Iron & Wine - Kiss Each Other Clean

Upon a first casual listen of Kiss Each Other Clean, fourth full-length record from Sam Beam – the mastermind behind Iron & Wine, Beam’s claims that it was inspired by memories of radio tunes from the 60s and 70s are immediately justified.
The record’s mellow first track, ‘Walking Far From Home’, opens with the sounds of air traffic which, along with later xylophones, create the perfect distancing backdrop to a Homeric catalogue of observations.
His use of instrumentation throughout is inspired. Edgy and restless ‘Monkeys Uptown’ is greatly enhanced by the synthesised space-age jazz-funk (it works, I promise you) that runs through it. The Spanish guitar in ‘Godless Brother In Love’ drops its notes into the song in such a honeyed fashion that it sounds almost harplike.
Yet nowhere does this cunning use of instruments surface more than in ‘Rabbit Will Run’, a pacey track, lyrics filled with the concept of the natural instinct to run and of individual approaches to escape. The music mirrors this with bizarre, birdlike whistling, distorted guitar and, above all, something remarkably close to the Lion King soundtrack running throughout.
Although certain songs do indeed resemble the airwave-friendly pop of bygone decades, Beam’s ability to paint pictures with words adds layers to the work, with intriguing lines such as “When the arrogant goddess of love came to steal my shoes...” leading into the twisting narrative of vivid mini-stories. Often a sinister tone underpins seemingly breezy tracks, such as ‘Tree By The River’ where teenage nostalgia is juxtaposed with grotesque images of teeth and bones.
Religious references, another expected feature in Beam’s work, are also present in this new LP, with the persistence of prayer and its forms as a minor feature in ‘Rabbit Will Run’. ‘Me And Lazarus’, religious references in its very title, sounds almost like a gospel song with its groovy rhythm and use of saxophone.
The one slight disappointment is closer ‘Your Fake Name Is Good Enough For Me’, which starts off as a thrilling, rapid, and energised piece, driven by a brass band and squeakily distorted electric guitar. Yet it, like the first track, is a catalogue, this time of contrasting pairs such as “the sinner and the saint” and “the glory and the guilt”, which drags on interminably until fading under a musical cacophony.
Nevertheless, from its intricate narratives right the way through to the Quentin Blake-esque peacocks littered on the album artwork this album is a weird and wonderful delight.

Funeral Party - Golden Age of Knowhere

Hearing the gritty, angst-filled debut album from Funeral Party, you would never guess that it sprang to life not far from the glamorous celebrity world of Los Angeles. Unlike their glitzy neighbours, the people of Whittier were faced with a listless, dull existence, and countered it with a backyard party movement, spawning a new age of bands who provided live music. Thus the Golden Age of Knowhere was born.
The frustration and overpowering desire to stand out is tangible, with intense, shouty vocals dominating the record. Hit track ‘New York City Moves To The Sound Of LA’, which got the band noticed, opens up the record with throbbing bass, clanging percussion and distorted electric guitar, building to Chad Elliott, backed by a chanting choir, hollering ‘New York City loves to mess around with the LA sound’. This is tipped to be an indie dance hit on this side of the pond.
The stand out track, however, has to be ‘Car Wars’. True to its name, the song starts and finishes with sci-fi beeps and echoing synths, sandwiching an anthemic rock proclamation about escapism. All the while the space music prevails in the background.
The promising start sadly dwindles as the album progresses. In the penultimate track (of this 12-track LP!) Elliott finally alters his vocal tone, bringing a huge sense of relief to the listener. ‘Relics and Ruins’ is a raw piece with the gentler vocals creating a true sense of loss, although the aah-ing treads dangerously close to indie-pop territory.
The music, too, can be a little on the generic side, with ‘Postcards of Persuasion’ fading into forgettable buzz. The final song, title-track ‘Golden Age of Nowhere’ is a typical indie rock move, with atmospheric bird and nature sounds forming an intro, although the brilliantly insistent drum beat and oddly effective sporadic statements of ‘Here We Are’ as the music fades save the song.
The lowest point has to be ‘Giant Song’, where an exciting, thumping intro and verse – resembling indie dance anthems by the likes of The Cribs – is betrayed by a dismal chorus of narcissistic wailing over what could potentially have been a powerful, stomping rant.
Nevertheless, rousing lines such as “We are the voices under the tracks, drawing you forward, pushing you back” in ‘Finale’ stick with you; and intelligent song concepts like that of ‘Just Because’ as he progresses from being trapped towards liberation give this album notable highlights, and shows that this band has promise.

Tallest Man On Earth - Sometimes The Blues Is Just A Passing Bird

Five-track EP Sometimes The Blues Is Just a Passing Bird is the fourth instalment from Tallest Man On Earth, stage-name of conventionally-proportioned Swede Kristian Matsson. Drawing on inspiration from touring 2010 full-length album “The Wild Hunt” he is determined that this should be seen as a separate work in and of itself. Although the initial impression is of a bare-bones corpus, the sheer honesty and earnest tone of the lyrics invite a great intimacy with this singer-songwriter. Lines such as ‘Why am I not strong like the wheel that will carry you home?’ in Like The Wheel are compelling in the genuine feeling being expressed. The connection audiences felt with this song is evident from its viral spread after gigs. Self-reflecting The Dreamer is intensified by the blues-style minimalistic electric guitar in its single appearance on the EP. Although Matsson’s highly unusual and edgy vocals take a little getting used to, you quickly come to appreciate its exceptional quality.

Scissor Sisters - Night Work

I'm having difficulty starting this review, as I don't feel I can do it justice. This is the kind of album you search high and low for, one that you must compulsively hear from beginning to end. Every song is a high point. Even the couple I wasn't sure about to begin with have now become essential listening for me.
The third record from the Scissor Sisters is raunchier and grittier than their previous outings. Jake Shears has embraced the atmosphere of the Berlin nightlife with reckless abandonment, and, combining it with the band's pre-established explicit nature and striking sense of fun, has produced fantastic songs like Any Which Way - complete with backing vocals from Kylie Minogue, Running Out - a thumping song that reels you in, and the ironically catchy Something Like This, which describes a longing to listen to a particular song but an inability to remember the lyrics. The overvoice by Ian McKellen on the final track, Invisible Light, sees him in Gandalf-mode, adding tremendous power to the monologue of "Babylon, Where bricks of water and diamonds tower, Sailor's lust and swagger lazing in the moon's beams, Who's laser gaze penetrates this sparkling theater of excess and strobed lights, Painted Whores. Sexual Gladiators. Fiercely old Party Children..."
I'm even on the "Hells yeah it's GREAT!" side of the pro-/anti-Fire With Fire debate. Mum's fiercely against it, and claims that it's dull. Having heard it at Glastonbury first means that I can picture the audience swelling as the song swells, and I can hear Jake's voice echoing out over a packed stadium.
Overall, a mindblowing record, and it's great to see them stronger than ever.

Eliza Doolittle

After the outstanding support slot I saw Eliza Doolittle perform for Alphabeat in April, I confess I was a little worried that her studio album wouldn't live up to my high expectations, a fear that was increased by the very girly cover art. I had nothing to fear, this debut record is fantastic and has been the soundtrack of my summer.
The playful and colourful nature of the songs is charming, and demonstrate her theatre background clearly (she's the granddaughter of Sylvia Young), with the creation of scenarios and playing with the terminology such as in Police Car.
Both Missing and Pack Up involve excellent use of sampling from 60s and 40s tracks, showing an understanding of music that puts Professor Green's attempts to shame. Elsewhere economy-run themed Moneybox has hints of Kate Nash at her best, and A Smokey Room looks on shallow, consumerist lifestyles with sceptical eyebrow and mocking tone. On a sunny day, laidback and meditative So High truly transcends.

Some Album Reviews

I have three in my backlog (and lots of new albums I want to review!). They date back a bit but oh well!

The Dead Weather - Sea Of Cowards
The second album from The Dead Weather, Jack White’s second Other Band, in just 10 months is a different beast altogether from their debut. Although White’s blues influences are ever-present, the White Stripes feel of Horehound is out, Sea of Cowards is experimental rock in a league of its own. Delicious electric guitar-driven chills, edgy lyrics and haunting chants by Kills’ singer Alison Mosshart transport you into an eerie world of White’s own creation.
****

Jack Johnson - To The Sea
The sixth instalment from Jack Johnson mercifully shows some break from the norm. After 5 albums of surf-style crooning over acoustic guitar, Johnson has finally discovered its electric sister instrument. In You And Your Heart, we find him riffing out a harsher intro than we’ve encountered before, and the verses even reveal a little rock-star posturing, although the chorus, and much of the album, is cut from the original mould.
***

The Drums - The Drums
In places strongly reminiscent of early New Order, in others featuring traces of the Beach Boys, New Yorkers The Drums’ first album reverts to old-style indie. Although the chirpy, whistle-strewn Let’s Go Surfing tempts the listener to assume them to be beach-pop, elsewhere, in It Will All End In Tears, there is real anguish. Nevertheless the whiny and less-than-outstanding vocals by Jonathan Pierce have the tendency to grate in places.
****

~*~ Glastonbury 2010 ~ Sunday 27th June ~*~

It was the last day of Glastonbury, and I had yet to wear the cape I made specially for the weekend, thinking that it would fulfil the two functions of looking fun and keeping me warm. The entire weekend was sizzlingly hot, without a cloud in the sky. So on Sunday I decided that I would risk being cooked and wore my cape for the first time. This was an Awesome Plan, as I have discovered that you are never alone in a colourful cape. Especially with multicoloured feathers around the collar. The world likes to come up and tell you that you are wearing an Awesome Cape and that this is Awesome and "Wow did you MAKE it?! You are Awesome." Teehee.

As tradition and necessity demanded, we went to the Tiny Tea Tent, where, although teabags and hot water are available anywhere, you get the BEST tea, for tea out of a mug is infinitely superior to tea out of a cardboard cup. Trust. The tiffin was also fantastic. This year the brownie oven was shaped like a pig (last year's was a pregnant ogre-lady = "Newly Born Brownies"). He had very impressive tusks for a mud creature.

Between tea and *Paloma Faith*, the others, lazy beggars, all went and lay down by the sacred circle, so I wandered around the Green Fields and Kids Area, which had a pirate ship with a PURPLE COW on the mast. This was genius. Should I ever captain my own vessel, I too shall have a brightly coloured creature leading me across the ocean. A magenta hedgehog perhaps, or a turquoise duck-billed platypus.

Paloma Faith was fabfabfab. Although her set started early, which meant that we heard tantalising strains of Stone Cold Sober drift out towards us as we sped towards the Pyramid Stage. I'd been worried that her very individual voice wouldn't come across as well in a live setting as in the studio, but these fears were unnecessary. The notes that came out of her (HUGE) mouth were clear and beautiful. Her costume was very imaginative too - clad in a white, jewel-encrusted catsuit, two enormous white balloons hung above her shoulders. She had to maneouvre these every time she wanted to walk across the stage in the other direction, but as an ex-magician's assistant I'm sure she's done worse. She put on a real show. I wasn't sure about the rock 'n' roll version of Do You Want The Truth Or Something Beautiful?, but it sounded good despite the oddity.

As there wasn't anything particular I wished to see before Keane, I headed over to get a good spot in the tent. There was a really good folk trio on two acts before - Adrian Edmonson and The Bad Shepherds, whose rendition of Once In A Lifetime was a definite stand-out. This is when I made a momentous discovery. I saw bagpipes being played on stage, and wasn't clutching my ears to block out the heinous sound. Upon questioning my neighbour, I was informed that these were electric bagpipes. WHY isn't EVERYONE playing these? Why do they subject us to the original instrument when the same thing, electrified, produces such a lovely noise? They should be imposed by law.

Teddy Thompson, who played at the Warchild gig Keane hosted back in 2007, was also very good, although very hard on himself: "Why are you all here?" "To see you!" "Fools. Right, let's get this over with quickly." And, later on: "This is from my new record, it's just made-up stuff." But his voice is very clear and moving, the songs, despite his self-deprecation, were great, with a very effective singalong and a particularly pragmatic love song. Unfortunately for him, a Mr Tom Chaplin made an appearance at the back of the stage to watch the show, drawing the gaze of the entire front row, who were undeniably there for the next act.

And for ONCE I was one of them! Eighth time lucky, I was front row. Madness. But their performance was absolutely fantastic. It was a simple accoustic set, beautifully relaxed. You Don't See Me soared, Spiralling and Stop For A Minute were as bouncy and fun as ever, and even an unplugged version of Is It Any Wonder? had me jumping (although, I'll admit, it doesn't take much). The use of guitar in Bedshaped, the closer, was interesting but worked. And I love that it's still the last song - take THAT strange anti-Bedshaped Keane fans! :P We noticed that yet again they missed out the most controversial lyrics in Clear Skies, which they used to do with Perfect Symmetry (they clearly felt that 'spineless dreamers hide in churches' was a little bold for them) so I wonder if these lyrics will start featuring any time soon.

I was disappointed by Jack Johnson. Many people rave about his live performance. For me, he failed to graduate beyond easygoing background music. Leah and I sat on a rug scoffing toffee yoghurt, and felt zero compulsion to stand up and watch.

MGMT were yet another disappointment. I think Keane may have spoilt me with the passion they put into their live show, but with these guys it felt like there was no passion at all. Everything was played technically well, but it was all wooden. The singing was very quiet as well. Of course, the accoustics of the Other Stage are particularly bad, but good bands overcome this, and MGMT did not. What little they did say was less than inspiring: "We love this festival because it's great." "It's an honour to play to a million gajillion people." Wow.

Now STEVIE on the other hand was beyond mindblowing. Live, his music is one big party, and I could not stop dancing. Admittedly the American cheese speeches still featured - "relationshit" and various magic stories. I stood through a whole episode of him pretending to drink a goblet of potion that would restore his youth with the thought: 'This HAS to lead into I Wish' tiding me through. It didn't. I felt betrayed!! The band were very tight - a bunch of extremely talented musicians in their own right, and his voice is as crystal clear and powerful as you could imagine.

He came on with a keytar, and did a bit of rockstar posturing, including on the floor, which was initially impressive but a little worrying as he struggled to get up again - maybe a bit over-ambitious for a sixty year old. Sir Duke and Superstition were both wonderful, but I would say that Masterblaster was my favourite of the evening, with its irresistible summery groove. He closed with Happy Birthday, dragging an embarassed Michael Eavis to the front of the stage and getting him to sing along to celebrate Glastonbury's 40 years.

A brilliant end to a brilliant festival. Bring on next year!