2000's 'Felt Mountain' established Goldfrapp as one of the most uncategorisable and intriguing collectives around, a soaring and ethereal collection of songs that showcased Alison Goldfrapp's remarkable and schizophrenic opera diva/throaty Nina Simone-esque vocals. But its success in part did co»
Komakino, so I’ve discovered, have a bit of a pretty-boy reputation around Derby; all mullety hair cuts and skinny-fit t-shirts with a front man who any Colour Of Fire groupie would be dangerous around. Certainly, they look the part, but hair cuts do not a band make, so it was a pleasant surprise to find »
Having tried to 'live' with this album since its release, the fact of the matter remains - 'Elephant' is not a great album. Shock! Its sprawling 14 tracks rarely cover new ground from the previous three long-playing efforts. The riffs feel repetitive and on occasions the songs ape older tunes - »
The Chap’s new album ‘The Horse’ is a superb investigative journey. Embracing diversity and individuality with open arms, transporting it instantly to that hierarchical pedestal of ‘beyond category’. Their combinations of noise, electronics and imagination are enlightening and incomparable. Opening»
“Isn’t it good to be alive?” Damn right it is. Get your Judas Priest-style hand gestures at the ready and prepare to sway them aloft in a suitably demonic gesture. ‘Your Demon Heart’ will take control of your erm... demon heart, I guess... and cause you involuntarily to say things like ‘rock on’ (and othe»
EEEEEEEEEEEEUUUUUUCCCCCCHHH! What the fucking fuckity fuck fuck is this? The Young Lions are Scandinavian. They have weird names like Soppa, Pinola, Aki and... Frank! They look all New York trendy and have big plucky plucky guitary bits. This should be cool, but the lead singe»
Okay, don’t get your raincoat and dirty scowl out just yet. Eighties Echo & The Bunnymen made mad epic tunes of lip-curling swagger. In some parallel universe, U2’s songs of faith and flag-waving would have been usurped by Big Mac’s stadium-sized ego and the Liverpudlians would now be sitting astride the Albert »
These guys come recommended by Hondo Maclean. Who were, in turn, recommended by Funeral for a Friend. Welsh incest strikes again. But is it just love for those close to you taken a step to far, peering through rose-tinted sunglasses, or is this a genuine tip toward another great thing? Hmmm. It’»
Instruction.(that's Instruction-period), made up of three-quarters of the criminally ignored Errortype:11 plus the ex-guitarist of Quicksand, are a band of ideals, a band with something to say, and that's something that's all too rare in bands these days. Thank fuck for Instruction. Ne»
“You’re never gonna see me standing still
I’m never gonna stop ‘till I get my fill
It’s what you do that takes you far...
I’m not afraid to say I hear a different beat
Over and over, I get up again. Over and over... “
~ ‘Over and Over’, 1984. You know that smell you get when you dr»
You can see why Jarvis Cocker has released this three-track under the Relaxed Muscle moniker; there's hardly a Pulp fan in existence who'd go anywhere near this mad-eyed collection of sleazy electro filth. Which is probably the whole point in the exercise. Jarvis' day job was clearly s»
We want icons and we want some now!
Thou must not mention she looks like Shakira mixed with a bitta Aguilera.
Thou shall not be swayed by the cover art - s'all headflicks and eyeliner. And
the back is even worse: strappy panties, seedy black'n'white-tography.
Looks ain't everything yuhknow, nor »
It was bound to happen. It seems that finally the tide is turning against those in distressed denim and connoisseurs of the swiped MC5 riff, and we are about to be swallowed up in a giant ground swelling of melody. At the announcement of another unfeasibly handsome five piece from Sweden releasing a record,»
The Bluetones = The Alan Partridge of Indie Maybe it was just an adolescent fad: what we all did when we turned fourteen and realised that careers as professional football players didn’t beckon. That music was more fun. When we realised that beer didn’t taste that bad after all. When sports brand»
Oh goody. An EP. That means I get to tell you about four songs instead of just one, which gives me more chance of padding this review out to a decent length. Or it would if I had a single thing to say about any of them. Of Arrowe Hill are pleasant enough as prog-flavoured indie background noise. 'I Are Becomi»
‘Things Fall Apart’ shows more of the mellow side of Serafin, with crystal clear arpeggios kicking off a melodic slow burner. Whilst it's not as instantly catchy or abrasive as previous ep title tracks, it's light and summery, and adds some depth and colour to the Serafin back catalogue. And that's in no »
Bridge and Tunnel sound like the should-have-been soundtrack to every movie that's ever sent shivers down your spine. 'The Great Outdoors' recalls mid-western heroes in broken shoes travelling lonely US highways, with birds of prey silhouetted against sunset horizons. It's a patchwork of dark alleyways»
A five piece from Bolton, Neon Sounds present a canny mix of Ben Folds piano and scratchy garage guitars. Lead track, 'Forbidden Fruit', comes across like something from a lo-fi musical. Dramatic hammering piano chords rise and dive as the vocals waver above. The guitar sounds ill, so trebly if »
The debut EP from Liverpudlian songwriter Steven Kennedy is a multilayered aural experience that should propel this talented young performer into the highest strata when his debut album, ‘Control Freak’ finally hits the streets. Featuring full band workouts of three album tracks, this is a release t»
New Jersey's The Early November are sooooooo =emO=. But, like all good emo bands, they probably won't admit to it. At least, that's the impression given by this, their debut album. Admittedly, things do start promisingly. 'Every Night's Another Story' is an all-out alt-rock show»
Is this a joke? Accompanying the album, 'Hope's press release pleads that it is "not political", presumably because if it was anti-war or had something approaching an opinion, the Bush/Blair-loving, oil-guzzling, blood-baying right-wing wankers that read/write for The Sun wouldn't buy it. So instead, they make t»
Sam Beam is a cheat. As his half hung-over voice wraps itself around album closer 'Muddy Hymnal', guitars slide and strum and waltz with all the wounded beauty of a classic Deep South country-fried folk record. So just as you've got him sussed as some strange bearded loner who calls his songs things like »
Nick Drake, Jeff Buckley.. How many deaths will it take 'til people wake up?
There's a DCV (deadly comprehension virus) going around that's robbing us of genius. We only worship, respect and want to look after these prophets when they're long gone. Y'see, or rather you don’t see, these people who understan»