You are taking the piss, right? V-Twin, noted for their immensely affable indie shoddiness, have decided that now is a time to go, yes, rock. Possibly its garage rock. That impression would be garnered based on the 'let it all hang out' production, and the breakneck speed that the fir»
This Manchester ensemble's demo was described tentatively as Jazz Rock, a genre combination some may be wary of, but one which if approached well can lead to interesting results. For an early demo it shows promise but the direction seems a little unclear - I feel it tries to be too many things within the»
5 Tracks? Over 74 minutes of music? That’ll be Godspeed You! Black Emperor then. (Note the stifling name change from Godspeed You Black Emperor! To Godspeed You! Bla… notice the change? Like musical spot the difference isn’t it? Revolution in an exclamation mark). It almost goes without saying: thi»
Having surreptitiously infected the airwaves with their previous album 'KY', Lemon Jelly return with an album that is at once more advanced than their debut, while retaining all that was good about it. Namely the mischievous sense of humour and uniquely British playfulness which the ba»
Primal Screams last album, 'Evil Heat' was a muddled and largely mediocre
mess of ideas. At least in whatever addled state they were in, they saw sense
in releasing this track as a single.
A laid back, eerie groove accompanies an understated syncopated drumbeat, which, coupled with Bobby »
Dark. Isn’t it?
Like a heavy, grey, wet blanket, winter has enveloped everything on this storm-lashed, sodden sod of earth of a country. Autumn doesn’t even get a look in anymore, no time for that, just bring on the rainclouds.
Yeah, bring ‘em on, we think.
It’s dark, we think. It’s cold and wet, we t»
It ain't rocket science. The Polyphonic Spree approach to songwriting is exemplified in 'What We Will Be', the first of these three live recordings - and no, don't make that face; this isn't the kind of grubby fuzzy four-piece live recording generally slopped onto B-sides to placate the hordes, it's the metho»
...in which a pair of Mancunian men go bleep. From a distance one might be tempted to think in terms of Soft Cell. Canny sheen of technophilia, dark Northern men, synths and insecurities, not to mention the title... you'd be forgiven for assuming this was another offshoot of the eighties - cough - 'futurism' »
Here’s a few keywords for the Alabama 3. Swagger. Funk. Blues. Country. Western. Techno. Acid. Elvis. God. Cocaine. Trotsky. Gangsters. Genius. Sounds like my kind of world. A world where they don’t play anything as prosaic as a ‘gig’. They’re called Sermons. And they don’t go on ‘tour»
The third track taken from Idlewild's official "breakthrough" album, Live In A Hiding Place brings more of the same atmosphere established by it's predecessor, American English. A reflective, largely acoustic, strum with a similarly towering chorus. It's nice in a not objectional dayt»
The Threads are three guys from London with a easy going pop rock sound and an eye on the charts. Armed with some kind of electronic harmoniser for their three part vocals the effect is less impressive than a "natural" version but it gives the whole cd a certain kind of future-retro feel. The re»
On first listen I scribbled down "parts really sound like an English Pearl Jam" on a scrap of paper, and low and behold said band were namechecked on the press release. Another note I jotted down was "rather too earnest". That wasn't on the press release but Stereophonics was, w»
So it all ended in tears of blood and broken dreams? Of course. But it mattered. It caused change. It was a life affirming feeling for degeneration. Kurt Cobain was a hero amongst losers. An icon defied by his own iconoclasm. And now we are witness to the milking of the cash cow, the extorting of a once belliger»
"I let somebody get under my skin, long distance losing is all that I’ve seen." When you’ve fallen down and bashed your knee on the cold concrete of the outside world, you sometimes need to go home, sit on a comfy chair (if you have a cat you need to hear it purr and stroke its soft fur), and you ne»
The departure from their very own label, Chemikal Underground, the arrival of a new producer, (the burgeoning legend that is) Dave Fridmann, a new outlook and an old sound, developed, made new again. It's very much a case of beginnings and ends for the Scottish quartet, and this album is the documen»
I like Little Hell.
They're just so much FUN. Thrashy, fire-siren guitars and raging chipmunk
vox. Drumkits in need of counselling after each song. Songs that are essentially
catchy 3 minute pop tunes, but unshaven, on a 7-day bender and fucked hard against
a carpark wall.
"It's my sick decomposition", spits opening track 'A Grave To Go To' through an early-Oasis/Primal Scream guitar haze. All muffled attitude and sniffly nose underneath rolling eyes. Ok, so this album gets straight to the point, you think, the dancers take their tops off and you»
This is a 14-track collection of the first four Cinerama singles, from October 1999 to January 2001, the album sleeve tells me. First time, it's basically Pulp, only not half as good. Try again a few hours later, maybe mood will change. Same thing happens. Try hungover the next day, maybe »
Inspiration for the unadulterated. Rock anomalies covered equally in pop sweetness and Slayer t-shirts. And when you cease to amaze yourself, you start to amaze others, Funeral for a Friend are that awkward feeling you get when you know you should share your last breath but instead keep it for yourself. Zealots »