A Place To Bury Strangers - Live: 13th Nov 2009

You really have to hand it to Jukebox, they consistently manage to book some stunning bands you wouldn’t get an opportunity to see anywhere else and A Place To Bury Strangers are certainly no exception.
 
With the Brooklyn, NYC band’s recently released second album ‘Exploding Head’ (out on Mute records now) still very much box fresh and confidently swaggering all over the blandness of record industry ‘Best of..’ pre-Christmas releases The Other Rooms is swamped in a heady concoction of lacerating guitar and intoxicating beats as they tear through a set list bursting with intrigue and imagination.
 
The unassuming greatness of their self-titled debut album  - a collection of chaotic demos and EP recordings with brilliant songs like ‘To Fix The Gash In Your Head’ and ‘She Dies’ evoke the JAMC wall of sound and undulating Cure bass lines which brought wider renown and the deserved moniker ‘loudest band’ you’re likely to see. So it’s with unbridled anticipation that I’m here waiting to be literally blown away – late on Friday 13th (appropriately enough) when, sad to admit, I’d usually be tucked up under a duvet welcoming the land of nod.
 
It’s all in the delivery and jeez do they deliver? The scene stealing tonight definitely comes from ‘In Your Heart’, ‘Deadbeat’ and ‘Ego Death, all from the latest album but it’s genuinely impossible to isolate a few songs though from what is the most pulsating, squealing, invigorating performance Newcastle is likely to witness for a long time to come.

www.myspace.com/aplacetoburystrangers
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Mark Eitzel - Klamath

This has been a long time coming. There have been numerous collaborations and asides since his first solo album 60 Watt Silver Lining back in 1996, released after 15 years with American Music Club, but the naked, stripped back Mark Eitzel in reflective mood is the rarest of beasts, seen as frequently as Haley’s Comet these days.

It could be argued that this is a back to basics approach, an album recorded simply, at Eitzel’s own pace and featuring all sorts of small musical embellishments the subtly of which will in all likelihood not be reproduced when he tours the album in the coming months but this isn’t a criticism by any means. However, as quietly delivered as Klamath is, and it is a very respectfully and modestly whispered album, I do miss the angrier Mark Eitzel. The one with passion, with spit on his lips and a series of great axes to grind.

There was more life in that incarnation than the restrained cipher present here. I’m not simply clamouring angst for angst’s sake, at it’s heart Klamath seems to be in a happier place, most of the traditional vitriol and (self)loathing long banished into the past and I know that wishing pain on someone for the sake of their art is dumb and ultimately selfish it’s just that as a result Eitzel’s pain free music sounds slight and incomplete in comparision to his own extensive back catalogue.

It may say more about me than Eitzel that the lighter touches and lack of savage threat in these songs feels like a lack of confidence or substance. Perhaps without the stuff to rail against it’s harder to say anything with great meaning? Or maybe it’s unfair to even want that. Hey, we’re not getting any younger least of all Eitzel who turned fifty this year so maybe time has smoothed the rougher edges or perhaps a change is as good as a rest in recharging for any future releases dealing with ‘issues’. He’s always been a difficult read and a contrary songwriter capable of delivering beautiful hate at times, aimed at himself as much as others. So maybe now is a time to reflect.

The sparse feel of Klamath does hark back to certain points in the musicians own songwriting history with early American Music Club and the folkier influences of Nick Drake and John Martyn. As an exercise in late night acoustic stillness it’s exemplary. Wistful tones and social mores refracted back to the listener through his succinct lyricism and part confessional, part conspiratorial singing style.

Whilst Eitzel’s emotions are kept in check throughout the album it’s far from a toothless effort it’s just that rather than appear too judgmental there’s an aspect of seeing both sides of the story. Showcasing his songwriting maturity to hopefully a wider, newer audience than might otherwise be the case. It’s something he’s deserved for years, personally I hope it doesn’t make him too happy because I’m sure there still more life in him yet.

http://markeitzel.blogspot.com
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Times New Viking - Born Again Revisited

Delivered with characteristic klang and echoed distortion, Born Again Revisited sees tri-cornered Columbus pop constructivists Times New Viking notch up their fourth studiously lo-fidelity album in as many years.
 
Without a care for the convention of production values and (let’s be honest) rather stupidly delivering the album as a master tape on VHS, it’s a difficult juggling act to hold the core of their songs in your head whilst the maddening frisson of scrapes and reverb whirl hectically in the background. On the plus side most tracks are kept to around two minute mark in case your patience begins to ebb.
 
Essentially this is another installment of clever-dumb noisy rock ‘n’ roll tunes passing by so quickly you shouldn’t care about titles but ‘No Time, No Hope’ and ‘Martin Luther King Day’ manage to stick their head above the clamour long enough for particular attention.
 
Despite the DIY, arch-art they scatter over their musical output it’s a real surprise to find on repeated listens the familiar ghosts of early Pavement and Guided By Voices emitting from the tinny sound and before long the ennui turns to vigour as TNV's obvious sense of joy grips you as infectiously as swine flu.

www.myspace.com/timesnewviking
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Yim Yames - Tribute To

These collected half dozen songs seem an incongruous release right now. Particularly as Yim Yames (aka Jim James lead singer with My Morning Jacket) recorded them in the wake of George Harrison’ death in 2001. As the title suggests they are a ‘tribute to’ the ‘quiet’ Beatle, but why wait eight years?

James’ was obviously keen to mourn Harrison’s loss and celebrate his influence and as far as this goes it’s a fine EP. The sparse fragility and beauty of James’ keening vocal is supreme and at times the delivery is truly haunting. It’s a simple set up – one man and one guitar (occasional overdubs) in truly minimal, back to basics versions of familiar songs like ‘My Sweet Lord’ and ‘All Things Must Pass’ and the perhaps lesser known ones like ‘Behind That Locked Door’.

Knowing that this was recorded around the same time as My Morning Jacket’s ‘At Dawn’ – a band peak – lends an added frisson, but whilst this EP sees the light of day in aid of charity and it’s a cathartic set of songs I’m left with a desire to listen to James’ in full band mode, singing his own compositions.

www.yimyames.com
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We Were Promised Jetpacks - These Four Walls

Standing square on to their contemporaries 'These Four Walls' is nothing less than We Were Promised Jetpacks statement of intent and no little threat, if not of physical harm (and that’s debatable) then certainly of musical superiority.

Beginning with the never-more-appropriately titled "It's Thunder and It's Lightning" WWPJ kick proceedings off with a brooding tension which builds to anthemic status effortlessly and sets the tone for the album to unfold/unravel before you in barely contained intense recollection, schizophrenic fantasy and passionate honesty.

Throughout 'These Four Walls' the songs display a euphoric purpose and if you’ve ever wished Sigur Ros had more balls and daydreamed less then you’ll hit the jackpot here. Best of all worlds.

Selecting a few songs for isolated praise seems moot but the aforementioned lead track is a thrilling opener and ‘Conductor’, a plea to be a distinct voice heard above the masses is equally glorious. ‘This Is My House, This Is My Home’ displays a brief moment of reflective levity in an otherwise pacy rush to disquiet the listener whilst upcoming single ‘Quiet Little Voices’ mixes the powerful and tuneful to brilliant effect.

To be played at battle volume. Obviously.

www.myspace.com/wewerepromisedjetpacks
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Wolf Am I - Lead The Way

The initial burst of ‘We’re Alive, We Are The Future’ bodes we’ll for this debut featuring former ‘Kill The Arcade’ members but throughout there’s a nagging feeling of familiarity. It takes a few minutes, and couple more tracks, to put the pieces together.

There’s an obvious debt to bands such as Panic at The Disco (ground zero is ‘A Fever You Can’t Sweat Out’). Emotional soul-baring is littered with bands like these and many, many more – My Chemical Romance, Thursday, The Get Up Kids, Fall Out Boy, Paramore, At The Drive In etc. – so you’re obviously going to land slap bang in the middle of this (SCREA)EMO mix.

That’s not a problem if there’s enough to distinguish you from the crowd. It takes the wry lyrical dexterity of PATD or the anti-emo, pop-punk, goth vamp cool of MCR to rise above the vast sea of angst-lite bands out there and Wolf Am I are at least searching for their niche, the reflective ‘Armageddon, Come’ or triumphant ‘Lex Talionis’ being the best examples. So whist it’s not nearly enough to sustain an album at a gig you’d still go batshit crazy whatever they play, if that’s your skeleton print bag.

www.myspace.com/wolfami
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Patrick Wolf - The Bachelor

What’s the time Mr Wolf? Time for your most revealing album yet? Time to disconnect from the self-inflicted madness of your own concocted ‘pop star’ dreamworld.

Patrick Wolf has always seemed too difficult to classify as he’s such a contradictory beast and the concept of The Bachelor and it’s companion The Conqueror – planned for release next year, rather than the double album as planned – is essentially ‘moving on’. Putting ‘things’ – an unedifyingly euphemistic term covering everything from relationships, desire, depression and ‘self’ behind him…erm, so what were his three previous album dealing with then?

I’ve never been one for cathartic, soul searching artistes bemoaning the woe-is-me world they live in – besides the very fact that such albums are such an elaborate construct of cherry picked idealogy and candour that they will never be the whole truth and hey, may not even be any of the truth at all. Maybe the intent at honesty and sharing is enough, not for me though.

There's no question that Patrick Wolf the romantic is at the forefront on The Bachelor but this time around he is perhaps more resigned than previously to life’s realities and disappointments, just like the rest of us.

www.patrickwolf.com
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The Longcut - Open Hearts

‘You can’t say we didn’t warn you, you should have listened when you could.’ The opening salvo’s of Stuart Ogilvie’s vocal howl ring out over crunching guitars and make as clear a statement of The Loncut’s shift in musical focus as possible.

Since their debut ‘A Call and Response’ this move has been coming, via Eps, singles and major label trouble, the trio now find themselves with a sophomore album worthy of their considerable talents. Co-produced with David Jones of Nine Black Alps ‘Open Hearts’ mixes the melodic with a cacophony of overwrought noise and beats which is stunning at times.

They’re leaner, keener and lyrically happier. Gone is the downbeat world view which prevailed before preferring instead to find faith in the music itself. The mood is lighter, more enthusiastic and unafraid to proclaim it out loud, very much like their live shows

Whilst the whole album is a revelation but it’s standout song ‘Evil Dance’ who’s dirty bass still grabs your attention and has you thrusting on the dancefloor in no time. This song should be on every DJs playlist and if not you can kill them for their idiocy.

‘I thought that I was lost, that I was scared as Hell. I’m happy I was wrong’. We’re very happy too.

www.thelongcut.com
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Vessels - Live: 8th Apr 2009

Gazing at the stage I appear to be looking directly into Vessels studio set up. They’ve got everything up to the kitchen sink, plugged in, amped up, locked in and eager to go. The density of the quintet’s songs would appear to warrant such a diversity of instruments and personnel.
 
My only previous exposure to Vessels comes in the form of their single Yuki, a sublime, shimmering evocation of melancholy so the intensity and outright ferocity in tonight’s set comes as a slight surprise. Still underpinned by glorious melody but with brutal beats and lacerating guitars songs like‘ An Idle Brain and The Devil’s Workshop’ and‘The Beast’ threaten to overpower, skirt the edges with their intent to spill into chaos, but there’s far more to Vessels than winding noise into an extreme apex or trilling complex figure on the fretboad, kind of like a far less shouty Liars chilling out more.
 
I suppose there may be a cause to label Vessels with the‘math-rock’ tag somewhere along the line but whilst this can apply one minute the managed to wriggle free and become something else, something unique which is no small feat. Fans of the usual (mostly) instrumental-rock suspects will undoubtedly love Vessels with a passion and for anyone seeking something fresh in a genre often easily aped will be blown away.

www.myspace.com/vesselsband
www.mekongdelta.co.uk

Wildbirds & Peacedrums - The Snake

As Andreas Werlin’s pagan drum beats rain down relentlessly and the deep vocals of Mariam Wallentin ululate in primitive, tribal sympathy the listener is transported beyond musical genres, not merely jazz influenced, or avant/experimental either, yet this still feels like it’s coming from as spiritual or earthy a place as previous material.
 
Hearing ‘The Snake’ flattens things out a bit, makes the world appear a simpler place, the intuitive interplay at the heart of Wildbirds & Peacedrums follow up to their debut album ‘Heartcore’ deconstructs the ecstatic energy of their first release and adds additional percussive melody into the mix - piano, marimba and xylophone all get a look in this time around.
 
There’s much more going on this time around, aurally speaking, even occasional concessions to structure that lead a song like ‘My Heart’ into the realms of folk-pop, but fear not there are still more than enough primal eruptions and rhythmic virtuosity to keep the duo bedded firmly in the ‘specialist’ category for the time being. Still, as niche as it may be perceived ‘The Snake’ resonates with unerring heart and soul and burns with a bewitching vitality from it’s core.
 
www.myspace.com/wildbirdsandpeacedrums
www.mekongdelta.co.uk

Papercuts - You Can Have What You Want

Swirling with a DNA comprised of opiated Francois Hardy French pop mixed with Cocteau Twins and This Mortal Coil, ‘You Can Have What You Want’ is a swoon-some offering from Jason Quever – the ubiquitous androgynous vocal and multi-instrumentalist who is Papercuts – along with a few guest musicians.
 
There’s a warm analogue feel to the slightly anachronistic sounding songs which could well have been lifted from any Cocteau directed or Alain Delon starring arthouse movie. Indeed Jet Plane’s languid brushed beats and dense carousel sound conjures up the very image of Marianne Faithful in her motorcycle leathers, ubiquitous cigarette curling white smoke to the heavens.
 
There’s a definite and deliberate 60’s feel all round and it’s not clear whether this is an attempt to re-create or evoke the period, not that it particularly matters as there’s obviously a deep fascination and love at work here which strives to duplicate it meticulously. As an exercise in nostalgia it can’t be faulted but you do feel there was more to wring out of these songs and perhaps that’s why it feels slightly lacking at times, like the soul is ousted at the expense of creating an authentic sounding record.


www.mekongdelta.co.uk

Lights.Action - Welcome to the New Cold World

Kicking of with the stately ‘Moscow’ a quick scan of some of the song titles  ‘I Woke Up In the Civil War’, ‘Signals To Radar’,  ‘The Bottom of The Sea’ and the album title for that matter, you may well spot a thematic conceit and you’d be partially right. This debut from London’s Lights Action is about conflict but mostly as metaphor for interpersonal spats, hollow victory and exhausted defeat.
 
Easily able to summon up an epic chorus with ‘Travellin’ Man’ or produce a subtler moment of reflection in ‘I Woke Up In the Civil War’, the band lead you through a bewildering array of lyrical tales.
 
‘Signals To Radar’ is an undoubted single with its soaring expression of love destined forever to miss its mark. Mention must go to singer Patrick Currier’s extraordinary voice which is gargantuan rock one minute, whispered confessional the next and always pitched with a melodic lilt. But this isn’t a one man show, the music which drives these songs is as visceral and tender as any vocal and every song is densely packed.
 
Did I say densely packed? Understatement. Everything but the kitchen sink is in the mix – but it never sounds like overkill - an Antony Hegarty-style vocal from ‘Black Feathers’, R.E.M. melody and insouciance ‘Until The Day I Die’, the irregular percussive stutters of Bloc Party throughout. Each fresh listen throws up a new favourite song and shows a band in complete control.


www.myspace.com/lightsactionband
www.mekongdelta.co.uk

The Decemberists - The Hazards of Love

Long, long ago in a galaxy far, far away I fell in love with The Decemberists.
 
The charm and wit of their anachronistic tales are as compelling a lesson in historical entertainment as any film. Their songs drip with villainy, buxom wenches and fevered deception but speak just as much about modern guilt and confusion.
 
Five full albums into a career which seems to have scandalously passed the majority by until 2006’s ‘The Crane Wife’ comes this 17 song suite ‘The Hazards of Love’, by far their most accomplished release. Too easily and too long dismissed as Arcade Fire knock offs, The Decemberists have a sustained body of work which is arguably better than their Canadian contemporaries.
 
Here, bursting with rockier moments and following familiar lyrical territory without sounding formulaic, the band present the story of Margaret, ravaged by her lover – a shape shifting animal – through various character arcs and songwriter/vocalist Colin Meloy’s narrative, counterpointed by guest contributions from Becky Stark (Lavender Diamond), Shara Worden (My Brightest Diamond) and Jim James (My Morning Jacket).
 
When it’s usually easy to isolate a track or two from most albums ‘The Hazards of Love’ defies convention, demanding you listen from start to finish and be amply rewarded for doing so. That said, ‘The Wanting Comes in Waves/Repaid’ – a brilliant melding of folk and blistering metal - is a standout piece as is the piquant pop and foppery of ‘The Rakes Song’.
 
A perfect album. So where do they go from here?


www.decemberists.com
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