27VlWgZ9kiaIn6

Dead Sea Navigators: 'Actors' & 'Crellin'

'Actors' & 'Crellin'

Track Reviews:

9.8/10. & 9.9/10.0

They modestly claim to be '"not everyone's cup of tea". If that were true, that is going to change very, very soon.

Availability: 'Actors' and 'Crellin' available now via: https://itunes.apple.com/gb/album/uncharted-ep/id479659088

___________________________________________________________________________

A lack of innovation, personality and concern for design...

pervades a majority of the music scene right now. There is a lot of wayward egotism; a fervency towards the predictable, and a generalised fear of being labelled as 'outsiders' or 'rebels'. This summation is garnered from an empirical evidence: there is a multitude of new acts, few of which tick every box you would like them to. If they have a barnstorming musical template and divine ecosystem of talent, they loses points when it comes to personality or ubiquity. Music works under an umbrella of the Law of Causation in the Law of Tort. There are a lot of great acts and artists who can project an air of confidence, and produce a cracking set of songs. Often that hard work is underpinned by the arrogance, and sometimes plain loconisism of the participants. They often seem unappreciative of any support, promotion or helping hands; purely concerned with recording, gigging and sleeping. For those whom value kindness and support to be tantamount to paramount, come across as the most worthy bands. In a hazy climate of mixed metaphors, profiteering and fickle fandom, there is one thing to be said. If you use music as a way of externalising your base desires, proclivities and negatives; your career will be brief, but will have moments of spark amongst the black skies. If you see music as a way of dramatising and turning your interalisations into something more fascinating, you may see fewer sparks; but you will stick around a lot, lot longer, and build up a more appreciative and awe-struck fan base. The bedrock of my point is, that you need to have a likable personality, as well as good music. If you treat music as a vacation and something that is inalienable and easy, you will be disappointed. I am always more intrigued when the facile element are subjugated and taken to task. Because when a band comes along that are instantly loveable, and have terrific audio samples to boot, the resultant rush of endorphins, brings about a bright expression that is impossible to lose.

This brings us to Dead Sea Navigators. I was made aware of their pure existence by a female friend. I shall leave her anonymous, as she is modest to a tee, and knows that the reason for the introduction was to make people aware of the band's wunderlust; not self-promotion or kudos. I have been in communication with vocalist/pianist Steph Naylor. What impressed me most about him was he was so down-to-earth and modest. On behalf of his band-mates, he admits that the musical template may have detractors, or may be a slow-burning flame in many people's souls. He comes across as warm, friendly, and genuinely thrilled to have support and appreciation for what he is doing. The band consists of Steph, alongside bassist Nik Williams, and drummer Claire Brock. The band have an inter-gender kinship, and a diverse geographical intinerary to their name. Steph hails from Sheffield, whilst the band themselves spent their formative years close to home, where it was said they started life sticking to a rigid and overpopulated guitar sound. They felt that that scene and sound had grown stale; balling the paper up, tossing it in the bin, and starting afresh. Deciding to break from the parable of 'what every other band ever boringly does' they were clear about their agenda: avoid falling into the quagmire of boring lounge bar music, the sort of thing you hear pipes like anesthesia into caffeine quads and wine bars, around the globe. They were determined, instead, to fuse melancholic piano with "distorted bass", which consequently, would be a fitting discography for "the entertainment of late night drifters". Music label The Animal Farm loved what they heard, and committed to record an E.P. with the group; subsequently a spiritual rebirth occurred and the ensuing 'Uncharted' was amassed. The band's obvious, early epiphany follows the story of 'Archimedes and the Golden Crown'. It is stunning how they have modernised and abridged that Greek genius's fable. The glorifying "Eureka!" was not emoted by the protagonists- but instead by music critics. Time Out hinted at worthy comparisons with Nick Cave; Artrocker noted that they sound "bloody huge". Before I refrain and focus on the songs, I would like to bring two more things to your attention. The band wrote "what they wanted to hear", according to them; which, if you look at their Twitter page is "gob dribble"; Facebook (page) goes with "piano-led indie lounge". They balance a sense of humour with a business-like didacticism, cleverly making you laugh with them, and infantilise and chide them for their modesty. Lastly, they have an artistic eye for simple and striking imagery. Their E.P. cover is a gorgeous sunset image, depicting what appears to be an industrial/railway landscape, which juxtaposes, beautifully the band name and E.P. title. They are Navigators of an 'Uncharted' Dead Sea. Whether the nautical christening is a cheeky insinuation that the current music scene is an ocean, rife with listless, floating bodies, unable to sink (but contented to lay artlessly atop a stale water); or whether they are explorers looking for new lands, spices and treasures is open to ambiguity. They inspire thoughtful rumination. One thing is crystalline: they are captaining a formidable Dutch Clipper; surging through the waters, guiding the listeners to a waiting and much needed nirvana.

Okay then, folks. I have selected a couple of enlightening cuts from 'Uncharted', which I feel best express and define the sound and philosophy of Dead Sea Navigators. The opening plaintive piano notes of 'Actors' has a little bit of Radiohead's 'Pyramid Song'. It introverts and syncopate's the Oxford boys' haunting cry, stirring in some mid-career Kate Bush magic, and adding a little of Elton John's 'Rocket Man (I Think It's Going To Be A Long Long Time)' - before the modulation. This all follows after a spectacularly eerie, and almost psychotropic chorus of spirits. Whether it is a music recording played in reverse, or a linear progression, metomorphosised is curious. Just from the first few seconds your mind and soul have balkanised, refereed by a fast-beating heart. It is simply stunning. The swaying, almost Waltz-like piano punch, capitulates to a point mutation of percussion, that leaps from the waters and pirouettes gracefully. I can hear a Radiohead influence as the signature changes in the intro. There is an audible rise and fall of acceleration. The vocal interjection, however, contains little falsetto or femininity. Instead it is a classic baritone delivery, with nods to The National's Matt Berninger. Like him, Steph has a similar velvet glory, yet does not suffer from Berninger's oft-crestfallen depression. There is more light and lyricism to be heard, and when the words: "There's no trickle down/No upside to this/That I've found", it is spoken, backed by an almost Romantic-era piano accompaniment. The drum moves with supaventricular urgency, creating an emotional balance to the baroque/ballroom sway in the foreground. In the same way that Rufus Wainwright has blended golden vocals successfully with artisan, lush musical backing, 'Actors' has a similar ambition and quality. Naylor is able to invoke a little of the spirit of Gerry Rafferty too, possessing as he does, with a voice that is capable of tremulous quiet and televangelist power and passion with ease, never indebted to any influences; instead possessing a unique and soulful set of pipes. Beginning just before the 1:30 mark, is a brief call and response between vocal and piano. The former restrained and fatherly; the latter augmented and purring. The lyrics are consistently engaging and literal; seldom succumbing to axiom or obliqueness: "And if you had the nerve/You'd do your shopping underground" and ensuing couplets have a modern and wisps of dark fantasy and "hospitality overload". With a backing of sighing vocals and a pointed and punctuating piano, the drum holds its nerve and keeps order as the mood and tension grows. Just then, a creeping electric guitar, probing stab of piano and vocal-cum-organ trip, both atmospheric and ghostly, bring the song to a close.

Completing the duo is 'Crellin'. It pupates amidst a romantic and tender piano line, that again has hallmarks of Kate Bush, but also with the classical greats as well. I am not sure about the etymology of the song title. There is a Yorkshire-born actor called David Crellin, who has appeared in Emmerdale and Cornonation Street. Whether it a love letter to the soap bard, or has its origins elsewhere made me smile. I am sure there is a plausible logical to the title, but in my head it is a siren call to a 52-year-old Sheffield-born actor, who resides in Manchester. The romantic foreign indie film gives way to a gangster romp, as the piano is accompanied by a gutsy and bulging guitar and slapping percussion kiss of death. Our hero is telling his story, of how he has not written to Crellin, "in so long". Hey, perhaps it is about him after all! Anyway; the tone of the track is quite reserved and scene-setting musically, letting the vocal and lyrics to keep your focus. The Berninger comparison seems apt, in the sense that the song manages to combine poetic and thought-provoking, and often humorous lyrics, with a cultured and consistent musical aesthete. As you'd expect with Dead Sea Navigators, there is a twist afoot, as there is a romping up of tension and atmosphere. Strangely it seems like an updated version of 'Stan' by Eminem, except with less psychotic undertones, and a transposition of key players and pertinent plot points and twists. Again the lyric's wardrobe and attitude is modern and sharp; there is a tangible and coherent story that runs through the song, and is like a truncated version of a nervy film noir. There are slowing sways of piano, coupled with darker tones, as once again one thinks of 'Amnesiac'-era Radiohead, and Nick Cave as well. Naylor employs a similar strange theatricality that Freddie Mercury did on 'I'm Going Slightly Mad'. The repeated and shortened chorus mantra: "Would you throw us a bone/Now you're out on your own?", is effective and studded. Naylor's voice soars and infuses a reverent and mannered tone to the track. If you picture the scenes that the track pertains, then you may imagine a kidnap scene, or creepy playlet. It is because of the commendable vocal, as well as driving and searing backing, that juxtaposes the palpable strain and adds an extra depth and intrigue to the track. Before the 2:00 mark, the vocal is held, and combined with the piano, drum and intelligent bass reminded me of 'Muse's coming-of-age gems on 'Absolution'. There is a comparable authority and quality, which, when combined with the lyrics, gives the track a meritocratic punch. What follows is a beautiful intermission, which takes the form of sterling bass, powerfully emotive drums, and a transcendent and altered-voltage piano switch. The music dances in the rain, with its sweetheart in its arms, as the moon shines bright. The chorus coda comes back up, as a final few words are proffered. The vocal elongates and twists with a wordlessly, with operatic undertones in its power and conviction. There is a apocalyptic ending of the War of the Roses, as the piano is hammered violently for a brief moment, before there is calm, and we are in safe waters.

I am not a vengeful or spiteful human, but any person who is still credulous in their belief that a lack of huge guitar sounds, means a lack of appeal, I hope now has irrefutable cause to shut their mouths and open their minds. I have been reduced to a mess of intransetive verbs and a messy stupor after hearing the tracks. I am ressembling a special needs dog at the moment, tongue hanging from the corner of my mouth. It is hardly an over-exaggeration to say that Dead Sea Navigators are music's best kept secret, as well as your new favourite band. They have been most modest in their assumption that they will be heard only in clandestine dens. They have a quality and might to their work ethic and results that suggest they can break a huge Berlin Wall of misconception and divided opinion, and ignite the current music scene. I have been staggered by the recent surge in quality acts and the diverse mix of sounds, palettes and voices. To my mind there have been too many guitar bands, and a small few have managed to distinguish themselves from the pack. Most climb and reach for heaven, instead they precipitate and fall to ground, cruelly subjected to the accelerated and fickle gravity of the music scene. Steph and his comrades said that they wanted to break away from the overcrowded and predictable guitar rabble, that has threatening to stagnate for some time. Instead they manage to fuse a classical elitism with a ubiquitous and indiscriminate modernity to their sound. The drums and percussion are authoritative and keep the other two in check. They elevate and punctuate the mood when needed, and when the lyrics, vocal and bass bend, the percussive spine remains strong and unbreakable. The vocal of Naylor is impressive and inspiring throughout, able to employ a range of emotions and shapes; ruminating and pulsating within the space of a few words. I'd like to sum up the review, by mentioning a couple of quotes from The Taming of the Shrew; which I feel lend weight to the group's appeal. The first is: "There's small choice in rotten apples". The noun would refer to a small sector of the current music scene. The closer you traverse to the capital, the fewer quality acts you will find. Around London and certainly within the 'mainstream' or within what is considered 'popular' there is little variation, and plenty of 'rotten apples'. I have never cared much for chart music, and the acts that pull in the biggest bucks. They are often bland, plastic and lacking teeth, guts or balls. If one wants revelation and a fulfilment of the pursuit of glory, you have to look hard, and search in all the right places. The location- if you are wondering where to find such hallowed acts- is the north of England, especially Greater Manchester and Yorkshire. This is where the healthy and ripest crop reside, and I believe that Dead Sea Navigators are the cream at the moment. The last quote concerns the sequestration of all of the finest and most worthy acts. In my exchange with Steph, I have been overwhelmed by his gratitude and appreciation at having his band's work highlighted and given a thorough review. It has inspired me to do- what I hope will be- justice to the group's talents. At the same time, I am sad that it has taken so long to hear of them, and hope that the forthcoming album, will see them elevated from the shadows, and brought firmly into the light, because I was blown away by both songs, and the E.P. as a whole. In respect to the cloistered nature of this fantastic trio, I cannot say it better than: "My tongue will tell the anger of my heart...

... or else my heart concealing it will break".

__________________________________________________________________________________

Official:

http://www.deadseanavigators.com/

Facebook:

http://www.facebook.com/deadseanavigators

Twitter:

https://twitter.com/DeadSeaNavgtrs

BandCamp:

http://deadseanavigators.bandcamp.com/

MySpace:

http://www.myspace.com/deadseanavigatorsuk

Sound Cloud:

http://soundcloud.com/user6085507

Bauer: 'Sky Turns Black'

Bauer:

'Sky Turns Black'

Track Review

9.7/10.0

Near Google-proof Manchester mob, have a curiously analysable name, and an even more mystical track.

Availability: 'Sky Turns Black' is available at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qtaibf8GUWk

___________________________________________________________________________

I'll desist with any prefabricated ramblings on the state of music...

like I perhaps would on any other day. I have slowly made peace with the Devil on my left shoulder, who has an unquenchable desire to have the likes of Bieber, JLS and Ke$sha dunked slowly into a critical volcano. It is with lamentable misty-eyed regret that I am announcing that I will take a brief sabbatical from reviewing bands from Manchester. There's nothing I like more, but feel that their superiority has been established and etched into the record books. Or I may return next week. I'm a bit like a '70s band that way. I am quite pliable and interchangeable when it comes to music. I'm not quite sure if there is something in the water up that way, but I will take a sip of whatever bands are sipping. It is always curious and fascinating when keeping an eye on the migrating epicentre of musical sp0lendor. Like a meteorologist or storm chaser, there is little way to predict where the next storm or hurricane will emanate from; and one is always on ones toes trying to predict the changing tide. There is no fate, destiny, true love, ghosts, God, astrology, true love, love at first sight, someone for everyone, perfection, psychics, or any other associated vague science. Music does not rely upon spiritual declaration or a fungible mindset. There is always factual pride and a simple truth, whether the act or artists is terrible, terrific or ego-laden.

Bauer are a veritable life raft in a vast ocean. There is always trepidation and anxiety when approaching a new act. They are most tricky, when trying to collate their collective. There is a lot of Bauer intrigue. Big companies, obscure little avenues and boring irreverence. I was wondering whether there name derived from an amalgamation of Berliner Mauer (German for 'The Berlin Wall'). Perhaps it was taken from the series '24', and the central figure, Jack Bauer. They are seductively elusive with regards to their nominal origin. It is a tantalising nugget I shall have to coax from them at a later date. The band themselves consist of Greg, Lee, Neil and Michael, and are a newly formed powerhouse of song. Since their creation last year, they have been purging and innovating, both speculatively and physically- managing to transcend any reticence or fallibility within the closed ranks of musical circles; bringing their infectious sonic chemtrail through skies, over horizons, and to the ears, radios and homes far afield. There have been a small handful of tracks present on Sound Cloud and the band's site, for a little while now. It is clear that they have a proletariat work ethic, and have put their heads down, and focused hard on mastering a number of memorable songs that defies you to listen and becoming enamoured. Now they have an album out, called 'Sleeping Giant'. The title is, one suspects as much a political manifestation as it is a name to a face. The tracks that lie within the gentle beast, are Calvinist and pioneering. I shall do my uttermost to do true justice to the album, by examining its lead off single.

The initial vitals are promising, and give me little to become concerned about. In fact, the soothing and colourful synthesising and electronic Jacuzzi has some stature to it. There is a little bit of Queen, strangely. If you imagine the intros to 'Radio Ga Ga' and some of the more epic numbers from the associating album 'The Works'. Happily, Bauer's flammable energy produces a more satisfying and intelligent effort than 'Radio Ga Ga'. There is a strum and drang pulse, as well as a cooling breeze to the tones, before a cursive drum beat prostrates to the sparkling guitar haze that opens the track up, and gets the blood flowing. It puts you at ease, and puts you on the edge of your seat; unsure of what direction the lyrics and ensuing vocals will take. Before we get there, the introduction strides and twirls girlishly, the solid percussion joining and annotating the electronic threads and creating a combination sample that is both 'radio friendly' and independent, all at once. It is a sorcery that has been employed by the likes of The Killers, U2, Kings of Leon as well as contemporaries such as Keane. The drive is neutered to allow the vocal to share spotlight. There is a cross-gender appeal to the vocals of Greg Matthews. There is a masculine sensitivity to the delivery, with hints of Thom Yorke and Matt Bellamy. The sweetness lingers too in its mellifluousness, permeating smiles and sighs in the same breath. There is a soulful croon, which is backed nobly and professional by the rest of the band. They infuse enough energy to put a yellow highlighter through all of the lyrics, yet kneels as daipher, majordomo, falconer and almoner. The cohorts all play their parts and blend science with spirituality, as "the darkness in your eyes" is intoned softly. As the chorus come into force and our front-man proclaims that: "I can make the sky turn black", with impudent irony, there are new colours and shades in the sound and structure of the song. We shift up into 4th gear, the pace quickens, and there is a stadium-ready accessibility to it. I have closed my hearts and tries to glimpse for adjectives within my subconscious. I hear shades of Boy George in the vocal, but being uniquely attuned to the subject of vocal genetics, I am hard-pressed to hint at any other comparisons. That combination duo of historical quality and a fresh and youthful. I was struck by the evocative strum of electrics. Maybe a little bit of classic '80s and '90s Manchester (The Smiths, The Stone Roses etc.), twinned with a singular and circular indie/rock snap, the ensuing British melting pot mothers a beautiful child, with prime D.N.A. With a repetition of the chorus- instigated and apportioned one suspects to elicit an emotional surge and bring the listener 'up- there is a mood shift of tranquil somnambulist. There is a sprinkling of 'Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy'-piano, that trips on tiptoes, and taps its crystal Morse Code into the musical Hippocratic Oath. If you think we are settling into a balletic intermission- think again! Revving its engine is the sound of synthesisers, and a repeated plea of "feels so easy now". The chorus reinstates itself, hovering like a black angel, unfurling his wings over the fair city. Although there is a pervading sense of muted maturity and realisation ("Been wandering/'round your town too long"); the thematic elements consist of changes in romantic feeling; mutated landscapes, and doubts, there is no sense of depression. The music is always invigorating, and often highly-charged, whilst the vocals are impassioned and strong. We touch down in the land of the delta blues, flanked by a balanced buzz of guitar feedback, a little in the same way Radiohead's 'Sulk' did on 'The Bends', only it is more empathic here, a bit more Queens of the Stone Age-cum-Muse.

I'll sum up, without analysing what is already out there and where Bauer fit amongst their peers, in the grand scheme of things. On the evidence of this track, I am super keen to hear the album, and if there are more songs like this, regardless of the weather, this Summer will be bright and very hot. They have a talent for creating tight and stunning songs, never straying too far away from the genuine sounds of Manchester, yet integrating American and London tones, to bolster and feed their hungry monster of a curiosity. The vocals are unique and pleasing; strong, supply, wide-ranging and tender. I was impressed by the guitar and synths' electronics, which never showboat or posed for photos, instead aid the swing of the song, and infuse it with curiosity, drive and emotion. The overall effect is one which will stir everyone who listens to the song, and will implore you to seek out other Bauer nuggets. There will be- I hope- heady anticipation and expectation with regards to the album. Manchester is producing a sterling squad of players, akin and equivocal to their football overlords Manchester United. I do hope thgere is a unity and brotherly loyalty amongst the slew of local bands, instead of any needless rivalry, as there is no need. Together, the associated talent can join forces and dominate the U.K. as well as take their sound across the Atlantic, and show the U.S. what they should be doing. Turns out I did end on a pontificating and historical note...

... Oops!

__________________________________________________________________________________

Facebook:

http://www.facebook.com/#!/bauersleepinggiant?fref=ts

Twitter:

https://twitter.com/bauermusic_

SoundCloud:

http://soundcloud.com/bauermusic-1

Tumblr:

http://bauermusic.tumblr.com/

MySpace:

http://www.myspace.com/bauermusic

Project Dirty: 'RollerCoaster'

'RollerCoaster'

Track Review

8.2/10.0

Today's musical marvels hail from the U.S. Curiously their sound seems to emanate closer to Europe.

Availability: 'RollerCoaster' is available at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YUofC23LHKg

___________________________________________________________________________

Social media seems to be one of very few ways that you hear about...

music and musical talent more than 20 feet from your front door. As I have documented, almost daily, there is a lot of exciting and varied acts proclaiming themselves forth, and ready to be absorbed. A lot of my recent attention has been drawn to music from the north- most especially Manchester, Liverpool and Leeds. Originating from Surrey, I have been acutely aware of the summation and outpouring of youthful talent, spilling from the walls of the A.C.M. A lot of twenty-something solo artists, mainly female, each equip with a divine and powerful set of pipes, and all of them with an individual and personal set of lyrics and songs. Beyond that you get lucky I guess. I have a few well-placed and well-informed chums who can point me to the shores of refreshing musical lakes. There are a few websites- The Guardian, The Girls Are and NME- who have 'new bands' sections, that I can study and chase the selected stars; eager to see if I can review them. There is little forgiveness or bedside manner beyond these sources, for anyone looking for trans-continental talent. Twitter has come to my rescue. I have been in awe of a couple of Australian acts as of late, but very few originating from the U.S. of A.

This is where Project Dirty, fit into the parable. America, in their undefined role of 'Masters of the Universe', are a mass of contradictions. They have an unabashed frankness in their foreign policy and political agendas, an appalling attitude towards guns and violence, and yet have produced the most astonishing creative talents ever. As far as music goes, Bob Dylan, Neil Young, Nirvana and Queens of the Stone Age, alone, prove my point. Obviously the U.K. is a fledgling sparrow in terms of size when compared to the U.S.'s vast and multitudinous geography, but in comparison terms, they have us beat. As of late there has been little whisper of any new talent emanating from the Pacific or Atlantic shores. Emphasis still remains on established acts. I am confounded, as there seems to be a segregated nature to the media, where, if you don't live in America, you don't get to hear of their new music. Let's put a stop to this, shall we? Sorry. Our duo, were formed 11 years ago, when vocal and keys man Rhett Fisher, and his associate Micah Faulkner happened upon their shared talents and musical template. They have a slightly fractious and bi-polar back story. Spending their formative years playing in L.A. to the west, and Miami in the east; they then went on to record an album and were signed to a label that sound capitulated and succumbed to bankruptcy. At a loss as to what to do next, the friends decided to take a hiatus (or were forced into it). They decided to stuff relying on band labels, and ventured ahead by themselves. Creating an E.P. ('E.P. 1'), and imbued with a renewed confidence, they pressed forward and battled for a solid fan-base. They have been tantalising fans and followers with the perhaps predictably-named 'Act 2' E.P. The twosome themselves are an intriguing proposition. The fellas have the looks and raw edge chisel of Hollywood playthings such as Gosling and Franco, yet have a down-to-Earth readability and close kinship that supersedes any narrow expectations. One slip of the finger, too, and a harmless Google search can become a rather humiliating court case. They are a sort of updated Project Manhattan, yet less secretive. Their hard upbringing and unhappy childhood, means that you are rooting for them before you hear any of their songs. It is impressive that when so many new acts throw the towel in, after the merest of critical scoldings, the boys have a hard backbone and a fervent inclination to succeed and impress.

I was, I'll admit, a little concerned when their music was defined as being worthy of the top 40. There seems to be a contradiction in terms between 'credible' and 'top 40'. The two are mutually exclusive. I shuddered at the prospect of a monstrous hybrid of The Script/Ed Sheeran/Maroon 5 and their ilk, and positively projectile vomited blood when I saw the word 'commercial' presented, without irony or facetiousness. I prepared to ink up my quill and write a big fan '0/10' on this review. Being a devotee of rock, heavy metal, gorgeous soul and '60s pop, I'd rather be trapped in an elevator with Danny Dyer, after having suffered a prostate exam from Edward Scissorhands, than witness the audio horror-show of anything that even reassembled 'mainstream'. Luckily, once I had actually investigated the dynamic duo's bank of songs, I was relieved and smiling. I think they may have undervalued and sold themselves short. This is why 'RollerCoaster' is a perfect prefect to have stand in the front of the school hall, and inspire the rosy-cheeked new students as to how to succeed in the modern world. A rictus of guitar punch sparks and ignites the song in the opening seconds. It has a pan-European evocativeness, and spirit. It churns and lunges, before the vocal comes in. Whilst ordinarily I would be adverse and affronted by anything resembling the current sound of R 'n' B and rap, there is an elemental nod to it in the delivery and atmosphere. The lyrics siphon a little bit left-field of an associated artists. They stick closely to the themes of roller-coasters and fairground fun, employing metaphors and sexual imagery to make their point. "Hey girl/I'm shaking/'cause you're taking me on a ride"; is one of the first things we hear, and sets the tone for the track. There are a lot of things to recommend within the song. There is a propulsive and consistently upbeat swagger and positively to the song. This is reflected by the electronic beat and multi-track vocal. The guitar work is quite sterling, injecting a rock spirit to the proceedings as well, which works well with the vocals. The metaphysical imagery is continued, with our protagonist expounding that his companion is sending him into a spin, and causing him all manner of consternation and emotional turmoil.

There are a lot of plus points, as noted. The track has a surging swing to it. The pace and attitude never lets up. In a market of predominantly downbeat or ambivalent-toned tracks, it has an infectious and sunshine smile to it. It has a lot of charm and spirit to it, and as the lyrics sometimes point towards grey skies, that is never reflected in the music or vocal drive. It is also a tight and well realised number that does not overstay its welcome and wraps up its political message in expeditious and impressive fashion. The two-piece have a staggering amount of charisma and warmth to them as well, and will win fans amongst the young and old alike. It is hard to be critical of a song that is relentlessly pulsating and promising.

If I were to suggest any constructive changes, then they would be few. Sometimes the lyrics do stray towards the simplistic. It would be nice to hear a bit more depth and sensitivity. It is understandable that the song has ambitions to be heard on dance-floors, but the guys have enough combined talent to inspire dancing feet as well as get people thinking as well. I would have liked to have heard some depth amidst the excitement. There is a tendency, too, to stray dangerously close to mainstream. Whilst the boys manage to earn a credibility that few of their peers do, there is a sometimes over-produced and too-polished edge to proceedings. It would have been great to have heard more of the guitar sounds, and perhaps less of the electronic derivations. When it comes to reviewing there is always going to be subjectiveness, no matter what. I like what I know, and know what I like, and I like the duo. If they can score a succession of hits from 'E.P. 2' and work towards a multi-faceted palette of sounds and themes, then that will help them make strides between the pop market as well as put their footprints in the underground scene as well.

'Project Dirty' have had a difficult transition from their creation to today. They deserve to be heralded and gain a new following, and cement the one they have. It will be interesting to see where they go from here, and what moves they make next. 'RollerCoaster' is the sound of a duo who...

... have a renewed confidence and ambition.

__________________________________________________________________________________

Official site:

http://projectdirty.com/

Facebook:

http://www.facebook.com/pages/Project-Dirty/232898160082368

Twitter:

https://twitter.com/ProjectDirty

Sound Cloud:

http://soundcloud.com/projectdirty

MySpace:

http://www.myspace.com/projectdirty

Mutineers: 'Infidelity' & 'Shadow Kisses'.

'Infidelity' &'Shadow Kisses'.

Track Reviews:

9.6/10.0 & 9.5/10.0

Manchester's 'soulful pop craftsmen', present an intriguing duo of mood-capturing songs.

Availability: Tracks available athttp://www.youtube.com/user/armstrongthomas?feature=watch

___________________________________________________________________________

Geographical locality and a burgeoning local scene can work for or against...

a band from Manchester in 2013. I have reviewed a fair few of Mancunian wonder kids over the last week, including Turrentine Jones. I was blown away yesterday by the spirit, ambition and pure rock and blues spirit of Turrentine'. The 3-piece project an air of revelry and quality rarely-seen within the current climate. Today I am blown away by Mutineers. The comparisons, however, will be mutational. Although the two camps may be based within mere miles of one another, their styles, paths and futures are very different.

Formed back in 2011, they consist of Nicholas, Michael, Iwan, Charles, and Thomas. From their forenames, alone, you may be expecting a perhaps middle-class men, with an intuitive spirit of classical and jazz music. It is the diverse banners of REM, The Killers and The Smiths that are more likely to come to mind, when listening to their incredible body of work. Through a multifarious mandate of Internet and digital promotion, as well as tireless groundwork via gigging and door to door word-of-mouth, their reputation has been made, cemented and built upon. They are now the architects of a new musical Atlantis. As well as supporting slots in the company of Wintersleep and Pete Doherty, they are growing into something quite immense. Their album 'Friends, Lovers, Rivals' boasts a wide array of sounds, and shifts; with not undue comparisons to the likes of Neil Young and Echo and the Bunnymen being levied in their direction. The fact that they are not more widely-know may cause many an ostentatious interrobang, in minds and on paper. Having listened to the entire album, there is a ubiquity and ageless appeal to their tunes. It is not just the 'sound' that will cause your ears to prick up; they have a cannon of lyrics that is able to storm and conquer a pub load of Vikings. The likes of Alex Turner and sirs Dylan and Cohen, should watch their backs. The pioneering 5-piece have the words to ensure they have their names sculpted into an elite and hallowed history book. They are able to invoke and summon an array of synonyms, emotions and thoughts with a mere few words; so with that said, it is best to get down to business.

The pulsating electronic and percussive jurisprudence that begins 'Infidelity' is litigious and justice-seeking. It protests that you listen and wait for what is to come. The evidence is compelling and indisputable. With echos of the Bunnymen, as well as Depeche Mode, the mood is autumnal and exciting. When the vocal enters, you get the sense that something of an informal fallacy is beckoning. With recollection of self-doubt, feeling blue, and "all the years of self-abuse", there is perhaps a shade of black, juxtaposing the lighter mood in the background. The vocal from our front-man has a light and lyrical edge to his voice. In the manner that Neil Young can counterbalance fragility, with angelic strength is in evidence here, and there are also hints of early-The Smiths' Morrissey, with John Lennon nestling near, as well. The tale of woe and self-examination continue unabated. Anyone thinking that Ian Dury and Kurt Cobain have been exhumed, and were gatecrashing a rather formal dinner party, need to reassess any misgivings and stereotyping. The vocal- as expressed- is light, and unique as well; it alludes to musical heroes, but never becomes too similar. The lyrics are all wittily portrayed and apportioned. Nicholas manages to craft thought-provoking lines and startling paradigms of wit, that make you sit up and take notice. "It's not my infidelity/It's just you never suited me", it is proclaimed, displaying a Turner/Morrissey composite of failed love and laughing it off, tongue firmly in cheek. You feel if those lines were ever to be uttered to a tear-stained girlfriend, she may be too conquered by the cheeky wordplay to kick you in the nuts with stacked stilettos. Maybe, but not a guarantee. It has soul and heart, but a little bit of sharp-edged de-humanisation. Our hero is caught in purgatory, and explains that, with regards to his lack of social skills: "My tired lines/They're over-used". This unfettered abundance of quotable tristesse, could adorn T-shirts, and cause music reviewers sleepless nights, haunted by over-analysiation and theorising. The protagonist is not a one-man army. The band envelope the mood with a clock of sonic innovation and fraternal shoulder patting. I am reminded most frequently of The Smiths in this track. Not in any way as a sobering detraction or to suggest the boys aspire to be them. They have the same abilities and characteristics: a magic box of sharp observations, an endeavouring and spellbinding guitarists, and a supportive crew of audio mould-breakers, who can provoke the most striking of emotions and outpourings from a mere few notes. The vocal bubbles and over-enunciates in Morrissey/Brett Anderson-fashion; it dips and pitches on its knees, and spins, exhausted in the rain. It is a solid, yet dizzying trance of a voice. The song grabs you, and provides an insight into the socialisation of northern love-gone-wrong. If you are lovestruck, single or without inclination, the words will lead you to an euphony, with a much-needed slow-walk. Whether our hero is remorseful of the situation and his state of mind, or at ease with events, is hard to say. The articulatory and astuteness suggest that there will be few regretful nights, and with a sharp tongue and self-assured assignation, suggest there will be few lonely nights in the future. Mutineers may take their name from an old French word meaning 'the act of mutiny', but on the evidence provided forthwith, they are on dry land, and happy to surge and leaves the townsfolk un-harassed. The retro and invigorating electro swirl and professional and stunningly tight group performance, sets this song apart from the swathes of rank and file drones who infest the charts with witless, toothless tales of reapproriation. One Direction, Bruno Mars and Jason Mraz take note! These are the sort of lyrics and music people want to hear, so do us a favour, and back the hell down!

Cracking on with the cocaine-fuelled, limb-flailing energy of Ace Ventura, I give 'Shadow Kisses' a good spin. It has been fabled that Mallin wrote the lion-share of the band's lyrics whilst working in a Manchester book store. There is a contemporary romance, as well as an old-fashioned charm to the story, and one can only wonder whether it was the fortress of literature around him, or passing boredom that inspired the poetic brilliance. As impressive as 'Infidelity' is, 'Shadow Kisses' is no latch-key child. The intro may have a hint of incongruous disarmament with its paramour. The sound is that of '80s electro, and a veritable heart monitor of interchangeable shifts. The electronics rise and fall; pull and push. Before you think we are settling in to a contemporary Enigma Variations, there is a clattering and stuttering drum blast that awakens the senses, and shackles the wrists. It is a confident periapt, that teams with a end stage-Smiths Johnny Marr guitar weave. It sounds like a hidden track from 'Strangeways, Here We Come', sans electronics. The vocal interjection, again has a reliable mix of sweetness and cautious reverence. Our protagonist paints another Art Deco landscape, complete with tales of a former flame being "easily concerned", who was "an architect" of her own destruction. The band are reigning high in their own meritocracy. As well as another sharp set of lyrics, the music itself is equally intriguing and rousing. The guitar contorts and slingshots, shooting furtive glances and raising its blood pressure. The percussion, bass and surrounding environs of sound, grab, tug and hug gleefully, as our hero spins home truths, witticisms and fearless declarations. If you are looking for a tag-line for this motion picture I would suggest: "Death, love and squalor/The sorid details were removed/Straight from the heart/Of a suicide girl". It encapsulates and defines the aesthetic of our front-man's intent. On the subject of films, this track has a fully-formed omnipotence to its utilitarianism. It could score a charming northern drama, or a large-scale Hollywood film noir. There is a structuralism to its ambition, yet the track has a simplicity to it as well, that could see it becoming a firm fan favourite. Pessimism has not entirely been jettisoned from the track. There are reminiscences of tension, omitted details and painful confessions. There is no arid scorched-earth earnestness to the words; the sentiments are well-observed, challenging and intellectual. 'Shadow Kisses' has a heavy leaning on its chorus. But is anchors the narrative as well as propelling it. It is the core theme, and is repeated several times. Perhaps an additional verse would have salivated some somewhat dry mouths. It is another strong and critic-proof track, and leaves you wanting more for sure.

Okay, then, we are at an end. Manchester is becoming the U.K.'s capital for music culture, and is producing some fine and curious specimens. Mutineers may still have a sense of being a well-kept secret. Whether that adds weight to their legend and eventual legacy is to be seen, but it feels that there is still a large gap in an expanding market for the chaps. They can muscle to the top, establish their dominance and show other bands how it should be done. For a more complete and encyclopedic representation of the band, I would suggest you delve into their album, and take comfort and joy from a band who produce thrillers, and no fillers. The combination of epoch-defining and adventurous lyrics is a rare quality in the current climate. Away from the likes of the solo songwriter tribes, and the establish guards such as Arctic Monkeys and the '60s pioneers such as Neil Young and Bob Dylan, there are not been comparable wordsmiths. The music is eclectic and worldly and has a conviction and impassioned drive throughout. Coupled with powerful and encapsulating vocals, that have a uniqueness and freshness to them; creates a group that should be on the tip of your tongues for a long while to come.

If you are a virgin to the sensual delicacies of the Manchester music scene, or a well-travelled supporter of their team colours, put Mutineers on your iPod. Morrissey is practically retired; Dylan, Young and Cohen may not survive more than 10 years, and it begs the question: who will take the diamond-studded crowns from their temples? Look no further. Nowadays there is a divisive split between rock and pop, R 'n' B and soul, and little intersection, Mutineers provide semblance and a sense of mature authority and guiding light. Do yourself a favour...

... and listen up.

__________________________________________________________________________________

YouTube:

http://www.youtube.com/user/armstrongthomas?feature=watch

Twitter:

https://twitter.com/Mutineers__

Facebook:

http://www.facebook.com/mutineersofficial

MySpace:

http://www.myspace.com/mutineersofficial

Tumbrl:

http://mutineersofficial.tumblr.com/

Turrentine Jones: 'Slam The Door', 'Candy Snake' & 'Della May'- Track Reviews

'Slam The Door', 'Candy Snake' &

'Della May'.

Track Reviews:

9.8/10.0, 9.9/10.00 & 9.5/10.00

Our Mancunian Candidates proffer no brainwashing, occult or assassination fantasies. In a cold time, they are bringing a beautiful war to your doorstep.

Availability: All tracks available at: https://itunes.apple.com/gb/artist/turrentine-jones/id496859281

___________________________________________________________________________

Time for my bi-daily diatribe on the state of music, today...

I'll make it brief, mind, less I be condemned to play the role of the old man bemoaning the state of the world, factually narrow-minded in his assumptions that things were better in 'the good old days'. I can see where the largely-octogenarian patriots are coming from. Things were less stressful in the '40s and '50s, to be sure. However, there has been global warming since the dawn of time; major wars and economic catastrophes in abundance since then, too. The increase in population numbers is responsible for the acceleration of modern heartache. On the flip side, because of an increased populous, we have a wealth and variegated music scene; each participant proclaiming sternly and with diverse, and often divisive shades. For some beguiling reason it has been the stream of talent over the last few months that has captured my imagination, more so than at any other time during my tenure as a music lover. It is in the confines and broad streets of Manchester that has born forth the most virulent and pugnacious rebel-rousers. Something is happening in the Greater Manchester area, that is causing much ear-pricking and renewed consciousness amongst those attuned and educated. Today is no exception.

Special mention first goes to Turrentine Jones's website. Social media can be a double-edge Excalibur when campaigning for followers. What the boys have done is to create a professional and engaging website that compels you straight away. It is informative, beautifully designed, and fascinatingly striking and appealing. From their site, I learnt that the trio consisting of guitar-vocal wizard Julian Neville; organist Thomas Scotson, and aptly-named percussion master Rich Watts. I was brought to their attention by a much-loved and wonderful Twitter friend, who expounded the virtues of the band, promising me that they would be something rather special. The band themselves claim to be influences and compared to The Doors, as well as that they "juxtapose the structural and chordal simplicity of '50s and '60s rock". This concise and cerebral deliberation is apropos and I could not have said it better myself. I am here to try to do so, so onwards and upwards, friends. Before we do, it is worth noting that the band were put together with a freewheelin' aesthete; the boys met, fell in love and got down to business with little regard to pre-conceived paths to Rome, or any needless sabre-rattling. They are the antithesis of an overtly cautious and chaste music scene, and are electioneering to win your hearts, minds and soul. They want to transcend the age barrier and get their music heard by an inter-generational audience. Through the inserting of tight, composed schematics, and a refreshing lack of caveats, they are not wearing the emporer's new clothes; they are smart casual, and all the better for it.

The first track to my ears was 'Slam The Door'. Perhaps with an ironic nod to the title, there is an influence of The Doors embedded within the intro. There is a gloriously galloping and jubilant organ passage. It is a little bit of Canned Heat's 'On The Road Again', and a little bit of Morrison Hotel, The Doors. It is invigorating, and the drums slam with reverent alliteration and resonance. It is off to the races and puts the hairs on end before any vocal input. It is easy to see why T.V. shows and advertisers have knocked a path to the band's door, as the song has a sound that is not commercial; it supersedes that, instead it is the most authentic evocation and replication of the glorious bonhomie and experimentation of the '50s and '60s. The intro dances and wander; it has a pioneering and buoyant abandon. When the vocal does arrive, I was aware of a few things. It has- despite the front-man being an Australian- northern tones. I could hear a bit of messieurs Gallagher and Brown to the elongation of the words and the juxtapositions inherent within the delivery. It is soft and cultured, yet has an amber hew. There is a little shade of Iggy Pop as well, but quite a bit of Lou Reed. I know the band are in awe of The Velvet Underground, and I can detect a note of influence in the vocal as well as some of the lyrics, too. "When I close my mouth/Right before you/Slam my door", proceeds and perpetrates vivid scenes of disharmony and romantic misadventure and strife. There is a pleasing, Marc Bolan-esque lick of the lips when the word "baby" is delivered. Not to hark (on about) the herald angel sang, but Neville has the talent and authority to be seen as a worthy reincarnation of Morrison. He has the same lascivious Alpha Male stride, but also is playful, sensual and pure as well. He is his own Venn Diagram, and within the intersection, is this track. There are cautionary tales of "teenage revenge", and the guys are surveying the scenes and putting the world to rights. The drums and organs purge and drive forward, electrifying the mood, as our hero holds the notes, belts with authority and gusto. Around the two-thirds mark, there is a bit of a cold shower; reigning in the chest-pumping rawness, and providing an unexpected mutation. The guitar does a quick jive and jump, as the vocals come back in; this time insurmountably cautious and studied. The percussive drive swings back in and we fade down, left exhilarated and, quite frankly knackered, with a post-coital smile on our tobacco-stained lips.

I spent about minutes prior to hitting 'play' on 'Candy Snake', wondering where they got that title from. Not sure I'd want to eat it or have it crawling up my toilet U-Bend. It has an adolescent cuteness, as well as a sugar-coated venom in its syllables. It sounds like the start of a 2-minute elevator pitch from Quentin Tarrantino. Would we be hearing a synopsis filled with guns, blood, tough chicks; or something more rom-com? It is certainly a song I could have seen on the soundtrack to Kill Bill or Pulp Fiction. It is allergic to glutton, and at the same time evolves and grows with every listen. There is quite, a, funkay (sic.) organ beat in the intro, that suggests scenes of envisages images of smoky streets, pimps with hoes, gangsters with hoes, and all manner of curiosity and homonyms. Before Pan the Satyr shakes his head with confusion, the voice enters. The 'Candy Snake' "tastes like poison", and is a saint and sinner all at once. There is a bit of Peter Frampton wah-wah effects; muted in the background but teasing as it does. Julian is more reserved but also more playful so far. He gleefully over-pronounces certain syllables to add increase impact-fullness; he stands suited and booted, weaving some glorious guitar tones as he walks by. The organ and drums and predictably star-gazing and assured. The organ skates and shimmers, and our hero 'ch-chookers' rather Antipodean-like. Julian is down by the candy store, ringing the bell but told by the- I'd imagine grey-haired proprietor- he has to earn a right for those "candy treats". The way the lyrics insert so many crystalline and wonderful mini-scenes in your brain is wonderful. The music mood is a potent anti-depressant, and above all is kick-ass, swaggering and a peerless slice of je ne sais quoi! The largely-musical mid-section provides a calm after and before the storm, and is an inspired decision. Lesser bands would employ musical diversions at the end of the track- aimlessly wandered until it fades; or deploy it at sporadic intervals. Both methods are okay in their way, but the length and positioning of the passage from the band gives the song a greater depth and intelligence. Instead there is vocal interjection, in the mould of Iggy Pop and Lou Reed, before another terrific musical break brings us back down. I have heard 'Candy Snake' referred to (by Towers Music), as a "sexual blues cake". Keeping with the food analogies, I think that is a good summation. The lyrics are witty and inspired by great literature- shades of Jack Kerouac and William S. Borroughs- with elements of the 'Beat Generation', co-mingling with witty bon mots and min-dramas. The vocal is again inspired and assured, but I feel it is the musical composition that shines. It is a close associate to the sexual blues revolution proponents, but not indebted to it. Instead it updates and modernises the template and through the usage of effective chord structures and stunningly orchestral intermissions, combined, creates a heady rush that will be hard to shake off!

I struggled to find a third song to review. Not for lack of choices: there are many, many great tracks left! 'Della May' is what I plumped for. I am not sure if there is an ancestral link with regards to the name, but it promises lines of romantic longing, and pining for an unobtainable sweetheart. There is a lovely little blues tinge to the guitar sound, at the start. It is the sort of melody that Jack White played with during De Stijl-era The White Stripes. Here the mood of White's mandate is transposed. It is less Detroit-via-Holland, and more the 1960s-via-Manchester. There is some Jeff Buckley 'Live at Sin-e', guitar sound: there is a similar hushed reverence. As the organ pulls up there are scented smoke signals of The Rolling Stones and '60s/'70s blues-funk. The sense of ensuing intrigue is pathological. ("We can close our eyes/And watch the sun turn blue"- see!). In contrast to the previous two track's rather louche and energetic kick, there is a form of reciprocity in 'Della May'. In every little isotope of heartfelt temperating and romanticism from our front-man, or Steely Dan-esuque weaving organ, there is conviction and purity. It is a gorgeous number, that I could see Dylan writing today. It would fit in, as well, during his 'Time Out of Mind'/'Love and Theft' regency. If he could write lines like: "Red butterfly/Tell me:/Do you wanna ride?" without questioning the age-appropriateness of the sentiment, is hard to say; but at the same time, it contains the right amount of soul and spirit to make him pick up pad and pen. Again- as with 'Candy Snake'- we are treated to a much-needed organ donation. Here it whistles and hums with the wind in its hair, Highway 61 in its rear-view mirror, and an Amazonian muse fiddling with her shades on the passenger seat. There is an incidental quality to the Hammond organ; it lynch-pins and moves the story along with aplomb. And just as we are about to get sentimental and drift off, the song comes to and end, and wraps up proceedings with efficiency.

In a media scene where The Guardian can toss off a 5-line review for an entire album, without consideration for the fact that they get paid a butt-load to essentially summarise a band's cannon of work; it is liberating not to be affiliated with them. Whether those chaps have a strict word limit or have better places to be, music like this deserves more than a fleeting glance. It requires investigation, analysis, and fond appreciation. Whether I have done the boys full justice, is up them, but feel that the words displayed here, are as true as possible, in every sense. They are a 3-piece but achieve the might and work ethic of a 5-piece. Modern artists like Beyonce- when she's not rabbiting on about being an icon for female equality- is unaware she is a millionaire, married to a millionaire, who seems to be irony-proof and permanently dumbstruck. She's not bloody Emmeline Pankhurst- she's an above-average artist who is unaware that there is not gender inequality in music, and anything outside of her realm, she has no influence on, and has no business being involved with. I mention because the things Turrentine Jones profess to being: original, fresh, and better than their contemporaries, is not full of rhetoric or pretentiousness. They are genuine, and back up their words with results. They play instruments, they sing great songs, and they are not pantomime dames, thinking they are social innovators. They are a terrific band of tight-knit friends, who have a passion and great ear for terrific vote-winning music, that will sound be embedded in your brain, and will not shift.

If you haven't heard of these guys- do so! They are the purveyors of a new wave of energetic and scintillating blues and '50s and '60s glory, and want you to listen up and support them. Nothing else. I have been blown away by their ambition, sound and quality, and one thing's for sure...

... these chaps are going to be owning the rest of 2013.

__________________________________________________________________________________

Official site:

http://www.turrentinejones.co.uk/

Facebook:

http://www.facebook.com/TurrentineJones?filter=1

Twitter:

https://twitter.com/TurrentineJones

YouTube:

http://www.youtube.com/user/turrentinejonestv

SoundCloud:

http://soundcloud.com/turrentinejones

Martha Bean: 'A Piece Of This World'

Martha Bean:

'A Piece Of This World'

Track Review

9.1/10.0

Golden-voiced chanteuse has a huge voice, huge talent, and an ambitious drive to succeed.

Availability: 'A Piece Of This World' isavailable at http://marthabean.bandcamp.com/

___________________________________________________________________________

The female solo market is one that is readily quantifiable...

and one in which, quantity doesn't automatically equate to quality. For all the self-assured and acclaimed artists such as Adele, Jessie Ware and Laura Marling, it is counterbalanced, and drowned by a sea of mediocre jobsworth attempts at trying to project credibility and something that sets them apart. It is not simply good enough to turn up, sing the songs and that is that. Should you want to remain in the public consciousness for a long while, there needs to be a profitable and original synopsis laid out. There is not the inequality and discrimination within music as there is within business and society as a whole- everyone is free to play. And although it is bands that seems, by and large, to garner the majority of plaudits and close inspection, the life of the solo artist is just as curious and valuable. I am a big fan especially of the female variation of solo talent. Mainly because the subject matter can be more intriguing and variable, as well as the fact that the voice that enunciates the esprit de corps csan be more spellbinding and charged, makes the overall experience more wondrous and scintillating. Kate Bush and Eva Cassidy are two of my all-time favourite 'voices'. Between them, they are able to evoke wistfulness, peace and tranquility, and do what the best singers manage to do: stop you in your tracks.

The road travelled by Martha Bean, is a triumphant one. It has been said (by Leicester Mercury) that she has managed to win over the most rambunctious of audiences with her "fingerpicking wizadry and pitch-perfect falsetto". A Cassidy/Bush sized hole is already starting to be filled in. A counter-proposal to those resigned for the fact, that what they will hear is going to consist of insubstantial personal heartache and inconsequential oddity, will be in for a kick in the teeth. The songs of Miss Bean are introspective, as well as illuminating, her tones comparable to Ella Fitzgerald and Joan as Policewoman. She is gorgeous, sweet-natured and striking; synonyms most commonly reserved for the more hollow variety of female singer. Add to the mix the fact that she has already released quite a bit of music, including her current E.P., 'State Of The Art'.

The latest offering from the electric songstress is 'A Piece Of This World'. The interview to find out whether it will be good enough to captivate wholly, is a mere formality, arriving as it does with processional and plucked guitar strings. They are low and rain-addled, but portray a romanticism, and provide an instant disambiguation to any myths one may have as to the term 'singer-songwriter'. In a way it is a tonal 180 degrees of Nick Drake's track 'Horn', from 'Pink Moon'. It shares genetic material and is as misty-eyed in its mystique. Following a brief pause, the voice peaks from the clouds. I can see where the Joan as Policewoman comparisons emanate from. Bean has a similar husky stillness and sex appeal to her voice. There is also a touch of Bjork (at her most relaxed); with a shading of Feist. The best way to get the full flavour from the song is to close your eyes and picture the song and the images it weaves. Your mind becomes an intoxicated povitika of mixed emotions. I can understand why Radio Cardiff heralded her voice as "hauntingly beautiful". Any erroneous thoughts are evaporated as Martha speaks of heartache and doubt, imploring the audience "to open up/Once in a while/When you're lonely/And feeling blue". It is a thematic premise that is pertinent throughout, and emotional relevant to most people. Martha has said in interviews that the E.P. and songs are quite commercial-sounding (but in a good way), and her greatest time of inspiration, is when she has more of a frown on her face. The mood of the song- far from being morose- is relaxed and seductive. There is a pleasing assuredness to the track, and when the falsetto reaches it augmented high, the comparisons to Eva Cassidy and Ella Fitzgerald are warranted. When she sings "it's real love", her voice holds and floats, all at once, entrancing and pure. Martha, too, has an impressive affinity with acoustic guitar as well. She is nimbly able to evoke maximum emotional resonance from a few notes; deftly weaving a tapestry of low-angled curiosity, which compliments the vocals, and transcends the overall mood. In the same way the likes of Nick Drake and Joni Mitchell were able to illiterate their words and substantiate their mandate; Bean is equivocal in her talents. The inclusion of cello and viola around about the 2:00 mark, aggrandises the song, and adds an extra layer of beauty and evocation. Martha has found love, and a foothold of hope, but hopes that it will "see me through". As with all the most memorable and truest love songs, there is always a sense of heartache- whether it is secret or not. The song is terrifically assured and pioneering. It has echoes of past masters, but is imbued with such a modern and tangible freshness, that it is sure to speak directly to everyone.

I share a similar reticence to Jon Dodd of The Monograph. In relation to the flotilla of female solo talent, there is a lot of conjecture thrown around, proclaiming that 'Miss-so-and-so' is 'the next Adele/JessieWare/Rhianna' (delete as appropriate). 90% of these statements are crass hyperbole and send repulsed shivers down my spine. Few artists, full stop, have as much potential as hyperactive and under-educated media reviewers say they have. Dodd stated (in relation to Bean's E.P.): "is, and will continue to be, in my eyes, a local classic"; adding later that (the E.P.) was "enigmatic and sobering". I agree with those sentiments. 'A Piece Of This World' stands firmly above its multitude of kissing cousins. The voice that whispers from Bean's lips is one of the reasons. It has the sweetness, stillness and plain wonderment that Cassidy does. At times I was thinking about her (Cassidy's) rendition of 'Fields of Gold'. That song is viewed as one of the greatest cover versions of all time, and - coupled with one of the greatest voices of all time- is certainly in my top 5. To compare Bean to Cassidy is not false economy. She has the potential to create a legion of adoring fans, and whilst many classic female songwriters gained a tributary of adulation posthumously, it will take only months for Martha to achieve a wide fandom. The fact that she writes her own material, and is a skilled lyricist, as well as musician, works well in her favour too, and she has a keen ear for the contemporary need, as well as an intelligent appreciation of artists past.

Bean has a wise and ardent appreciation for the supply and demand's topography and intimate diary entries. She knows that simply 'being' will not be enough, regardless of how gorgeous, ambitious or genuine a human she is. She has complied a tight and ecclesiastical number that ruminates and sweeps. The E.P. will be a timely reminder, to the multitude of forthcoming talent, on how it should be done. The E.P. is gaining a few fans in the media, and even more wider afield. Having listened to a couple of Martha's song, I can attest that 'A Piece Of This World' is no epithetical fluke. In time more songs will be created, and albums and tours will be a very real prospect. For now, enjoy Bean whilst she is in the infancy of her career. She deserves a lot more attention and plaudits, and it is free to listen to her tracks, and costs nothing to get in touch and let her know how awesome her voice, music and words are. So do it. In a climate where 'ten a penny' is a term that can be appropriately twinned with 'singer-songwriter' say hello, and congratulations to a talent, who will soon be defined, proudly, by the following saying:

... 'The next Martha Bean'.

__________________________________________________________________________________

Official site:

http://www.marthabean.co.uk/

Twitter:

https://twitter.com/marthabean

Facebook:

http://www.facebook.com/marthabeanmusic

MySpace:

http://www.myspace.com/martha.bean

Sound Cloud:

http://soundcloud.com/mrhbean

iTunes:

https://itunes.apple.com/us/artist/martha-bean/id282447718

The Castellers: 'To The Gallows' & 'Five Days Time'

The Castellers:

'To The Gallows' & 'Five Days Time'

Track Reviews

9.9/10.0 & 9.8/10.0

They have some familiar Mancunian tones, and look poised to be as big as a certain northern band...

Availability: 'To The Gallows' and 'Five Days Time' both available at http://www.youtube.com/user/TheCastellers?feature=watch

___________________________________________________________________________

There is actually another track of theirs on YouTube at the moment...

but I feel obliged to save it aside for another day, lest this review take 20 minutes to read. The fact that they have but a small sprinkling of tracks, yet have managed to sparked and captivated my imagination so much, is a stunning testament to their focus, youthful vigour and combined talent. The Great North is fast becoming a veritable cauldron of Gothic ingredients. There are spells, potions, curious body parts and credulous talisman, all bubbling ominously; combined creating a hallucinogenic and overwhelming smoke. There has been a lot of recent activity from Leeds and Yorkshire; bands, artists and acts have been bearing forth thick and fast, from the likes of Jonnythefirth, to Rose and the Howling North. I have been vastly impressed by the range of sounds, from such a homogeneous geographical area. Further west, there has been a, perhaps less vociferous, but no less impressive outpouring of declaration. Just recently I came across Rubberbear, a great new band that look positively flammable; curating a sound that could well be ardently played 'til kingdom come on all of the most credible and noteworthy radio stations.

We get to My New Favourite Band of 2013. I have kind of being remiss in giving props to a lot of new bands. There is a lot of secrecy and limitations around new music. I have been lucky enough to connect with people who have made me aware of great new talent. I often wonder, if it weren't for them, when at all I'd ever hear about their existence. It is such a shame, but seems to be a contradictory and laudable sign of these times. Social media focuses too solely on personal gratification and self-obsession. Unless you are promoting a charity or whatever, there seems to be a confusing sublimation and rationing of altruism. Music is a huge, burgeoning market, and it is important to promote worthy talent breaking through. I hope that reviews such as this will invoke a sea change and reappropriation amongst the social masses. The 4-piece gang, The Catsellers, are respectively, Paul, Alex, Ryan and Russell. They have the classic aggregation and formation: one singer, one drums, one on bass, and a guitarists. In an era where there seems to be a trend towards a front man picking up a guitar or expanding bands needlessly to include too many instruments, there is already a focus and classic attire to the group. This gives Ryan a chance to concentrate on singing. Some of the most historic groups of all time had a singer who did just that- The Rolling Stones, The Doors, The Smiths, Queen (to a large extent). It is perhaps not a coincidence that they happen to be some of the greatest bands of all time. The band are influenced by a lot of these groups, as well as The Jam, The Coral, Bob Dylan and Jake Bugg. The unintentional elephant in the room is Oasis. After viewing publicity photos of the group, many may well draw direct comparisons without hearing a note of The Castellers. I shall go into more detail in due course. They have an ambition to recreate and recapitulate the sounds of the classic '60s bands, and their mandate is to create a "rapture for the beholders of enlightened musical soul". Poetic and tough words. These contradictory bywords, are intriguingly weaved within their coda. In spite of having a sound of Manchester, they hail from Liverpool, and manage to integrate the two clatches together in their songs as well as infusing a little bit of London in there as well.

To business, then. With a mere 964 views on YouTube, which in itself is enough to make me vomit blood in rage, comes 'To The Gallows'. With a few seconds of silent seduction, the atmosphere is ignited by a wandering and speculative guitar parable. Already there are tones of The Who, The Jam, and yes, a little bit of Oasis. I mention the latter again, but only in the sense that our boys have the potential to overhaul and overtake Oasis in terms of quality and potential. There is a brief steel toe-capped stomp of drums, before a guitar line weaves in merrily, with the spirit of The Beatles, Rolling Stones and REM. There is a real '60s spirit being unleashed. It is evocative and authentic, and captures you straight away. The rollicking glee of percussion co-mingles with symphonic guitars, bubbling with static, magic and psychotropic trippyness. The vocal is incomparable to the trained ear. There is little of the expect Liam Gallagher snarl, or Paul Weller growl. If I were to draw initial comparisons, I would suggest a young, somewhat less sybaritic version of Jim Morrison can be heard. There is a similar lust and bare-chested intent. The lines are fed to you, give you time to digest, before another is delivered. This mannered and unexpected delivery is striking. It gives you time to absorb the words, and enjoy the music, without having to separate the two in your head. The lyrics speak of weariness and boredom: "You know it's all been said", as our hero surveys the scenes of love and relations as well as personal doubt and revocation. There is a wonderful harmony and spirit elevation as the line "I've seen it in her eyes" is repeated and crackles with a nod to 1960s Liverpool. In the guitar break that follows, there is a smattering of The White Stripes as well as The Hives. Maybe a bit of Iggy Pop as well. This audio polymath kicks up your arms and feet and will roll back the years and tension without need for surgery, medication or rebirth. It gives you spirit and confidence in equal, un-abatable measures. The vocal is passionately delivered during the verses, imbued with tension, manful pride as well as evocating scenes of broken lives and emotion. It is told that when our protagnosist goes to the gallows; "she always follows". The salient literature and effusive and youthful vigour of the percussive backing gives the song a combinative youthfulness as well as maturity. There is no autocracy: each member is on a par, and the 4-4-2 formation of delineation works perfectly. Around 2:30 the guitars and bass splutter and pull over for a power nap, as the drums roll and flail beautifully. There is a bit of 'Moby Dick' Led Zeppelin at one point, where the drums roll and bait. Then the conjoined revelry is reinstated, perhaps a bit of The Who's 'Substitute' masquerades under the song's skin. The riff is continued to the end, as a partnership with a pontificating and eager guitar line, forms. The sonic trail starts to dissipate, and with a canned chuckle from our front man, this a killer peacock, is provided an intriguing swansong.

The atmosphere is congregated and resplendent, as an 'Omm Papa' guitar thread weaves its reverence and ecumenical authority over the initial stage. Were one to close their eyes and think what comes to mind when hearing the proceeding few seconds, a couple of things pop to mind. There is an evocative spirit of the '60s for sure, but also a bit of The Stooges and Jake Bugg in equal measures. When the vocal begins I am reminded a little of The Coral, curiously. There seems to be a similar pace to many of the tracks in Magic and Medicine. There is some of James Skelly's mystery and the likes of Jake Bugg and Miles Kane have already adopted this style and pattern. It is much under-used and under-appreciated, and at the same time as having a genuine Northern heart, it also possesses a ubiquitous soul. The words are treated tenderly, as it begins with a syncopated wink during "Ask me a question", before transmogrifying to a punctuated tone during "I'll give you an answer". One sense there are ellipses on the lyrics sheet within "In five days time". During the formative years of this song, there is a bit of 'Oliver' to the tone. One suspects that this track could be a show tune. It has a similar understated theatricality and dramatics to it. The music pirouettes and kneels, back up and back down. The vocal continues in its quest, with its waltz time signature. I can imagine the track appearing on 'Magical Mystery Tour' or 'The White Album'. It has that flavour and incandescence to it. Prior to the one-third mark, the pace changes, as there are little The Coral guitar stabs, and the vocal swoons and elongates, as there is a palpable sense of impending change. It is only brief- a sort of deep breath on land, before we go back under water. The psychedelic transgression begins as it started tonally. The lyrics display wit, and the modern Canterbury Tales evoke priests and "cauldrons of peace", before noting how, in this town: "The youngsters/Have not a place to go". Sure there is Bugg, Turner, Lennon, Gallagher and Kane, but that the north. That is what people sound like. It as great as the sum of its parts, and does not try to mimic; the band employ their influences perfectly without succumbing to any sort of copycat ideals. It is a modern song for a modern age, and one that will break boundaries and barriers for any undecided voters. In the background there is an arabesque twirl to the percussion and bass. In fact the two enter a non-compete clause and support each other: they punctuate, rise and fall, twirling in a waltz in a smoky, beer-stained street. The errant guitar manifesto has had a lot to drink, and is shouting in doorways and shouts indecipherable non-sequiturs to passers by, before The Filth arrive, and restore jurisdiction. The chorus repeats and we are done here.

A wide girth of a review, you'll admit. I have been transfixed and spellbound by the tracks. The band show a staggering confidence. They sound like they have been doing the rounds for 10 years or so, but these adolescent savants are nary but saplings. I have been unable to get a word in edge ways into my own summations. I adore the bands that The Castellers are influences by- The Beatles, Oasis, The Jam etc., and perhaps there is a sense of subjective bias in my proffering. There is a universal and unquenchable lust and respect for these groups. On the note of 'influences'. The band do not ape or wear the colours as fancy dress. They are their own 'real thing'. I have quite an intuitive ear and write and sing myself, so could spot little snatches of other songs. I did not feel I was listening to anything second-rate and there is no sense of the boys hopping on the bandwagon. The likes of Jake Bugg and Miles Kane are huge and cutting edge vogue right not. Singer Ryan Healy has a bit of Alex Turner to his pronunciation and delivery but it does not stray too close for comfort. The boys have a rare understanding of the past, and are making the near-forgotten-at-times sounds retro and reinvigorated. They have the quality to live up any hyperbole or hype. I am predicting big things for the lads as 2013 progresses. In a current scene where having an acquired taste of a sound may ruin a career, the group have just that. In the sense that they supersede and rises above their peers. There is no auto-tune or vague bland pop nonsense. There is, instead, a leather-clad rock flair, and spirit, and I cannot wait for a future release.

Give these northern guys your full support. In an era of ill-advised political coalitions, admist a rather 'shaky' and variable music scene, it is refreshing and enlightening to hear such a stable and unwavering dose of quality and consistency. They make promise and keep every one; they swagger but are not anti social. Above everything else...

... they are bloody wonderful.

__________________________________________________________________________________

Official site:

http://www.lisamarini.com/#home

Facebook:

http://www.facebook.com/?ref=logo#!/TheCastellersMusic

Twitter:

https://twitter.com/thecastellers

Rubberbear: 'World of Modernity' - Track Review

World of Moderninity-  Track Review

9.6/10.0

Anglo-French musical sovereigns set aside the woes of modern life, and create music with a beautiful entente.

Availability: 'World of Modernity' is available on the E.P. 'Let's Move Somewhere Else'- both available at: https://itunes.apple.com/gb/album/lets-move-somewhere-else-single/id605417575

___________________________________________________________________________

There is a weight of expectation to the duo's rich pedigree...

but there is no burden of proof on the shoulder's of this virgin horizon. I shall mention that more anon. A lot of new music tends to consists of brand new ventures. Band and acts assembled, are for the most part, fresh-eyed and filled with restless intent. Whether graduating from the underground of London; having battled through the bar scene of the north east, or emerging bleary-eyed from the cavernous halls of local music academies, there are several options. Ordinarily a few cursory songs are recorded, redefined, polished and published on social media. Some give up the ghost when projected subscription supersedes net profit. The more industrious manage to gain a toe hold in the first divert of the giant mountain that is the musical hierarchy. Some are even lucky enough to be plucked from near obscurity, given a record deal, and maintain a grasp on public attention for years to come. Oh, and there are the, for want of a succincter neologism 'bearth of enations'. These are the bottom-feeding talent show 'hopefuls'. I would gleefully beat a tramp to death with a Victoria's Secret catalogue to see the entire species extinguished forthwith. Their subcutaneous, disjointed form of phenakistoscope charm, is the slow ruination of new music. I digress. There is a small demographic that exists within a minute intersection of the tesseract. These are the more 'mature' collaborations. Some are equated due to the disablement of a existing band; some spread themselves between several projects, whilst other unions occur because of mutual interest and respect.

In the intriguing case of Rubberbear, the genesis of this musical Alcyoneus is a curious tale. They formed late last year, and are Tom Chapman of New Order, and former member of The Fall, Steve Trafford. They are based in Manchester- not exactly a slacker, when it comes to churning out musical genius. They manage to fuse multi-layered psychedelia, with baroque orchestrations to create a lush and symphonic wonder. Already the duo have laid down several tracks, and gained a steady and dedicated band of followers via Facebook, Twitter and beyond. I am a fan of both of the detective duo's portfolios of work. They arrive from two different landscapes and skylines, with regards to their sonic influences and back catalogues. I was fascinated to see whether the two men would blend harmoniously, or would simply electioneer separately, on different sides of the political spectrum. I was soothed and relaxed when I began listening to the E.P. 'Let's Move Somewhere Else' as the music is imbued with the respectively glories of their former employers, whilst retaining a fresh and unipolar popularity. The 3 track, 12 minute long E.P. is fascinating and assured, and despite possible concerned about its brevity, it manages to pack a huge physical and emotional punch into such a short amount of time.

It is with keen and trembling ears that I hovered over the associated 'play' button of E.P. swansong 'World of Modernity'. It would be counter factual to say that you should investigate just one track, but I felt that by focusing my obtuse intentions of one song would do great favours to the E.P. as a whole. The opening salvo of the introduction's build up, drifts and carries you mind to a peer. Possibly Blackpool, possibly Morecombe; the geography is not essential. What you do feel is a great sense of juvenile reminiscence; fond memories, slot machines, ice cream vans, and low-swooping seagulls baying for fish and chips. It holds and glides for a couple of seconds. It is uncertain what direction the track will take. Before you can ballot accordingly, there is an electronic percussive overdrive, that helms the fort and sets fire to the pitchforks of the marauding villagers. There is no misstep in the cross-pollination; no sentiment is lost in translation. The conjoined mythical beast that captivates and conquers, has a happily familiar sure-footidness to it. There are perhaps swathes of Depeche Mode; maybe a little bit of Kraftwerk's Teutonic buccaneering. Although saying that, Kraftwerk are as professional and reliable as they come when it comes to their type of music; and similarly Rubberbear show no nerves or signs of deviation. The electronic thud and witches' brew of skiffle, gravitational pull and meteorology is compounded, as the vocal enters the fray. The lyrics are homespun and effectively simple at first: "I've been looking for a place/In a world of moderninity". The final word being given polysyllabic caress; poured forth like a libation. What the word 'moderninity' means, is quite another matter. Whether it is an archaic term that has fallen from literary consciousness, or another neologism, is another matter. One suspects that it has some meaning, and I will be a whirlwind of O.C.D. neurosis, trying to track down the word's etymology. Our hero may feel a little weathered by age, or the age we live in. He seems to be a human scale, balancing Finagle's Law in one hand, and Murphy's Law in the other, and wonders which way he will fall. There is not an overwrought pessimism, but a knowing sense that the pace is quicker and more frantic than the '80s and '90s, and it is tougher to stay ahead of the rat race. It is said that there is a world outside of his door "that calls (my) name". The biopic's story arc is sound-tracked by a scratchy, pulsing and bullet-ridden mesh of electronics and orchestration. It is though the component adjectives are metaphors for functionality of the human body. There is blood flow, heart beat, oxygen expulsion, and a perpetual breathe that expands and contracts to sublimate the vocals. The Dirac's coup arrives at the 1:10 mark. The vocal and sonics solemnisation and create a tenable electricity. Just then the pace slows, as a more contemplative and deracinated subjection comes to the fore. The words "Isn't it strange" are repeated, sewn together and stretched, sounding a little like The Byrds mixed with Think Tank-era Blur. The guitar sounds are more revered, satisfied to whisper plaintively. The vocal metamorphoses to a more tender and longing refrain, before pitching and delivering a switcheroo, with the introduction, once more, of the chorus. The effective colour scheme is present for the remainder of the track, and brings us to a pontificated and superb end.

Given the strength of the rest of the E.P. it would be folly to suggest that Rubberbear will be looking for a standout or linchpin from the release. 'Steamroller' has initial touches of Noah and the Whale and Gorrilaz, but goes all punk and new wave, and is a multi-directional beast, whilst the latchkey child 'Let's Move Somewhere Else' begins life similarly to a Wild Beasts song, but then vocal touches of The Coral and is a shimmering and intriguing number. The tracks have commonground and shared tactics, but contain coded messages, secrets, universal sentimentality and pure emotional resonance within. It is a successful and self-assured music venture that we have here. Both of the guys have a clear mutual respect and great knowledge of each other's background and strengths and compliment these beautifully throughout 'World of Moderninity'. A new album is afoot this year, and judging from the strength of the E.P.'s tracks there will be no fall from grace or any measure of under-appreciation. The fan-base will swell and the sounds and scope pertained within will be revered and studied. I am not overly-familiar with either New Order or The Fall. I have heard more of the former, but probably relate more to the latter's business acumen. Whether you want to label them a 'super group' or a 'French-Anglo partnership' is up to you. Give equal judicial review to each song and draw your own conclusions. I think you'll agree that if you are an ardent fan of the respective genres, or fit somewhere subducted of each, the music has a non-elitist and populist agenda. It wants you to be inspired and sing along, remember the words, and relate to the sentiments and universality of the message. Tom and Steve are fresh blood brothers, and soon will find that they have a very busy schedule. Take a listen to the track, and consequently the E.P., and...

... let the loveable Rubberbear into your home.

__________________________________________________________________________________

Facebook:

http://www.facebook.com/#!/pages/Rubberbear/198038603674851?fref=ts

Reverb Nation:

http://www.reverbnation.com/rubberbear

Twitter:

https://twitter.com/Rubberbearband

Sound Cloud:

http://soundcloud.com/rubberbearband

E-MUTE: 'Clock Moves Forward' - Track Review

'Clock Moves Forward'-  Track Review

9.3/10.

The band name intrigues, and the songs themselves simply out-stand.

Availability: 'Clock Moves Forward' is available on the E.P. 'Too Proud to Say Loud'- both available at: http://www.emute-music.com/release/too-proud-to-say-loud

___________________________________________________________________________

Sounding somewhere between Franz Ferdinand, Muse, Foo Fighters, and Depeche Mode, is how the E.P. has been described...

Which is quite an uncommon mix of D.N.A. It promises wealthy and prosperous progeny, capable of possessing the brains, brawn and sensitivity to supersede the benchmark of Alpha Male, and show the musical world how it done, once and for all. There is much promise afoot, to be sure. I have been faced with a full squad of variably-talented musical players, each one promising to play their socks off, but only a select few proving to be worth their weight in gold. There has been some fascinating flicks, volleys, mazzy runs and stunning finishes, but I have been searching for that 'special one'. Perhaps fiscally-conditioned, or reflective of the season and mood, I have been immersed more deeply in classic '70s rock and the likes of The Rolling Stone, Led Zeppelin and Queen for a little while. Between them they bristle with tension and sexual intrigue; they ignite, punch and rouse the spirit, invoking a defiant grin. In modern circles there are few direct comparables. There are one or two bands on the nucleus of the mainstream, who has flecks of the greats, with a little bit of 'that certain something' thrown in for fair measure. However, there has been a scarcity of bands and acts emanating forth, that are truly inspiring, and implore you to pick up pen, paper and guitar and get writing.

A new treat to my ears, E-MUTE seem likely to steal a little breath and cause exciting twitching amongst your devotees of a classic era, and those hunting for a fresh and vibrant new sound. The band is an inter-gender mix of London friends. The members. have between them, previously worked with the likes of Moby and The Drifters, and note that their sound is a mixture of "great melodies, dark edgy rock, electronica, and philosophical lyrics". Seems like an intriguing and impressive mission statement, and one that they are able to live up to. Their E.P. arrived last year, and has been gaining steady following, and much plaudit from music lovers and critics. There has been a fervent stretching of combined arms from the general music populous, in awe of the group's 5-song wonder piece. The entire E.P. is a little shy of 16 minutes and is impressively tight, focused and a beautiful homunculus. I was bowled over and blown away by the consistency of their sound, and the impressive pitches, turns, surprises and knock-out punches. 'Clock Moves Forward' is the first song on the E.P. and their latest release. With an apropos title and infectious drive, I was captivating and buckled myself down prepared to experience the magic of E-MUTE.

There is a little chaos and unrest within the intro. The percussion enters expeditiously, presenting an electrifying and pragmatic mood to proceedings. The guitars join the sway, and between the two set the floor alight with merry abandon; clicking heels, kicking up dust and forgetting how many drinks they've had. If anything there is a slight air of an Irish Jig to the rhythm and pattern. It slower and more syncopated but has the same sort of canter to it. There is also a appropriate sense of time keeping to the intro too. The seconds count down quickly, and inject a palpable excitement and urgency to the track. There is a little bit of The Smiths, a smidge of early Muse, as well as a slight nod to Queen of the Stone Age's 'Run Pig Run'. Before a single word has been sung, there is an instant and instantly likable sense of fun, misadventure and metaphysical storytelling. As the gay swing and dance abates, the vocal enters the room. It is smooth and luxurious; a most pleasing and assured tone. Maybe a bit of Depeche Mode at first, but perhaps enamoured with a lighter and more uplifting hue. There is a steady and endeavouring bass-line, backing up our front man and waiting to wade into action. The simmering electricity that has been bubbling and spitting above the parapet subsides for now, and the lyrics do the talking. There are ruminations of mystery and intrigue?: "Who can tell/When the game begins?", the vocal becomes almost acidotic in its lip-licking super-villainy. Our hero almost winks as he sings, proffering a smooth and interchanging bow wave of emotion and wonderment. The chorus shares some common ground with the chorus in terms of time signatures and temperament. There is a slight elevation as the words: "The clock moves forward/As life goes back" are brought forth, the band producing a punchy tick-tock in the background, before choppy and energetic guitars leap forth. For the repetition of the verse, the percussion is king, presenting a sturdy and self-fulfilling prophecy of mood bait and switch, that supports and counterbalances our protagonist where appropriate. As the chorus comes back full circle, there is a slight scene change, as a repeated mantra of "don't worry" is offered up. The words here are elongated and weighted, allowing extra resonance. The band are up to the challenge and are not immutable at first, staying consistent and studied. Then, as you are expecting a repetition of verse, or a guitar break, the chorus is reintroduced unexpectedly, proving quite efficient in its ambitions: to propel the mood and momentum, but at the same time catch you off guard and fire up the senses. It does just that, as you are expecting a slight sedation, but instead are gifted with the chorus, and as the vocals, that beautiful and curious intro is repeated to the end.

Having been a new follower of the band up until last week, I had no preconceived notions or expectations. I was fascinated by their colours, fashion and style, and was keen to listen with open ears. Where they have pointed at possible influences, you can hear bits here and there. The vocal has a little Depeche, but as noted, it is a more mercurial, lighter and honeyed when required. The band as a whole have the inventiveness and intelligence of The Smiths, and have a similar sense of sonic exploration. The lyrics are clever and memorable, and very much on message. There are perhaps fewer individual words than you'd expect. It is the way E-MUTE employ and disseminate the lyrics that provides the focus. The chorus is repeated to great effect and provides a great twist towards the end of the song. On that note, the bookend guitar piece provides great consistency and foresight and means that the tracks does not veer or continue to run for longer than it needs to. The entire song is 2:48, and it feels tight, leaving you wanting more after it has ended.

The modern music scene is obviously very busy. There are different coloured corners and avenues, and depending upon which direction you walk, will determine what you hear. There are a few indie/rock bands who have an intelligent design, and a professional and exciting sound, but there are not as many as there should be. To that end, there are also not many who reach the heights that are displayed on 'Clock Moves Forward' and indeed the sister E.P. 'Too Proud to Say Loud'. The band have a lot of ideas and different stories to tell, and I am looking forward to another E.P. or album, already. I would suggest you listen to their E.P. and find out what all of the fuss is about. They are young, brave, stylish and recession-proof. If you like your music with doses of fascination and wit, as well as pleasing shades of the masters of the genre, then check out E-MUTE, as they will be on the rise throughout 2013. As the sun is shining, and Spring may well not be a distant memory after all, what better time than to check out our London lot...

... and warm your heart and mind.

__________________________________________________________________________________

Official site:

http://www.emute-music.com/

Facebook:

http://www.facebook.com/electricmute?v=wall

Twitter:

https://twitter.com/emutemusic

MySpace:

http://www.myspace.com/electricmute

YouTube:

http://www.youtube.com/user/emutemusic

Reverb Nation:

http://www.reverbnation.com/emutemusic

Post War Glamour Girls: 'Jazz Funerals'- Track Review

'Jazz Funerals'-  Track Review

9.8/10.

Availability: 'Jazz Funerals' is available now at: http://soundcloud.com/i-like-press/01-jazz-funerals

___________________________________________________________________________

There is confident clout and surreptitious beauty to be heard...

from a band that have one hell of an image and aesthete. The band have a keen eye for image, colour and aesthetic. Looking through their annals, and searching their website there is boldness and striking tones. They have released a fair bit already, each song imbued with a gloriously-intriguing title. Suburban Barbarian and Spitting Pearls, are just two examples. They have an innate talent for memorable cover art as well. They choose simple and effective images. Some counterpoint the title; some lend mystery, whilst others confound expectation. The photos used, one suspects began life as a black and white image, but are transformed and given a makeover. They are in colour, but only one mind. This adds an additional layer of mystique and fascination, and the entire effect is immersive and wholly supersede the generic low-grade commercial fashions of most bands. The majority lend little credence or forethought to designs and imagery, either in their work, or their attire. Many provide little substance with their choice of track titles or band/act name, leaving you quite perturbed. It is, one would imagine, a crucial introspection for any new act. A good title or band name can cause imperious looks, furtive glances and much beard-stroking, before a single word, semitone or sonic alliteration have been enunciated.

I searched Google after a millisecond of apoplectic shock. As a songwriter myself I have always prided myself on being able not only to write quite diverse and thoughtful lyrics, but also cogitate and magic-up some quite unique song titles. In fact the band moniker I decided upon has quite a captivating and unexpected back story. At least many of my peers and fellow brothers-in-arms didn't have that sort of arsenal in their war chest. With a dramatic, almost theatrical tone to their name, Post War Glamour Girls, are sure as hell going to grab you with their name alone. You have your Post War Kids, but picture what the Kid's lascivious eclat fantasists put into their, and everyone else's mind. It is a clever juxtaposition; one wonders what a pre-war glamour girl would look like; probably far less sleazy sybaritic cheapness; more a classy and chaste paragon. And what war? Before you investigate further, there are roadblocks, nature trails and provocative detours of curiosity. In fact the cover art to 'Jazz Funerals' is a bold image. There an image of a man, sort of a nocturnal clown. The sort of thing you imagine stalking Batman. Maybe a jazz clown, whatever that would be. It is on the way to the Jazz Funerals. Between that cover image, and the song's title, you are transported to a moonlit London night, moon howling tempestuously. Meanwhile, down in the near-deserted streets, a Coke can is kicked by a shiny red boot. In its midst is the leader of a motley crew of face painted, suit clad mourners, each with a cigarette drooping from their mouths like a dying autumn leave. They march in truncated synchronisation, stomping and screaming indecipherable non-sequiturs. Before them is a quiet, God-forsaken church with a weather-beaten green door. As the assorted congregation proceed past a neatly lined parade of moss-covered and forgotten about gravestones, the names are illuminated by a lone street light. Emanating from within is an oddly hushed yellow light, and the distant sound of conversation and revered hush. The alpha clown stubs his cigarette with fervency, and throws the doors open, before leading his comrades to witness the Jazz Funerals...

There is a distance tapping- as though trying to hammer through lead. Instantaneously there is a flourishing arpeggio of guitar, that opens like a peacock's plumage. There is a light and atmospheric build-up of electronics and mood, reminiscent of 'Two Dancers'-era Wild Beasts. It is soothing and endeavouring, all at once. There are kisses of guitar, admist a riotous rainbow-storm of sonic foreplay. With a slight percussive gear shift, a note of caution is introduced, playing off of the sound-scape like a Newton's Cradle. The vocal eulogy in our parable of funereal adventure is low and sonorous. There are flecks of Nick Cave but I hear Matt Berninger of The National, mostly clearly. It is by no means second-rate to his, it just shares some similar bari-tones; there is an equivocal aching conviction. There are tales of regret, Datsuns, and "three years of my life", in the author's words being stitched and "cut up". There is a growl and a bellow ushered forth, as if Howlin' Wolf has just been stung by a bee. The effect is startling and unexpected. Given the comparatively whimsical and unprovoked musical accompaniment, it is quite unsettling to hear such a monster of a blues vocal. Although the effect is quite wonderful. There is a sense of danger, anger and disorder, in the midst of a whirlpool of chameleon-like and humorous lyrical mosaics. There are strange and mercurial snatches of: "mother's meeting/By the football pitch", as our hero recollects that an unnamed woman gave her love to him on Christmas Eve. The less-than-revered "Succubus" subsequently turned to stone; but with a sly wink it is said that it "happens to the best of us". Thus far there have been a fever dream of surreal scenes and bizarre heartache. The mood and atmosphere has had an unassailable locomotive effect, with the vocal being dominantly empire-assessing and authoritative, as well as a little frightening. After the 1:20 point, there is a slight remission of intensity, where our protagonist is accompanied by celestial vocals, as he implores: "Hold me/I'm weak", decrying the fact that no one is listening to him, as he tries to make his way and move on. The mood is more composed, as electric guitar enters, moving and probing rhythmically, bolstered nobly by percussion. If you thought calm and sensibility were in progress, our leading man is back, with an air of Captain Beefheart's unfettered bark, as his disposition and fortune is subject to tangental velocity: "Stand on my ashes/By the coffee machine". It seems that our hero's unslakable thirst is subject to undeserved disapprobation, presenting as he does, a veritable buffet of multi-coloured emotions and kicks in the teeth. It fades down, and the spirit and breathe that has been drained from the mouths, hands and souls of Post War Glamour Girls, is oddly contagious. It is exhilarating, and at the very least, a big ol' is left on your teeth.

Being subject to a lot of different sounds, bands, acts and influences, it is always surprising to hear what I will hear, of a day. A lot of the music treads a similar path, that is to say it airs on the side of conservatism and mainstream. Often that produces spectacular stuff, and most of what I encounter is professional, assured and brimming with gold. Here there is a vaguely unhinged sound, in the most primitively exciting way. There is little concern for restraint at times, which gives the song vivid brushstrokes and a great fascination. It is a track dressed in black, that at times will beat you black and blue. There are a huge recommendations and commendations that deserve to be presented. The music throughout is gripping and beautiful. There is quite a bit of Wild Beasts, as well as The Smiths as well. On that note, the lyrics posses Morrissey's wit and ability to turn a phrase. The lyrics as a whole are memorable, witty, unexpected and delightful. You are left with some very bizarre and wonderful images, that may not shift from your head for a little while yet. The vocals are a curious blend of Nick Cave, Howlin' Wolf and Captain Beefheart. There is a bit of Scremin' Jay Hawkins' guttural roar as well. During the chorus there are similarities with Jim Morrison, too. It is a fascinating array, but none of these artists are aped; simply alluded to. It is a powerful and entrancing vocal performance, and I wonder how our front-man had any throat left afterwards!

The band have a busy touring schedule, including dates in Europe. This single release will excite and enthrall current fans and hopefully bring in a lot of new ones as well. If you are not a huge lover of the influences and styles of music explained here, then do not fear. The song is not meant to tribulate or alienate. It has a very modern sound, and succeeds in balancing humour and intelligently. Keep abreast of this fascinating act, and wait with baited breathe for their future ambitions. Jazz Funerals, has been thoughtfully and tastefully assembled, with love and consideration. You owe it to yourself to...

... pay your respects

__________________________________________________________________________________

Official:

http://www.postwarglamourgirls.com/

Facebook:

http://www.facebook.com/postwarglamourgirls

Twitter:

https://twitter.com/P_W_G_G

iTunes:

https://itunes.apple.com/us/artist/post-war-glamour-girls/id468770386?ign-mpt=uo%3D4

Songkick:

http://www.songkick.com/artists/3608076-post-war-glamour-girls

Jingo: '1Q84' - Track Review

Jingo:

'1Q84'

9.5/10.

An intriguing heritage from a fledgling band, provide fascination and sharp insights from the U.S-Anglo raconteurs.

Availability: '1Q84' is available at http://soundcloud.com/jingomusic/1q84

___________________________________________________________________________

I admire the bravery of this terrific new band...

for a number of different reasons. For one, their name is almost Google-proof. Happening upon any previous reviews or press releases is a haphazard and beguiling venture. There are other acts called Jingo, but they have little commonality with our guys. One seems to be a Kenyan outfit, whom have produced some rather obscure and untenable sounds via Last FM. Another appear to be Hispanic in origins; once again appearing not to be too concerned with cross-border popularity or demographic-conquering intentions. Fortunately what I have heard from our transatlantic brethren, is much more awe-inspiring and tangible. I was intrigued by the naming of the band, as well as the track. Not to become too entrenched by etymology, but the band name is a shrewd choice. Jingoism is the act of extraordinary patriotism, in a sense an extended form of nationalism, which prioritises the interests of nativeness, above that of anything else. It makes for a fascinating and sly syllable deconstruction. The music born forth by our trio is a staunch and solid foreign policy. The song title- 1Q84- is Japanese in origins. It was the title given to a Haruki Murakami novel a few years ago. The title of the novel was a play on words. As you can guess it is a parody in a sense of George Orwell's '1984'- the letter Q means '9' in Japanese. It was a clever and unique homophone, and one which the band have cleverly readopted. Already, without experiencing a single note or plaintive whisper, there is a variegated and novelistic foreword.

As for the group themselves, they are a dynamic and curious three-piece affair. They are, consequently, Joseph Reeves, Jack Buckett, and his U.S. spouse Katie. The three have been making music with other bands for a fair few years, and have recently decided to embark upon a shared venture. For the time being, they have a modest Facebook following (168 'likes' as of the time of this review), and have a loyal and devout group of co-patriots. It is a unique genetic composite, and one that has not been seen too often on the music scene. We had a similar nationality cross-breeding with Fleetwood Mac, The Magic Numbers, and a few other acts, but they are few and far between. With a diluvian of excellence already produced by the three, they have nothing to prove in terms of quality. Jingo is their baby, and the espoused and fraternal nuclear family are determined that it will grow into a rather impressive adult. The first steps have been filmed, celebrated, replayed infinitely and been collated for prosperity in scrapbook and annuals. With broad smiles, and injections of confidence, the first words have been captured, and the resultant '1Q84' is cultured and beautiful.

There is a little oriental flavour and spice to be heard within the introduction. Armoured with chopstick percussion and guitar work disinclined to rest its feet, it is a rousing and tight start and multifaceted. As well as a nod to the Far East, there is a sense of electronic acts like Tricky or Massive Attack in the spirit and voyeurism of the start. There is no clue or inclination as to where the track will go or what the vocals have in store. Perhaps not imbued with a laudatory smile the lyrics have a little pessimism in their early stages. Our American siren is exclaiming how the world is not a fair place, explaining: "It won't be make-believe/If you believe in me". As you settle into your seat, ready to delve deeper into their subconscious, a marauding and rampant drumbeat strikes up, and strikes fear into the heart. The beat staggers and struts, perhaps arrhythmical, to the foreground; it is a rush of blood to a monochrome canvas. The vocal has a pleasing restraint and uniqueness to it. There are perhaps little hints of early-career Beth Gibbons, but aside from that, Katie's voice is its own woman. For the initial eight of the track, the lyrical theme remains unabated, pertaining to the subjects of the realities of life and the redemptive truths of love. The percussion and guitar remain impressively propulsive, remaining strong and unabashed throughout. There is a sonic and dramatic shift soon after. The guitar becomes less karate chop, and more scratchy. It sounds at first like a more melodic, restrained cousin to Nirvana's 'Smells Like Teen Spirit'. It is an impressive sea-change and the modulation from syncopated and Asiatic, to a London-via-Washington indie-grunge mutation is impressive. The vocal is lighter and more wistful, and the lyrics still have a sensitive side: "but you'll always have my heart". The drums again wallop like a adrenalin-filled heart, pulsating when needed to elevate and punctuate the mood. The indie twang and strum of the guitar is a little bit The Kooks, a tiny bit early-Bird Courage and Arctic Monkeys. After a successful ascent of the mountain, after a slight snowstorm, there is a 30ft fall ahead. The electricity of the music is replicated in the vocals, as Katie is a woman overwhelmed, and under foot. She is overcome and exacerbated: "Baby please/You've got me on my knees", is evocatively pronounced, portraying dramatic tension and rain-swept romantic tableaux. Our heroine implores to her paramour to not leave her and to take her with him. One can draw comparisons with female contemporaries such as P!nk, The Pretty Reckless and Adele, but she there is a credibility and intelligence that the first two do not posses, and unlike Adele, the emphasis is not on vocal alone. The backing is by no means subterfuge- it is right there holding our protagonist's hand. It is the changing moods and story-line twists, that infuse this song with such mystery and electricity. Very few modern bands can credibly pull off so many dips and switches and remain gripping. Jingo do it style. There is a real sense of story and parable in the lyrical arc, and this is sublimated by the nervy and fractious bait and switch. Around 1:51 there is a palpable rise in blood pressure as the vocal is held; guitar and instrumentation peaks, and the refrained "Baby please..." is with us, once more. It is an emotional coda, which far from being too morose, has a redemptive sensibility. The message is effective, and towards 3:00, the guitar contracts and bungees with elasticity, weaves and forges new paths. There are elements of U.S. acts such as The Eagles, Steely Dan and Queens of the Stone Age, which creates a heady and exciting bubble. The synthesised blends and notes give way to the chorus as we come to a close.

I have gone into...detail, as it is a compelling and unexpected treat. I was made aware of the group via a shared association with divinely intriguing chanteuse Lisa Marini. The polygamous respect and kinship that the group have is evident. There are no loose ends of frayed edges. The song is tight, focused and well rehearsed, and I am sure will become a live favourite. The combination of a singalong and memorable chorus, sharp and ubiquitous lyrics and an enthralling and battling percussion and electric guitar support that sets this song above many put forth by their peers. The shifting and unpredictable changes in tone and mood keep the track fascinating and unique, and is something many other groups would not think to do. The entire effect is contagious and commendable, and for a first song for a new band , it is quite an achievement. The vocals are assured, impassioned and powerful, suggesting colours of artists past and present, but at its bedrock it is an original and strong vocal. It ties American and England together in a beautiful alliance and creates a song that will stick in your head for a while.

Where Jingo go from here, is unsure. I am confident there will be an E.P. and album, and I hope that it is soon, as I am already hungry for more. I can suggest no negatives or offer constructive criticisms, as there are no faults here. If the song was too indebted to other tracks or played it safe, I would have said as much, but it retains and promotes all-conquering ambition, and possess a rare authenticity. Many establish acts reach a career point where they have peaked, yet continue to churn out albums when they have hit their creative rock bottom. The assumption that a sort of Kobayashi Maru can solve things is never wise or critically appreciated. I feel that Jingo will not be in danger of become stale at all, as they have a sense of adventure and will not be in danger of autosomal dominant. It is the mutual love and respect that they have for one another, coupled with a much-needed musical template that will see them playing festivals and wooing many a person, for years to come. The first song is always the scariest to premiere, as careers can be made, lost, crushed, or incubated on the strength of it. I suspect there will be more Facebook love very soon and an expansive Internet profile soon after, because soon enough...

... these guys are going to be very big, indeed.

__________________________________________________________________________________

Facebook:

http://www.facebook.com/jingomusic?ref=ts&fref=ts

Lisa Marini: 'Wonderful' - Track Review

Wonderful- Track Review

9.6/10.

It is music for the masses; simply effective and gripping from beginning to end.

Availability: 'Wonderful' is available on the E.P. 'Let It Live'- both available at: http://lisamarini.bandcamp.com/

___________________________________________________________________________

A multi-definitional song, that lives up to its title ...

is not a sentiment I have confidently expressed for some while now. One often has to circumvent their own skin and bones when analysing a song, as not to be too critical or pugnacious. Often artists or bands will boldly make statements about tracks, or give their work undeserved sparkling effusions, and compare themselves to some rather stellar talent. Subsequently, when being faced with their business plan, it can be quite easy to be derisive, when faced with their somewhat haughty profit and loss statements. Happily, I have born witness to a casual influx of rather under-valued virginal talent, each proffering their wares, immodestly. A lot of the acts have hailed from the beautiful north, especially around the Leeds area; a few have been from the home counties, but few have been based in London.

A new name to my mind, Lisa Marini arrives, as quite a curious case study. She is based in London, and has been performing for a little while now. She possess a modern and intoxication charm to her. She has the stunning looks and appeal more usually reserved for A-list Hollywood actresses, yet is down-to-earth and accessible. Lisa has several tattoos, and a perfectly mannered approach to performing. She has just released her E.P. 'Let It Live'- already receiving positive feedback and plaudits from social media. Anyone expecting either derivative hard rock, or flightless infantialised pop, will be in for a rather pleasant surprise. The music on the E.P. is mature and thought-provoking, sharing some resemblances to the likes of Lana Del Rey, Jessie Ware, and Adele, but has a rather different musical background. Influenced heavily by the blues, this sound comes through in the tracks, and backed by a Latin-blues style trio, the resultant genetic infusion conjures a memorable and unique blend. Unless you are part of a well-informed coffee clatch, or have both ears firmly to ground, hearing about artists such as Marini is a rather serendipitous happening. I have bemoaned the lack of appropriate purveyance, when seeking new music talent. The music industry is unswayed and motionless when running perpendicular to the economic woes. There is always an unending demand and fervency from all people. Subsequently, it should be of the utmost priority to cultivate, and crucially, promote any new acts bursting onto the scene. If you do not hear about who is approaching the musical horizon, it creates confusion. One day someone will money and a modicum of forethought will create a all-encompassing music website that makes it blissfully easy to hear great new talent. But for now, I shall be thankful that I have 'stumbled' upon the mercurial gifts of Lisa Marini.

'Wonderful' begins its life amidst an atmospheric and brooding stirring of strings, before guitar and percussion sweep in and kick the track to the next gear. Lisa's vocal is smoky and soothing, containing a beguilling blend of Ware, Del Rey, Sharleen Spiteri, Beth Gibbons and- perhaps- Laura Marling. It is with this polysyllabic multi-generational mixture that provides such initial intrigue. It is easy to be moved and reminiscent at the same time, whilst knowing that the song is in safe hands, and any ambivalence you may have had, will soon by dissipated. The female solo market is one of the most burgeoning and perhaps multi-tonal ones in music. There are a lot of varying styles, wardrobes, faces and figures; but essentially there is a sparsity of individuality: any arsonist intent that suggest that artist will set fire to the competition. The industry may be subjective to spartan conditions and fickle attention spans, but to rise above the bustling shoulders of your contemporaries, there needs to be more than ambition to your synopsis. Lisa is unequivocal in her intentions: to grab you and set herself apart from the over-expansive middle of the road traffic. The way Marini elongates and teases flection from her words, is sensual and ethereal. The way the words, "For you/To stand by...", are drizzled over a simple guitar backing, is rather pleasing. The song was written a few y ears, as Lisa explains, about "being inspired to a higher place". Whether this apithany occurred after the break up or formation of a relationship, or whether the muse was more spectral, is perhaps open for ambiguity. I suspect, due to the fact that the lyrics pervade quite a lot of discourse, that the reason for change or the foreshadowing ghost in the works, was a former beau. If you take some of the words at face value: "But all of this chaos in my mind", you may be thinking that there is a lot of self-doubt in our heroine's mind. It is explained that all of this disorder and temperamental unease, and pure chaos that ensued "controlled all my possibilities". There has been tumult in our protagonist's life, where things have been uncertain; lost; ripped apart and discarded, but there is a glimmer of hope. She feels invigorated and soul-replenished as the chorus calls out to that special paragon: "You inspire me". The chorus has a simple and emphatic rush to it. It is uplifting and radio-friendly, without ever succumbing to de-intellectualisation or predictability. It will cause many a listener- male and female alike- to chant its coda and feel that there is a lot of personal readability in its message. The deployment of classic strings after the chorus, lends an aura of Hispanic glorious quiescent. Your mind is transported telekinetic to a quaint Spanish taverna on a June night, or a Los Cabos moonlit night. With a re-energised vigour to her tone, Marini expounds her mantra: "There's more to living/Than just compromise". Just as at the start, there are recollections of emotional entropy. The mood is electric with absolution and exorcising. Just as your soul is willing to lend an outstretched hand, the windswept mood is abated and our mystery saviour is re-introduced, igniting the chorus once more. The subtle clashes and modulation in the music give a real emotion tangibility to proceedings, and the inclusion of strings elevates the atmosphere.

Overall the track is memorable and cohesive. The lyrics track well, and the story is both universal and deeply personal. It is a song that will resonate with many people, and not just those in the female demographic. The chorus is perfectly placed and tight and adds a delicate mood shift after the verses. The vocal performance is solid and fascinating. I have alluded to perhaps some influences in the delivery and tone, but to my mind I cannot think of any other female artists who sounds like Lisa Marini. She has a dusky and smoky sexiness to her delivery, as well grace and power. She elongates and twists words to provide maximum emotional impaction, giving the impression of a woman who knows all too well of the turmoil she has undergone, and appreciative of the renewed lease of life she has been provided. I admire the musical accompaniment, throughout. It is never imposing nor overwrought; it infuses and teases where it needs to, whilst bolstering where required too. The combination is vote-winning and impressive, and there is great originality and ambition to the song. The production is smooth and focused. The sound is not too polished and over-produced, instead it allows all of the key components to shine and delineate with little fuss or strain. In spite of the fact that the song is over 3 minutes long, it does not feel as such. It implores repeated listening, and will resonate and stick in your mind for a long while to come.

Lisa Marini deserves commendation and subscription, usually reserved for the established elite of music. She is able to reconcile rapprochement in many peoples mind, as to the lack of diverse sounds within the solo market. In a landscape that mostly consists of bleeding hearts, over-earnest protestations and plaintive impact, there is a much-needed demand for quality and quantity, amongst the viscus murk of the current scene. There is talent out there, for sure, but for most it will be subjugated for many years, hinging on financial constraints, prevailing market trends, and personal circumstance. I feel that Marini will not be a secret for too much longer. She has a busy tour schedule ahead which sees her touring London. Her E.P. is but a sapling, and from the other tracks I have heard, proves that 'Wonderful' is no anomalous triumph. There is a consistency and innate understanding of the needs of the consumer, through the usage of intelligent and emotional lyricism, cultured and expansive sounds, combined with a alluring and captivating vocal talent. Tie this in with the image of a woman, gifted with incredible beauty and sex appeal, and the ensuing combination is almost mythological. Take a listen to the track, as well as the E.P. as a whole, and judge for yourself. I am a keen singer-songwriter myself, and usually enamoured of rock and heavy metal for the most part. The effusiveness displayed from the review is not hyperbole or over-exaggeration. It is great music, that transcends your mood and musical leanings. Have a listen, and rest-assured...

... you will not be disappointed.

__________________________________________________________________________________

Official site:

http://www.lisamarini.com/#home

Facebook:

http://www.facebook.com/events/567023933322401/?ref=22#!/marinimusic

Twitter:

https://twitter.com/LisaMariniMusic

YouTube:

http://www.youtube.com/user/liasmarinimusic

BandCamp:

http://lisamarini.bandcamp.com/

Upcoming gigs:

April 1 - The Water Rats @ 7.45pm
Lisa Marini with James Bennett

April 4 - Soul South Arch 635 @ 8.30pm
Lisa Marini with James Bennett & Penny Elkins

April 19th - The Regal Room, Hammersmith
Lisa Marini with James Bennett & Penny Elkins

April 21 - Radio Dacorum @ 5.00pm
Tune in for a live radio performance and interview

April 25 - The Elgin
Lisa Marini with James Bennett

May 3rd - The Aleksander @ 8.00pm
Lisa Marini with James Bennett & Penny Elkins

May 19 - Brooklands Radio @ 7.00pm
Tune in for a live radio performance and interview

July 11 - The Pelton Arms, Greenwich @ 8.00pm
Lisa Marini with James Bennett

August 1 - The Shortlands Tavern, Bromley @ 8.00pm
Lisa Marini with James Bennett

The Whitaker Brothers: 'Good Love'- Track Review

'Good Love'-  Track Review-

8.3/10.

For a duo that can rely a little too much on toilet humour, they do proper rock rather very well.

Availability: 'Good Love' is available online at: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_7UwexvYodg

___________________________________________________________________________

They may be a new name, ringing to your ears...

but are well worth checking out. I have been subject to a lot of diverse and serotonin syndrome-espousing acts from all around the country- as well as good old Australia. They have ranged in styles; from dub-step, through jazz, and all the way to blues rock. I have had to maintain a level of objectivity and detach myself enough to give the artists a fair hearing. What I have heard is a collection of incredibly memorable and commendable artists. It has been difficult locating a lot of them, often relying upon word of mouth and chance happenings. The majority of the acts have been in the demographic of 18-30, and have had little long-term, exposure and experience.

The Whitaker Brothers, are Tim and Simon, and blend acoustic guitars with steel drums. To see them would to think they have just completed a round the world tour as part of a heavy metal band of the '70s. They smile with golden locks, earrings and boast that they can blend deep lyrics with "harmonious rock vocals". I was made aware of their prescience by an old comrade of mine, who was eager that I check them out. They have toured locally for a long time, but have touring and playing since the late '70s and divide their time between performing and promoting new acts. Their current album, 'Animated' raised my eyebrows. Some reviewers have ignobly compared it to lipid residue; highlighting a couple of choice cuts but being rather sardonic and cut-throat in their extrapolations. Online magazine Sonic Shocks described it (album), as something that "can't help to feel connected", adding that the majority of the album was "ego stroking". Some reviews lauded the inclusion of toilet humour and cheap jokes. Unless you are Spinal Tap, it is generally quite unacceptable to overtly humorise music. It is a risky business, and rarely hits the mark. Parody artists and comedians can do it with aplomb, but for musicians who have an impressive catalogue, it is perhaps unwise. Sifting further there were many rays of lights. Sputnik Music were more praise-worthy, noting that the record is a "good listen". The trouble with music is that, like most art forms and sectors of entertainment, it is very subjective. Seemingly great albums are met with haughty derision, whilst sub-par nonsense is often elevated aloft a critical pulpit. The most salient tactic, when faced with music, is to remain open-minded and sit sentient. Absorb it, write your thoughts, and be as constructive as possible.

I have heard the song 'Good Love' referred to as 'mainstream'. That word can be a poisoned chalice if not appropriately apportioned. It is hard to describe whether that term is good or not. Bands such as The Strokes have suffered a nadir and downward trajectory in their career, with their latest album suffering from French millennial cusp, indelicate self-flagellation and threadbare algorithms. The band are concerned to be on the nucleus of the mainstream: floating aloft, seemingly too cool and credible to be tattooed with such a derivative and execrable term. Upon experiencing the initial seconds of 'Good Love', any misappropriation is laid to rest. Introducing its presence with a brief tambourine shake, and a shit-kicking electronic thud, it is impactful but not too heavy-handed. In the same way that all of the best rock bands of today- Queens of the Stone Age, Arctic Monkeys etc.- are able to grab your attention in a mere few seconds, this song achieves the same neat trick. There are shades of Jack White and his voyeuristic misdemeanour as the duo weave a tapestry of neo-psychedelia and primal lust. There is a memesis of heavy machinery, clattering mechanical zombies hungry for localised flesh. It is primitive and prurient and certain shifts and transposes your organs, as you sway and stagger, mesmerised. There is quite an intention to it. Having a bit of a weird, eidetic ability to detect and incorporate vocal influences, I was curious to hear what the good love vocal would be. Initially there is a wordless tweep and co; soon is tag teams with a wolverine growl. For me it figures high on the Likert Scale, and has pretensions for gut-busting sabre-rattling. There is an expeditious burst of guitar before a cry of 'good love', is proclaimed. Perhaps I am analysing the band too retroactively, given their sizeable career. As a newbie, I am detecting classic rock tones in the vocals. Strangely there are vague tones of Lenny Kravitz to the vocals as well, which, co-existing with a workmanlike percussion and sparks of electric guitar, works surprisingly well. The lyrics mix old-fashioned romantic sentiment with a slightly politicised edge: "Who knows the future/When the wind is changing?". I guess- rather despairingly- ineptitude of political parties is always current and ripe for a criticism, passim or otherwise. Here is it added to the mix sparingly, intended to punctuate rather than antogonise. There are sprinklings of motivational coda, the likes of which mid-career Bon Jovi or Marillion might employ. "Hold your head up high" and "Sing your song out loud", are perhaps a little cliched and stereotyped: hardly the work of Juvenalis. It hardly matters, mind, as the words are incorporated to invoke fist-raising and chanting; one suspects it will be a live staple, and has a festival-ready charm to it. Just as you are prepared for perhaps another about-face there is guitar stutter, before 'good love' is sang, the 'love' part elongated and hung in the air for 1-Mississippi, 2-Mississippi; well in fact for a long, long time. It was still going by the time I had come back from town with some shopping. There is a fraction of silence, and some Hendrix-worthy posturing and playfulness is dispatched to ratchet the tension and induce maximum emotional anxiety. There is quite a palpable and re-collective aura of '60s psychedelia and experimentation, as well as flavours of the heavy metal messiahs of the '80s and '90s- Judas Priest, Queensryche, Tool, Guns 'N Roses, et al. The chugging and spluttering riff has no deciduous quality, instead announcing itself with a omnia vincit amor spirit. It doesn't need to change tone or direction. It is simple in its power and lust; it is a potent brew! Before you become immersed with the pyrotechnic miasma, the front-man returns to provide some love proclamations of the affirmative kind. There are more inspirational mandates to be heard: "Good love puts you in first place/Doesn't matter even if you lose the race". The positive waves continue as the band implore good vibes and an unashamed lack of self-control. It is infectious in its way, and on a base level, it will instill a smile in your heart. With nary a concern for expectations, the song is brought down to Earth, via a metaphase of guitar spanking and jubilant abandon.

Let's get the negatives and constructive criticisms done with first. I am always baffled when listening to Queen's 'Fat Bottomed Girls'. I always strain my ears because during the early stages of the song, Mercury's vocal is barely decipherable, mixed so low that it is hard to hear. Whether that was intended as a dramatic device or was a whimsical band decision I have never understood why they did it. There are times during 'Good Love' where the vocal is buried too low in the mix, amidst the clatter and cacophony of guitar and percussion. With no lyrics sheet online available, I had a mare of a time encrypting some of the semi-audible words. The vocal is clearly defined during the chorus and towards the end of the track, but suffers from some poor production decisions, during its initial third. It is quite an impediment, and quite disappointing for someone such as myself who is obsessed with vocals. I suspect that the band were concerned with projecting a tangible tension and clout with the music, that the vocals were sublimated in order to make way. The group have a reputation for sterling and intelligent lyrics, and there is some clear evidence of this during the song. However, there are times when they seem like they are trying to post 'motivational' messages on Facebook. Snatches of some of the lyrics did make me wince slightly, and seemed a little juvenile and frugal. The lyrical tone of love, and rebelling; getting up and fighting, is a little stayed at times, and was a pertinent subject matter during the band's heyday. It seems like a product of the past and seems to be gridlocked in the mid-80s. There is a semblance of modernity and credibility here and there, but some of the time the band are guilty of being cloying and looks-obsessed.

There are, however, many more positives to recommend. The entire track seems very tight and very blue chip in its business aesthete. The group have been dogs of war and stalwarts of the musical business for a while, and know how to chisel concise chef d'oeuvres. Lesser groups would stray into Prog Rock territory and allow the song to pitch and wallow for 5 or 6 minutes longer. The song is catchy and, in spite of some of its derivations, is left-wing and all conquering in its ubiquity. There is no over-complications; the brothers have managed to inject such fun, energy and overt electioneering spirit within one track that it is impossible not to embrace and take to heart. Perhaps the fact that the song seems to be of a bygone era is a positive. In a current climate where the most credible acts are concerned mostly with introspection and emotion, The Whitaker Brothers have a rebellious disregard for topical and populism, and have written and created a track that speaks to the privileged elite who appreciate the value of good old-fashion song-craft and spirit. It supersedes your mood and lifts you up, guaranteeing a smile on the stoniest of faces. There is a youthful vigor still burning in the loins of the band, and they have not lost too many steps along the way. In spite of their combined years, they have as much right to be on a festival stage with the cream of the modern crop. I was impressed by the concoction of so many different genres and sounds. They is a strong and solid rock skin, that supports organisms of reggae, soul, heavy metal, '60s pop and island rhythm. Befitting of an act who have been performing together for so many years, they have a low-yield potential. Songs like this will push them beyond the pub rooms of Surrey and the Home Counties, and will guarantee an osmosis of their banner nationally, as well as trans-continental. Finally special commendation should go to the vocal and musical combination. The singing is captivating and pioneering. Many a time I can trace the lineage of a singer's voice to several other acts or artists. In the case of The Whitaker Brothers, there is a refreshing individuality and niche appeal to them. The guitar playing is exemplary, showing influences of the guitar gods like Hendrix, Page and Clapton, and modern Wunderkinds Jack White and Matt Bellamy.

The reticence that many reviewers displayed towards the duo's album may be well-founded. Whether you view the group as an esoterica or revivalists may colour your judgment. In the same way that I mentioned music was a subjective sticking point, the same can be true or certain acts and styles of music. I am actually looking forward to hearing their release, and what they have to offer. Based on the strength of this song, I am sure that it is not a fluke or serendipitous happening. I will be sure to catch the lads when they are performing in Surrey, before they get recruited to perform the festival circuit. I would advise that any preconceptions or malaise you have before hand, you set aside, and view the song on its own merits, circular to any reviews or similar acts. What you will find is a genuine feelgood song, with a sensitivity as well as a keen insight and hard backbone. The Whitaker Brothers are new news to me, but am determined that through the remainder of 2013...

... I will spread their gospel further afield.

__________________________________________________________________________________

Official:

http://www.thewhitakerbrothers.com/

Facebook:

http://www.facebook.com/TheWhitakerBrothers

Twitter:

https://twitter.com/whitakerbros</A></P

Myspace:

http://www.myspace.com/tymwhitaker

iTunes:

https://itunes.apple.com/us/artist/the-whitaker-brothers/id498059327

Molotov Jukebox- Track Reviews

Track Reviews:

'Tick Tock' & 'Laid to Rest'

9.6/10 & 9.4/10

Genre-elusive talents, posses a Siren of a front-woman, and one hell of a sound.

Availability: Tracks available now via https://itunes.apple.com/gb/artist/molotov-jukebox/id398571684

___________________________________________________________________________

This act have earned their plaudits; and have a busy future ahead of them...

including, rather impressively, a slot at this year's Glastonbury Festival. There will be some imperious eyebrow-raising from jealous peers, puce with envy, over the band's successful trajectory. With one of the most evocative and psychotropic names in the music industry, Molotov Jukebox, certainly have an intoxicating sound. Molotov Cocktail, was a name coined by the Finns, during the Winter War. It is, put simply, a bottle filled with gasoline and/or a napalm-like substance, used ostensibly during guerrilla conflicts and protests. They featured prominently during the Spanish Civil War and World War II, and are a highly effective weaponised hatred. You know what a jukebox is. Often the faulty or stuttering kinds were jump-started by a leather-clad Henry Winkler during the '70s and '80s. Those are the two playlets that were acted out in my head, when deconstructing the band's name. Their music, and aesthetic is appropriately variegated and striking.

I was made aware of the band, rather auspiciously by actress Roxanne Mckee, who judging from her unfettered promotion of great new bands, seems to have a keen ear to the ground. I mention it, partly to highlight one of the few upsides to social media. If you are the right place at the right time, you happen upon great things; fascinating people, and terrific new talent. Another point that is rather prescient, would be that being 'in the right place' at the 'right time', is mathematically and logistically null, and the two are mutually exclusive of one another. I guess, to assuage any anger over this, it is hard to make people aware of every relevant and exciting band in the U.K., but it has inspired me to design and plan an all-encompassing website, in order for it to make chance occurrences a thing of the past. I am glad I have found out about the group, and was intrigued by their design and manifesto. In their own words, they are "genre-dodging", and imbued with an innate need to make people dance and feel happy. It is a rousing election plea in an era of navel-gazing and hyperbolic introspection in the industry, and a lot of artists are focused too solely on unleashing sensitive emotions and turmoil as interestingly as possible. With a diffuse interest in pure fun, the band are not pure rhetoric; they have the talent to back up their pledges. Flanked and nobly elevated by a tight and mature rhythm section, and possessing a Pandora's Box of trumpet, violin and accordion, Molotov Jukebox, have a metaphorical arsenal of weaponry, in order to propagate their aspoused theory. Before I get under way reviewing the tracks, I'd like to give a very honourable mention to the group's front-woman, Natalia Tena. She is a British-born talent, who is best known for her acting work, in, amongst other things, Game of Thrones (where she co-starred with the aforementioned miss Mckee), and Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. Bands fronted by actresses have ranged from the average (Julliete and the Licks); to the curiously under-appreciated (She & Him); to the plain bloody awful (Wicked Wisdom), it can be a either a curate's egg or a devil's advocate-in-disguised. Tena has luxurious and tongue-dropping Hispanic looks. She is gorgeous and stunning, and lends an additional cachet to the band. But those thinking that these diverse chemicals co-mingling will create a Briggs-Rasucher Reaction, rather than a Stellar Black Hole, should think again...

Thankfully haven't nothing in common (but its title) with Ke$ha's dreadful racket, 'Tick Tock' is a whirling dervish of conviviality. It gestates amidst a studied machine gun riffle of percussion and baggy, swaying electric strings it is a veritable Fibbonaci number of sound and intrigue. The vocal that enters has a great uniqueness. There are smidges of a smoother-edged Lily Allen; a whisper of Caro Emerald and Little Violet. The delivery has a lot in common for the former; the words tumble and spark as they are born forth. The metronome delivery and horlogical-themed lyrics are witty and incisive. Our heroine ascribes how: "But he looks with face/What he collects with his hands", is sharp, and Bob Dylan/Arctic Monkeys-worthy in its intelligence and unexpectedness. The combination of time-addled wit and a sex, sea, sun and sand burst of carnival horns and brass, engages your brain, mobilises your feet and neutralises your stresses all within the first verse. I was hearing influences of Nelly Futardo, circa-'Woah, Nelly!' as well as shadings of Allen. As a singer-songwriter myself, I am constantly trying to expand my voice, as well as hone my lyrics, in order to keep pushing myself. I could see little direct comparison with existing artists. The vocals are worldly and vibrant, with little debt owed to any mainstream band or artist. Natalia has a utilitarian warmth and sexiness to her tones, but also has an edge and street savviness to her delivery. The song deals with how time drags our protagonist down, keeps her up, and takes pleasure in "screwing (me) when I'm fucking late". Through a breathless and syncopated delivery, the vocal has an urgency and harried sweat to it. As the chorus arrives there is a more relaxed and accepting resignation as it is said that: "You just can't stop it, so/Dance to it just let go". Natalia's band-mates are equally impressive, creating a joyous fiesta during the choruses, and are more reserved and reverent during the verses; expertly punctuating appropriate word and phrases. The middle eight is particularly noteworthy. Through the employment of multi-tracked vocals, staccato brass trumpeting and a taupe mood, the song shifts down a few gears. The word 'wait' is deployed as a mantra; repeated and echoed to great effect, injected a sense of unnerve into the bloodstream. Before a padre is dispatched to provide moral council and a much-needed diablo arse-kicking, the chorus restores some clemency. The song will bore deep within your pons and will not shift. It is infectious and heart-warming. It doesn't need to experimental, angular or left-field. It charms and seduces by its combination of astute and thoughtful lyrics, iscocratic and stunning vocals, as well as a tremendously diverse and uplifting sonic aura.

'Laid to Rest' has arrived from the street party, glitter and ephemera in hair, wine stains on its dress, and a primordial cock in its walk. The intro is the sound of the tired party girl trying to snatch a few winks. The street lights hum with mellifluous ardour; there is a rain swept rhythm pattering the rooftops, and somewhere down in the street, a mysterious man in black stands by the doorway of the local jazz bar. He looks up as the girl closes the curtains and switches the light off, and stubs out his cigarette, before walking to a telephone box, a deceitful glint in his tired eye. As the intro begins, the phone rings in the girl's apartment, but is hidden under a pile of clothing, stilettos and old books, and is inaudible. Our shadowy enigma slams the receiver down, and leans against the glass, and pulls out a love letter and starts to read. More on that later... The intro begins with a romantic sweep. It is the sort of sound you would hear emanating from a swing/jazz joint from the '20s and '30s. Before you can allow your subconscious to relax and drift to a begotten era, a pulsating drumbeat swagger in. A gypsy dance trips with gleeful en dedans; it has touches of Kirsty MacColl and Shakira (but much more credible and authentic). The vocal that beckons, is again somewhat incomparable, and has a reliable warmth and strength to it. There are influences of swing, jazz and ye-ye in the gene pool, and it is that combination which ignites your inner dark recesses and compels you to be upstanding. The lyrics are again pin-sharp and display a shift of emotional turmoil. There's a sense of desperation: "Please let me stay, please let me stay", as well as evocations of a loss of spirit: "I had speeches I had scenes". Whereas 'Tick Tock' had a simultaneous submission and ubiquitous stress to its mandate; 'Laid to Rest' has a downtrodden, put-upon frown on its face. Own once hopefully and besotted heroin, and wonders where her dreams went: "One more night inside". The mood modulates and transposes; at once vigorous and charged, it changes to a swoon and introspective candour within a few seconds. The music beautifully conveys the tortured and fractious story that is being narrated. The music has an emotive quality and conviction, creating a tangible reality. The percussion is solid and blue-collared. The blues and brass perpetuate augmented ninths, flamenco blushes and magnetising semi-tones. Special props go to Tena, whose voice is gloriously anomalous. She has an ability to shift from angelic to seductress with ease and could conjure uhthoff's phenomenon with a mere whisper. Her beatnik beau has pissed her off. She wonders why her paramour is only a man when he has a drink in his hand. The riot act is well and truly read when she says: "I'm bleeding like a soldier/Into your pint of pride". It is a clever play on words and paints the image of a woman who has given her heart and sweat to a man who has given nothing in return. To return to our parable, the day has broken, and the emotional and literal hangover hits our leading lady. She puts on her clothes, applies her make up, and grabs a cup of coffee. She hears a knock on the door, and on the mat is a love note. The smell of tobacco and whiskey lingers like a refrain, and she scans it, with tears in her eyes. As she reaches the end she holds it to her chest and smiles, relieved. What was written, is all down to your imagination...

The guys and gal of Molotov Jukebox will not need me endorsement and patronage in order to penetrate public consciousness. With a future consisting of intercontinental tour dates, and a prestigious slot at Glastonbury, the future will be very bright. I hope that more people embrace their sound and doctrine. They are confident, tight, and an extremely talented group. Given as I am to stick quite firmly to bands such as Queens of the Stone Age and Radiohead, I would never normally lend too much credence for the band's style of music. Upon listening to these tracks, as well as several more in their catalogue, a reappropriation of my music attitudes is needed. The best you can ask for in new music, is that it inspires you. Since listening to their tracks, I have made headway as a writer and written a new song, as well as incorporated new sounds into my palette. As a singer I have been compounded to up my game, and re-evaluate my trajectory. If you are a fan of gypsy or samba, you will find much familiar ground. If you are a supporter of stoner rock or heavy metal, then the band will appeal as well. In the way they are 'genre-less', they are have a unwavering universality that will speak to you quite potently. If you are unfamiliar with Molotov Jukebox, then sit down...

... and prepare to be inspired.

__________________________________________________________________________________

Official site:

http://www.molotov-jukebox.co.uk/

MySpace:

http://www.myspace.com/molotovjukebox

Facebook:

http://www.facebook.com/mojuband

Twitter:

https://twitter.com/Molotov_Jukebox

YouTube:

http://www.youtube.com/user/MolotovJukebox

SoundCloud:

http://soundcloud.com/molotovjukebox

Upcoming gigs:

May 25th, 2013:

Babylon Soundgarden Festival, Kemer Gold and Country Cluib,

Instanbul, Turkey.

May 26th:

Babylon Soundgarden Festival, ODTU Visnelik,

Ankara, Turkey

June 28th:

Glastonbury Festival,

Somerset, England.

For all future dates and details:

http://www.molotov-jukebox.co.uk/index.php?/gig-dates/

The Jar Family: 'Machine'& 'Footsteps'- Track Reviews

'Machine'&'Footsteps'- Track Reviews

9.4/10 & 9.4/10

Rag-tag clan of musical curios, create music that has you yearning for the past, and longing for the future.

Availability: 'Machine' and 'Footsteps' are available at: http://soundcloud.com/search?q%5Bfulltext%5D=the+jar+family

___________________________________________________________________________

They have been going strong for 3 years now...

and in that time, in their own words, have "amassed such a sizeable collection of songs". I have been reviewing a lot of Northern bands and acts over the past couple of weeks. From the swing/jazz styling of Little Violet to the blues rock sway of JonnytheFirth; through to Rose and the Howling North's mixture of Nancy Sinatra-esque soul and modern blues-rock fusings, I have been blown away. A lot of media hoopla is centred on existing artists, and old legends like David Bowie returning to the fold. New bands are featured here and there, but seems to be a diffuse attention-span given to their trajectory and raw and unadulterated desire to be classed amongst the pack. They all deserve to, as well. I have been amazed by the range of sounds and styles that are available; the likes of which would likely never be heard, if it weren't for being 'in he right place at the right time'. I have had to dig through coal to find gold, and although ultimately satisfying, it should not be so tough to uncover world-class music in a highly utilised and multi-faceted electronic age.

Rant aside, let me inject an aura of sensibility and biography. The Jar Family have been on, or bubbling under the radar since their formation, back in 2010. I was made aware of their attention via The Guardian, and have been described, rather under-appreciatively, as: "what Pete Doherty might sound like busking". Whether one finds insult in being compared with a veracious crackhead and tabloid enemy, or complimented at being grouped with one of the 21st century's most accomplished songwriters, is hard to say. It seems like a moot comparable, as the band share only a modicum of Mr. Doherty's personal or musical D.N.A, and have a less controvertible image and personality. That said, the group have supported Doherty's sister band, Babyshambles, as well as providing tantalising warm up vibes for the likes of Alabama 3, The Charlatans, and modern Dylan-in-waiting, Jake Bugg. Quite a heady and diverse mixture of acts, and a pertinent indication of the range and clarity of the troupe's sound. The Jar Family themselves have had a movie-worthy last few years. Formed out of the frustrations and hardships of economic despondency and unpredictability, they have been wowing their native Hartlepool and the North as well as a wider demographic ever since. in August they release their new single 'Broken Minded', a song I am sure I will be reviewing nearer the time. The band have already recorded an army of tracks, and release an album later this year. From a cursory reconnaissance of associated acts, The Jar Family stand out. Their attire and aesthetic is highfalutin and reminiscent of Victorian detective agency. You could imagine Holmes and Watson, pacing the floors of Baker Street, searching for clues to solve a grisly murder. Holmes with pipe in hand; Watson glancing out of a candlelit window, as down below their associates roam the streets of London, in search of justice. A perpendicularity can be drawn between the parable and reality. The eight-piece clan do not have a uniformity in their style like The White Stripes; instead each have a different style and eccentric individuality to their look; kooky, but compelling none-the-less. Their sound, too, has hints of the past; parts Dylan, bits of Blue Oyster Cult, and, curiously, Chas and Dave too. It was with a light and agile witted heart that I inked my pen, and prepared to divulge my impressions and first thoughts open hearing their songs.

First up, is going to be the opening track to their forthcoming album. The Guardian described the track, rather preciously, as "anomalous"; a word that would usually be regarded as complimentary, but given the remainder of their summation of the album's tracks, feels awash with thinly-veiled disregard and disinterest. Having heard the track for the first time, one thing comes straight to mind: de-wax your ears Paul Lester (The Guardian). The song I hear is much more astute and incomparable. I am reminded of the opening line to Samuel Beckett's 1953 work, 'The Unnamable': "Where now? Who now? When now?". These are the questions that I'd like to answer, rather than becoming bogged down in trite semantics and under-exaggeration, I'll drill to the bedrock. Beginning with a clattering of a typewritter's keys, there is a detectable literacy and scene-setting motif provided within a few seconds. From there, we transition to a scuzzy, put-out-on-a-first date riff; reminiscent of Black Rebel Motorcycle Club. A sort of opening Auto-Erotic Suicide She Wrote. The riff is pervasive and evolutionary. It hunts, eats, feeds and grows with a middle finger to Creationists. The byplay between the intergalactic riff and pummeling percussion is oddly insouciant. The resultant sonic cardiac dysrhythmia, is enthralling and dangerous. There are flecks of Jack White and Josh Homme in the fret work, and as the intro chugs along, the machine becomes unslakable. The vocal that enters the stage, has components of Jake Bugg and a young Bob Dylan. It resonates the same way, yet sounds less addled than Dylan, and fresher than Bugg. The hypothetical 'when now?' is the '60s-cum-early 1990s. Although distinctly their own men, The Jar Family have a familiar brace and vibrancy to their attack; sounds of Britpop and The Bluetones, co-mingle with the early punk purveyors. Some of the lyrics can, however, edge towards facetious: "I wanna free you like a heart attack", is a little detached. There is an urgency and breathlessness to the vocals and when the lines: "Give me a reason/Give me some time" and "Get on the machine", are delivered, they are done so with dramaturgical conviction, and brings them back on track. The whole aesthetic of the song, and by extension, the band themselves is looseness and playfulness. In the same way that The Beatles did with albums such as Please Please Me, our Victorian urchins have an equal floppy-haired appeal. The chorus is chant-worthy, and the spirit is evocative of a happier, less sybaritic age of music. I guess the 'who now?' question has been answered. It is unfair to collate the music of The Jar Family with any other act. They have genetic similarities, but the way they mesh sounds and concecrate joviality together with a hard rock spirit is unlike any band doing the rounds today. Towards the final third, there are meditative guitar lines, and when the line: "I'm not a preacher", is delivered there is a vague wink of irony. The band are imploring you to 'get on the machine' and onto their wave; there is preaching afoot, but it is never ecclesiastical; it is without doctrine or oath. There is merriment, intrigue and, the answer to 'where now?', in my opinion, is onwards and upwards. To answer the disingenuous critics and the uninitiated who say that the band are a tributary, rather than sea change, I would say to keep listening to 'Machine' as it will lodge in your skull quicker than you realise. If you're still unsure, I will leave with a quote from Thomas Yorke, circa 2001's 'Packt Like Sardines in a Crushd Tin Box': "I'm a reasonable man/Get off of my case". That applies to you Mr. Lester!

Perhaps acting as a panacea, to counteract the metallic taste of Machine, Footsteps begins life as a quiet child. There is a fleck of The Eagles' 'Lying Eyes'-meets The Coral circa-'Magic and Medicine'. The baggy, clicking heels intro will lift you and compel you to listen hard. The vocal is an unexpected treat. When anticipating the ensuing tone from hearing the intro, there are parallels with Schrodinger's Cat. There is a measure of quantum superstition in your attitude. Until you actually hear what is coming, it is impossible to predict or know for sure. The vocal that ends suspense is calm and sensuous. It is like Pete D. has cleaned up, received singing lessons from Noel Gallagher, and has just had his heart broken. The music has a calm and mellifluous charm. The vocal sounds like it is was born on America's west coast. There are moods of Californian folk/country, as if sped up a few RPMs. The sentiments expressed have an appropriate cachet to them. There is doubt and relationship tension: "Then you come home/Wonder why..." and longing maturity and self-reflection: "I just wanna settle down". There are semitones of James Blunt in the tremulous vocal performance, but far, far more credible and lovable. It is a softer, more evocative croon. If you close your eyes and follow the song, vivid and sun-filled images come to mind. It takes you inside of the lyrics and you can picture what our protagonist means; every heartfelt word resonating with clarity. When the harmonica is dusted off, and injects some emotional wind into the emotional meteorology, the Dylan comparisons seem appropriate. Although The Jar Family don't posses the same epoch-defining lyricism of Dylan, they have a romanticism that Dylan didn't quite achieve until 1975. There is perhaps not the same reverence as contained within the likes of 'Tangled Up In Blue', but at the same time there is less mauvaise foi as well. The chaps are wearing hearts on sleeves, and implore you to listen up good. It is quite a bold about-face of 'Machine' but no less impressive. Over the course of 2 tight and impressive tracks the band have accomplished and conquered a wide empire of emotional ground, and planted flags in enemy territory.

If you are hearing about this band for the first time, I would suggest three things. Firstly, have a listen to each of these tracks on their own merit, and judge for yourself which is the stronger or more memorable of the two. Secondly, delve back into their extensive catalogue, and explore the range of styles, sounds and emotions this mighty band of men achieve. Lastly, once this is done, brace yourself for their impending album, as it will be something to treasure. The Jar Family have a unique and beguiling uniformity to their image. They already distinguish themselves from the pack on looks alone. Their lyrics are diverse and striking. Some times they lapse into nihility, but most of the time they are mature and incisive. The band are chameleons in the desert landscape; they blend beautiful whether the sand blows a storm, or the sun burns to the core. The vocals are never third-rate to any of the influences or artists I have picked out in this review. There are smooth, soulful tones; jagged rock edges, and an authenticity to every word spoken.

So the beautiful North are creating quite a stir at the moment. In years gone by, it was the cities of London and Oxford that produced the golden talents (except of course for the rush of Mancunian talent from the '80s-late '90s), the geographical shift prove that the rich-poor divide is true financially as well as musically. I'm not sure it diminished wealth and fiduciary headaches promote creativity and a unequivocal drive for success, but there does seem to be a coloration. Perhaps an impending triple-dip recession may not be the worst thing in the world, if it spurned similar bands to rise and intoxicate. It has been a good day of music for me today and The Jar Family are already lodged within my brain and soul. They have elements of Britpop, classic '60s pop and have a very modern drive and mandate, in spite of the neo-Victorian band boutique. If I were to bookmark the review with some literary lines, the most appropriate would be the final lines of 'Speak Memory' by Vladimir Nabokov. But I'll explain more...

... the next time we meet.

__________________________________________________________________________________

Official:

http://thejarfamily.com

Facebook:

http://www.facebook.com/TheJarFamily

Twitter:

https://twitter.com/TheJARfamily

Myspace:

http://www.myspace.com/jarfamily

iTunes:

https://itunes.apple.com/us/artist/the-jar-family/id467608211

YouTube:

http://www.youtube.com/user/TheJarfamily?feature=watch

Dead Cassette- 'Sandcastles'- E.P. Review

'Sandcastles'- E.P. Review

9.1/10

Surrey-based band, have the charm, innovation and raw mobility to rise well above the rampant competition.

Availability: 'Sandcastles' is available via:  http://soundcloud.com/dead_cassette/sets/dead-cassette

___________________________________________________________________________

The 'band' moniker produces a myriad of charitable cogitation, as to what one would have to achieve in order to be near the benchmark...

and reign amidst a swelling rank of bands in the music business. The formula in order to obtain and sculpt a musical Pillars of Hercules is five-fold. The words have to be fresh and engaging; not subject to cliche or rank hyperbole and crass perturbation. The music that bonds the words needs to contain excitement, innovation and a genuine wit; or at the very least, it needs to grip and compel, not merely wander about shyly in the background. The vocals must not be too comparable to existing muses, and have a shade of originality and development. The band have to have an intelligence and forward thinking approach to their aesthete and song/album titles. Finally, the combination of these four statutes, must combined, evoke a tingle and reverent pleasure among the listener. It can be similar to existing music without being a glib facsimile. The band has to be likeable and compel you to listen, and seek them out in the future. As quantity subjugates quality, with every passing month, the commercial and spiritual epiphany is hard to achieve. This is not a criticism. Music is a huge open market, and there is room for anyone and everyone. There are many bands that have far too many similarities to current bands, and come across as third-rate knock-off, deserving of flagellation. I have been more impressed recently about new music, than I have been at any other time in my life. If you look hard enough, and turn over ever cyber carpet and stool, searching for a gleam of gold, it can be found. Mass appeal is contingent on a communal subjectiveness, and a tantilising USP to boot. It is not found or heard of often, but sometimes you are pleasantly surprised.

Sam, Michael, Jordan and Alex, are, collectively, Dead Cassette. I have been aware of them for about a year or so, and they have a faithful, if not Bieber-proportioned following among Twitter and Facebook. But unlike the aforementioned nauseating pop moppet, the band are concerned with the business of producing commendable and authentic music, retaining a loyal band of support, whilst staunchly electioneering to a fresh democratic. They have a wide appeal in the Home Counties and environs, and are poised to take on London and farther afield. The E.P.'s creation was as a result of touring London, writing and rehearsing for 18 months. The elective spirit and blue-collar work ethic has contributed to making 'Sandcastles' such a memorable and standard-bearing collection of songs. The tracks gleams with foot-pounds of spark, passion and emotion and the songs will root in your brain. It was with an open-mind and open arms that I brought to my inaugural listening of the complete E.P.

Sporting a catchy and open-interpretive title, 'El Genius' swaggers into a dark-lit bar, dirty, used bank notes stuffed into each hand, angrily inquiring who broke the jukebox. Its intro has an ethological mystique and swagger, dusting off its bloodied knuckles, ready for another fight. It has a Hispanic fire and temperament. The guitars stutter and punch, and spit tobacco; the atmosphere ignites and propels from the get-go and has the panache and same burbling contortion that one would find on an early Queens of the Stone Age release. Barely after breathe and semblance have been fettered, the vocal line cuts the mood like a knife. It is spirited and enunciated; a curious shade of Robert Smith lingers. The guitar and percussion propelling the vocal has a bouncy mix of The Libertines, and a beta test amalgamation of Graham Coxon, Johnny Marr, and Jimmy Page. I was impressed by seeming perpetual motion of the music on this track. The percussion faithfully keeps the beat, whilst encouraging new avenues and punk-era reminiscence; the guitars chop and change and figure out daring and unusual positions as the track progresses. It is a fervent and intoxicating blend. The theme seems to pivot around the idea of a loser and deplorable central figure, whom seems to offer nothing but derision and embarrassment. The band punctuate their summations with punch, and a smiling-nod to 'Prince Charming', to my ear: "Time is up/Time is up/Criticise your/Criticism", is an early lyrical snippet. The protagonist was seemingly "misunderstood by the masses", and "not to be one to be denied attention", the vivid storytelling paints pictures of tragic tableaux, free from Esotericism; there is a universal theme to the words: we all know someone like this! At times the guitars have a flavour of Arctic Monkeys and Bloc Party, but carry the mildest flavour notes, and never sound bogged down by the sum of its parts. As I mentioned, the music changes directions and sounds with delirious abandon, yet has a propellant urgency and disciplined structure which create an intense and enigmatic mood, and let the lyrics and vocals shine when needed. Past the 2 minute mark the track nature of the beast is candle-lit with black smoke. The vocal delivery is has a woozy syncopated quality, and is simultaneously is inspired by the preceding musical star-burst, and at the same time gets ready to tee up the next. It is another contortion in a twisting, turning, kicking, punching, and finger-pointing number, that is infectious and memorable, and at 3:01, tight and focused too. 9.4

Feedback-drenched electrics and a tempestuous, bolstering percussive thud is what opens 'Sentiment'. Soon a coordinated dalliance between electric guitar and bass comes to the fore, before the drums roll and patter manfully, teamed with electrics, to create an Omphaloskepsis and delirium-infused indie statement of intent. Again the track has a fleck of Bloc Party. But far from being a similar animal, Dead Cassette have a harder punk edge and credibility, especially to the vocals, which are a fast-paced staccato for a lot of the track. There is urgency and breathlessness throughout with such insights as "no time for commentaries" and "no time for pleasantries". Just as you are holding your spirit still to try to catch what is being sung, the tension and tightly-wound anxiety gives out to sprightly and fleet-footed musical chorusing. Again the guitar work is superb, changing moods and speeds seamlessly, and infusing the track with a tangible torrent of angst and solicitude. The entire band are tight and studied throughout, but allow a looseness to the composition, and infuse it with sparks and spots of sweat and blood, revealing subtle nuances with each ensuing listen. The vocal is forceful and full-bodied, and in spite of the breathless and machine gun delivery, it never loses its rigidity and composure, marking it out as one of the picks of the E.P. It is an impressive opening brace, and lays out the band's sound and intentions effectively and spirit-raising efficacy. Importantly the momentum never loses a step, and by track 3, you are begging for a few minutes of acoustic calm, to collect your thoughts and compose your senses. 9.2

If the opening bars of 'This Town' are anything to go by, it seems that there is no remission or time to stand still. The band mean business, and are not willing to drop pace. With might and main, the intro is snarling and equipped with gravel-fisted arpeggio and carnivorous desire. After about 15 seconds or so, there is a vague submission of rage, and the riff transmogrifies into another trademark electronic parable; complete with the same sort of inventiveness and authority of Johnny Marr. The angular fret work creates its own osmosis, and there is a power and catchiness to it, that puts a smile on your face. The tale, explains how "the kid who runs this town", will succumb to the real world, which has intentions to "spit him out". It is a foreboding and cautionary tale, and complete with oblique and daring musical backing, and stark lyrical snatches, it is another impressive track, and keeps the pace on an energetic high. 9.0

There are far-off sounding guitar echos, interplay. It begins with a brief death metal rumble, and somewhere around the 1o second mark, it transforms into a rebel-rousing, energy-infused number. The guitar sounds range from echoed struts to guttural rumblings fresh from the jaws of the Devil. By co-mingling these diverse flavours, it gives the track a unique and fresh sound, and sounds like a traditional Dead Cassette number. The vocal once more is infused with bluster and command, and has smatters of Robert Smith again. Its heart and soul seems to have a little of Libs' 'Up The Bracket', and has a similar tenement squalor to the fighting musicality and raw and uplifted vocals. It may not be as strong as 'El Genius', but will leave quite an impression in your mind. 9.1

The title-track completes the E.P.s progression. There is a rising intrigue and potency to the guitar-driven intro. It builds and kicks and dances itself silly, imploring you to get on board. The music dominates for the most part, creating its own scenes and little pockets of influence. The vocal power is present again and the messages are strong-willed, vivid and inspiring in equal measures. Samples include: "When everything comes crashing down" and "stand up if you still believe". It is an epic and fitting way to end an adventurous E.P., and leaves you wanting to hear more from these boys! 9.2

I was impressed by the band over the course of the E.P. They have a brilliant professionalism to their sound, and portray the confidence of a band 3 or 4 albums in, rather than one so young. The lyrics have an effective simplicity to them, but are mature and focused. The words do not trip over one another and there are no wasted syllables. They can get their message said quickly and workmanlike, and show a cavalier and daring spirit throughout all five tracks. The vocals have little shades of artists past, but retain a singular individuality to them, and are strong and impassioned from start to finish, never wavering or losing conviction. The band provide spectacular backing and the range of guitar and drum sounds and patterns is to be commended. The band manage to change course and projection over the course of a song, and do so with ease, in no small part because of the players. The songs were memorable and strong, and the quality rarely dipped at all. If you have not heard of Dead Cassette, and are in need of a new sound to inflame and enliven...

... then look no further than 'Sandcastles'.

Key Track: 'El Genius'.

__________________________________________________________________________________

Official:

http://www.deadcassette.co.uk/

Facebook:

http://www.facebook.com/pages/Dead-Cassette/182086851921

Twitter:

https://twitter.com/Dead_Cassette

Myspace:

http://www.myspace.com/deadcassetteband

YouTube :

http://www.youtube.com/user/deadcassettetv

Matt Corby- E.P. Review

Matt Corby

E.P. Review:

'Into the Flame'

9.3/10

Australian honey-voiced artist has overwhelming delicacy of fire and delicate amber to his voice.

Availability: 'Into the Flame' is available via: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Into-Flame-Matt-Corby/dp/B00658QIZM

___________________________________________________________________________

The solo acoustic market is difficult to master these days...

because there are so many contenders, standing along the road, hoping you'll slow down and buy their wears. There is a slew of- predominantly male- solo/acoustic 'troubadours', many of them saying the exact same thing. It is encouraging that the lure of public appreciation, and the personal satisfaction of recording music, attracts so many people to record. But there should be a modifiable quota. Unless you have an exceptional voice, insightful and thought-provoking lyrics and sound, and a like-able and vote-swinging personality, you shouldn't be allowed in. It may be a harsh ultimatum, but there, frankly, are too many musicians and artists. People with genuinely prodigious talent, are often subjugated and temporised; rallying hard but never given their due plaudits and appreciation.

Matt Corby is a curious case. For a start he is Australian. It is quite uncommon for Australian talent to be heard of to the U.K. shore. The vast majority of the music we hear, and especially new music, has its origins within our borders, or from those in the U.S. Rarely we get other forms of trans-continental wonder, but I am at a loss to remember the last time I heard a fantastic Australian solo artist. Perhaps not too strange in this day, but noteworthy, none-the-less. Matt is a mere 22-year-old, who, has already released 4 E.P.s since 2010's debut 'Song For...'. Over the last year he has been nominated for 2 awards at the Australasian Performing Rights Association Awards, as well as being labelled by many in the music press as 'The Next Big Thing'. There are not many negative things one can say about Corby. He was the runner-up of Australian Idol back in 2007, and I'd hate to thing that that has anything to do with his ensuing success. I hope not, as I genuinely loathe talent shows, who are concerned with fame and sob stories, rather than finding talent. If you appear on those shows all you want is exposure and fame. Recording music should be done honestly and out of the spotlight, and not in front of four clueless morons, who eat up every pathetic 'who gives a shit' story of tragedy you have to offer. I'll stop the rant, but safe to say my irreligious disregard is backed up by the best acts and musicians in the world. There is a lot to adore about Matt, though. He has a hardy work ethic, and as well as his ferocious output over the past 3 years, he has been touring extensively, and garnering a steady and loyal following in his native land, as well as over here and farther afield. He has quite an incredible set of pipes. I'll get it out of the way by saying that he is not, as many people have labelled him 'the next Jeff Buckley'. Buckley is one of the greatest voices in history, and is my music idol. Every man who can sing in a falsetto or has any hint of sensitive to their aesthete are lazily labelled as the king-in-waiting. Buckley may have been a modern pioneer for sensitive male songwriters, but he also had a cataclysmic range that has not been equalled since. He hated to be compared to anyone and if he were alive today, would have hated people being compared to him. He was there first, and cannot be overthrown. Corby is his own man and although not quite in the same league, he has his own spellbinding appeal. If you start being bunged in with other artists you always have to live up to that and lose your own personality. 'Into the Flame' shows a huge array of emotion and influence, but combined, shows a fresh young voice, who is eager to create his own legend.

Having attracted the most attention and listens throughout the Internet, is the E.P.'s lead-off track 'Brother'. It has been covered extensively, and has even won its author awards back in Australia, and has superseded the E.P. itself, creating its own fandom and atmosphere. The E.P. has been on sale for nearly 18 months, but has been gathering a fierce momentum, since. It is in no small parts, due to this track. It begins with a brief falsetto bird call, which heralds a delicate but punchy drum beat. The vocal pattern continues. It is a mixture of high and low chorusing, backed by steady percussion. The atmosphere then calms, to allow Corby's voice to introduce itself. It is quite a whispered and husky vocal at the beginning, having shades of Patrick Watson, as well as 'Five Leaves' Left Nick Drake. It is tremulous and breathy. The arc and interplay of the song's trajectory is quite appealing. Whilst it begins with a curious blend of whimsy and delight, and then fades to a more incentive and cultured vocal, it does not advance as you would predict. Just as you think we are settling in for a languorous and emotional ballad, the excitement and upbeat carnival of the intro steals back in. There are bits of Hayden Thorpe, circa 'Two Dancers', during the rises: a pleasing and ear-catching tenor. I know the comparisons are creeping in to my analogy, but it is hard to not hear snatches of other singers. It is, however, completely faithful and lacking imitation; they are just colours of Corby's rainbow. The trilling and ululation continues, before a gin-soaked growl enters, and a new phase is uncovered. It is impassioned and afflicted: "Somebody call out to your brother/He's calling out your name". There is an old blues sound to his voice, earthy and ravaged at times, that is an impressive counterpart to the high falsetto vocal displays throughout the tracks more rambunctious moments. When he sings: "You cower in the corner"; his voice ramps up and the Joe Cocker-esque tribal growl intensifies and hits the ceiling, as the lyrical meaning and emotion is brought into full focus. The backing piano and percussion acts as a metaphysical gut punch, and just as the tension becomes unbearable, the pressure subsides, and a calmer, more soothing vocal comes to restore order. The words are emotional and scarred: "Acknowledge you were afraid"; and yet again, before your heart and senses can relax, the guttural chorus comes back, swinging and punching, before the track ends. 'Brother' is admirable and highly memorable. Through its usage of vocal and musical sharp mood swings, it creates a tangible tension, and evocative atmosphere and has all the hallmarks of a future classic; getting the E.P. off to a terrific start.  9.5

With a blue-tinged intro, it brings to mind the music of legends Robert Johnson, B.B. King and Muddy Walters; albeit it, a more modern, electric rendition. The guitar noodles, and wiggles and dances with baby steps, creating a loose feel that also manages to hold interest and build up the track's promise and intrigue. The vocal mandate is similar to that of 'Brother': a low-pitched blues and soul confessional, punctuated by falsetto bursts, 'Souls a'Fire' is awash with nascent emotionality: "...the raging sea beats at your door". It is an assured performance, and one that will grip you. Corby's voice sways, swoons, rises and falls and will not rest. The music behind the man is unobtrusive but forceful, summoning up emotion and weight all on its own. It is the kind of track that one could imagine sound-tracking the titles to a gangster film or series. It evokes images of alleyways, dark streets, neon-lit clubs and mystery. There is a pleasingly authority to Corb'y's rock belt. He has a grit and gravel-stuffed candour and force, and can imagine he could easily tackle a grunge or heavy metal number and infuse it with authenticity and panache. Although not quite as intriguing or as strong as its younger sibling, 'Souls a'Fire' demonstrates what a strong and compelling voice Corby has. He doesn't need histrionics or to pirouettes up and down the octaves all of the time. He can hold attention just fine when he finds his own voice. 9.4

Beginning in a similar vein to that of 'Brother', the ambiguous 'Untitled', begins with coos, and angelic intent. It is the longest track of the set, but to my mind, probably the best as well. The vocal is still and heart-wrenching. The backing is simple and tender, offering appropriate support. but letting the vocal shine through. The lyrics are intelligent and sweeping: "Pride swallowed me and lead me astray", and through a series of metaphors, and striking verbal imagery, an epic and tear-tinged tableaux is presented. The vocal keeps you compelled throughout, switching as it does from a soft and shy whisper, through to a throaty bellow. The mood is never downcast or depressive, as the charm and beauty of the voice keeps it engaging and universal and compels repeated listens. In an industry where there are many emotional numbers; many saccharine and plastic soul, Corby has managed to pen a mature and heartfelt track that is restrained and passionate where it needs to be, and punctuated and enthralling when the song so requires. It to my mind is the standout cut from the E.P., and shows Corby is not a songwriter to be pigeon-holed or subject to comparison. He creates a unique and new sound that will capture you and leave you wanting more. 9.7

The final track of 'Into the Flame' begins with tinges of country as well as modern soul too. The guitar intro is happy and spirited. The vocal to 'Big Eyes' is again a softer beast. There are shades again of Watson in the verses. There is a similar sound to the vocals, but Corby is joined by Bree Tranter, of the Australian band, The Middle East. She has a gorgeous sound to her vocals. It is calming and electrifying, and provides a welcomed alternative to Corby's voice. The two vocal paths seldom cross, instead taking lines and verses between them. The song is calming and soothing but does not stick in your mind the same way as the previous tracks; but provides a great end, still, to a wonderful E.P. 8.8.

There are a lot of positive and recommendations, I can provide after listening to the E.P. I have been aware of Matt Corby for a little while, and have listened to a lot of his older work as well. He has an incredible vocal range to him, and is not confined in that sense. He has the option to do pretty much anything he wants with it, which means as a songwriter he has more options and a greater range of subject matter. He could easily nestle raw blues numbers, alongside folk numbers. It would be great to find a more upbeat rock sound for a future album. I feel he has the ability to be a terrific rock singer in the mould of Robert Plant, and will be intriguing to see whether there are going to be any harder, more effusive tracks in the near future. The songwriter is mature and studied throughout. They are not prone to cliche or nauseating-hyperbole; instead switching from striking to poetic. It is impressive from a songwriter so young. Similarly the music throughout is varied and interesting. There interesting guitar lines and switches, and the percussion and piano work throughout is especially noteworthy. The fact that Corby has not become a media puppet, and been chasing fame is commendable. He is busy working away and trying to get as many people listening to his music as possible. I know 'Into the Flame' has a lot of fans in Australia, but few people have mentioned it to me, here. I think it deserves a much wider demographic, and legion of fans, as acts and artists like this come around very seldom.

If I were to offer suggestions I would like to see a range of sonic diversity. As mentioned there is potential for huge expansion and scope, and the inclusion of strings, guitars and a harder rock sound, would increase his palette and give him exciting options as a songwriter. He has kept a fairly faithful sound for the duration of his career, but if it were to remain so for years to come, it may sound worn and trodden. He has immense talent, and would be great to hear that at work. Finally I would urge him to check out Patrick Watson, the Canadian songwriter who has gained popularity in his home land. Forget the Buckley parable, to my ear he sounds unbelievably similar to Watson at times, and although it is a terrific sound, one is enough. He has the ability to supersede his talent, so needs to stray away from sounding too much like Watson for too long. As well, there are one or two many vocal gymnastics in the early part of the E.P.; switching from falsetto to growl and back again within a few seconds. It is an impressive trick but used too often for my liking and adds no emotional reverence; it sounds a bit like showboating.

Niggles aside I cannot wait for an album from Matt Corby as I loved the E.P. and was stunned by the maturity, range of subjects and sounds within 4 tracks. If you have not heard of him, I would suggest you listen to his music now, and get on boar, because he won't be a secret for too much longer. He is a talent that...

... will burn into your soul.

Key Track: 'Untitled'

__________________________________________________________________________________

Official:

http://mattcorby.com.au/

Facebook:

http://www.facebook.com/messages/100002025887648#!/mattcorbyau

Twitter:

https://twitter.com/Matt_Corby

Myspace:

http://www.myspace.com/mattcorbyau

SoundCloud:

http://soundcloud.com/mattcorby

YouTube:

http://www.youtube.com/user/MattCorbyau

iTunes:

https://itunes.apple.com/gb/artist/matt-corby/id268919290

Last FM:

http://www.last.fm/music/Matt+Corby