Birthday.




Thanks Pete!

(You can catch up on parts 1 and 2 here and here.)

Labels: Betty And The Werewolves, birthday, comics

SINGLES APOCALYPSE: Part # whatever

I’m really sorry about the recent lack of posting. A few weeks of non-stop drinking, carousing and musicing have taken their toll on my regular, boredom-based writing schedule.

Any attempt to keep reviewing new singles in alphabetical order is completely out of the window by now I’m afraid, but here are a couple I wrote before the deluge, and more random grabs from the pile around the hi-fi, and other top notch ‘content’ will hopefully be with you shortly…


LA Vampires & Zola Jesus –
LA Vampires Meets Zola Jesus 12”
(Not Not Fun)

Consciously modelled on one of those classic “so-and-so meets so-and-so” dub platters from the ‘70s, what we essentially have here is the sound of two spooky, stoned 21st century rich girls making a kinda temporally disconnected, neon-midnight stab at a dub record.

I don’t mean that to sound dismissive; after long years in which the thoughts and doings of spooky, stoned rich girls in the USA were nowt but a cruel mystery to me, I feel happy and privileged to live in a world where awesome things like this can exist and filter their way into culture so casually.

LA Vampires is ex-Pocahaunted (and seriously, who’d have guessed THEY’D prove such a rich jumping off point for inspired side/successor projects when they were busy making lmtd-to-50 tapes full of garbled guff for Byron Coley to drool on a few years back?); Zola Jesus you already know, I hope.

The former does the stabbing synth-bass riffs, sliced up ‘80s electro rhythm tracks and cosmic horror echo webs here, while the latter gets to hear some of her distinctive vocal melodies and operatic reveries stretched and laced up across the music, left to float alone in distant wells of mega-delay. Songs are present, and they are cool, but structure swiftly fades in favour of, well, y’know… dubbing it up. Imagine if, god… I don’t know; imagine if Scientist had done a score to ‘The Hunger’ or something. Sounds good? Hop in!

LA and Zola’s reinvention of Dawn Penn’s “No No No” is playing right now, and it’s as sweet and terrifying as you’d expect. You don’t love me, yes I know now (creeping up, knife in teeth.)

It’s easy to wax lyrical on a record like this, but let’s put it plainly – these ladies are so fucking talented they’re making GOTH-DUB sound like a brilliant idea. Think on that for a minute, and then pay whatever Rough Trade are asking for a copy of this.

http://www.myspace.com/zolajesus
http://www.last.fm/music/LA+Vampires
http://www.notnotfun.com/now.html

Pens –
You Only Like Me When I Tell You I’m Wrong
(DeStijl)

I haven’t managed to see Pens play as often as I probably shoulda done, given that I live in the same city as them, so whilst it was probably old news by the time I saw them play a Ladyfest do in Goldsmiths cafeteria earlier this year, I was still astonished by the progress they’ve made as a band.

In both sound and appearance, they seem to have undergone an almost total transformation from the Pens who recorded their supremely obnoxious noise-bomb of an LP last year, the one I saw few times way back when, filling shithole venues with their cheap, sickening fuzz and fuck-you amateur stomp. Don’t get me wrong, I loved that band, but Pens Mk.2 are soundin’ real convincin’ too - still not following the rules, still doing what comes naturally, but with greater experience leading away from chaos toward a land of pummelling, bass-heavy rhythm shit and alternate world musicality, inevitably touching upon the same Raincoats-birthed femme-rock trajectory as contemporaries like Trash Kit, Wet Dog, Grass Widow et al. Full of GREAT new material (they old played one or two numbers off the album), their set went down a storm with friends of mine whom I’d imagine woulda spit feathers if confronted by the old Pens. Particularly noteworthy was an absolutely astounding closing song, which conveniently turns up here, entitled “You Only Like Me When I Tell You I’m Wrong”.

Though still comfortably grounded in the home-recorded clatter of yore, this is probably the best composition Pens have put on record to date, as violin-toned keyboard sounds scrape out the riff and exuberant, cymbal heavy drumming hold down the centre against relatively restrained guitar fuzz as the girls harmonise their way through the title-repeating chorus in just the most… brilliant fashion. A great song, plain and simple, and “Love Rules” on the B is no slouch either, mixing a Grass Widow-ish surf guitar line with thrumming bass feedback and a desperately foreboding descending melody line… I know it’s an unspeakable cliche to go around comparing every vaguely idiosyncratic female group to The Raincoats, but the influence of their first album hangs heavy over these tunes in the best possible way – rough-hewn, self-created, furious, awkward fun. Fairytale in the Old Blue Last, anyone?

http://www.myspace.com/penspenspenis
http://destijlrecs.com/

Labels: LA Vampires, Pens, singles reviews, Zola Jesus

SINGLES APOCALYPSE: Part # 2:
Comet Gain Special.

Comet Gain – I Never Happened EP
(What’s Yr Rupture?)

Comet Gain, what are you and why do we need you so? Hopeless, self-mythologisin’ faux-beatniks floundering around in the ruins of British indie culture? Self-pity ridden mod fools cursing the skies that they weren’t born in ’46, in a movie? The angriest bunch of record collectors who ever tried to persuade you they lead exciting lives? The Mekons with better dress sense? The greatest band in the world in the minds of the 400 or so people with precisely the right cultural background to take it all in? Whatever they are (never mind the ‘who’, that’s just disappointing), they’re a fortress in my head that’s not going away any time soon. If they weren’t there, I’d have had to invent them.

So listen: I’ve been going out of my way recently to avoid the chest-beating, self-pitying yak that often predominated in my tastes of yore, but fuck it, I got my troubles, and Comet Gain make self pity sound so sweet – witness the title track here, lining itself up for premier position on next decade’s equivalent of their recent singles/rarities comp. “ I never happened / you never occurred to me / I never spoke elegantly / I never walked through the door”, gasps David Feck over some quietly livid two chord shuffle. “I never happened / sure, but it happened once / I was laughed at by all those cunts / I never wanted to know”. Fucker’s just playing straight into the hands of us aging sad boys again, isn’t he? And don’t we just dig it.

Indeed, this four tracker on WYR? (something of a palette cleanser for their forthcoming Edwyn Collins produced comeback record?) finds the band closer than ever to the spirit of their beloved Television Personalities – by which I mean, captivating and frustrating in equal measure. Nil recording details or customary Feck blather here, just a fold-out tissue paper sleeve, track names stamped on white labels, and the magnificent (to some of us, in some moods) opening cut bulked up to EP status with the addition of two excruciating drunken jam sessions, an on-air apology and a number called “Love Vigilantes”, where Feck fits new lyrics about a soldier coming home to his family to the tune of “It’s Gone Before We Open Our Eyes”. It starts off kinda earnest, but he seems to have given in to parody by the closing verses. And why not, eh?

A noble mess then, probably pretty much par for the course for Comet Gain circa 2010, but it’ll still be nectar to those of us who inadvertently learned to whistle every guitar line on all their old albums years ago.

http://www.myspace.com/thecometgain
http://www.whatsyourrupture.com/

Comet Gain/Hello Cuca split 7”
(Doble Vida)

By way of contrast, Feck’s team show up two men down for their side of this single (Rachel and Jon Slade both AWOL), and knock it outta the park with just about the most furious track they’ve laid down since “City Fallen Leaves”. Nothing new here I guess, just another stumbling-out-of-the-club-shaking-fists-at-the-sky tale of blown chances and wild eyes and growling regrets. But they sound more ragged and garagey than ever as a fuzz heavy four piece busting out punk-ass 1/2/1/2 verse rhymes, and “Weekend Dreams” could easily have fitted into the flow of aforementioned album’s hallowed first side. No small boast. The defiance is intact. Kick ass solo too, David! I know you put the effort into these things really, dude.

I have fond memories of seeing Spain’s Hello Cuca absolutely tear it up at Ladyfest London at the Garage back in… ooh, 2002 I believe… taking the majority of attendees by surprise with a virtuoso display of high energy surf-rock. Now needless to say, if there’s one thing we at Stereo Sanctity can always get behind, it’s a good bit of Riot Grrl-affiliated Iberian surf-rock, and Hello Cuca’s knock at our doors is always likely to be a welcome sound, whether literally or figuratively.

In the intervening years, the trio have developed their sound admirably, ploughing their tight interpersonal dynamics and killer chops into a more vocal-heavy, art-punk direction that we hear the fruits of here, where Hello Cuca sound furious, spiky and inspired, somewhat akin to a bouncier, tropicalia-influenced Sleater Kinney, or to a more rocking number from fellow Comet Gain buddies Love Is All. Lyrics are in Spanish, which is as it should be, so I don’t know what they’re on about, but it all sounds terrific. Long-standing heroes of a scattered international community who take the Kill Rock Stars back catalogue as their god, Hello Cuca is now and forever a good time.

All in all, a beautifully presented, kick ass 7” here from new Barcelona-based label Doble Vita, who are doing good stuff and deserve your support. You might still be able to pick up a copy from Rough Trade if yr in the UK, otherwise speak to the label – they’re very friendly.

http://www.myspace.com/thecometgain
http://www.myspace.com/rompepistas
www.doblevidadiscos.com

Labels: Comet Gain, Hello Cuca, singles reviews

Teenage Fanclub – Shadows (PeMa)

Ok, so I haven’t exactly been hammering the ol' jangly, easy-going indie-folky power-pop stuff of recent.

In fact if anyone asks, I’ve been listening exclusively to Black Flag, Saint Vitus, Ramones, Alternative TV, Psyched To Die, Les Rallizes Denudes, girl group compilations, The Misfits, assorted old punk shit and early Napalm Death.

But I can’t keep a secret from you readers, and the truth is, this new Teenage Fanclub album is just too plain LOADED WITH TUNES to ignore.

I may have skipped over their past few records, perhaps unfairly, but the songs from “Shadows” that have been creeping into my head via BBC6’s playlist as I do the washing up have stood out as wondrous compositions, full of warm, happy sounds; a veritable embarrassment of sweet, guitary riches.

From Norman Blake’s blinding, Rolling Stones and Go-Betweens referencin’ stadium rocker “When I Still Have Thee”, to “Baby Lee”, like a Big Star acoustic number all grown up without the angst, to the grand slow-burn of Raymond McGinley’s “The Fall” (for the first few minutes you’ll think it’s shit, but if you’re still not digging it by the post-guitar solo choruses, you’re probably a bad person), the whole record has the air of a triumphant, late-period classic from a band a lot of people would have preferred to see condemned to the arena of fading boring-ness years ago.

Naysayers would have it that Teenage Fanclub are doomed to never rise above the level of mere ‘niceness’. ‘Niceness’ of course being the ultimate anathema to all you intense artist cats out there who thrive on the howling furies of humanity pushed to new, blood-curdling extremes, or failing that, The XX.

But c’mon, fuck that. I’m nice. My flat is nice. Friends are nice. The weather in the spring is nice. Breakfast in nice. And as they roll on through contented middle age, Teenage Fanclub have become INTENSELY NICE, so powerfully nice it’s almost frightening. They may have called their album “Shadows”, but I’m not sure why, as I find few dark patches within the words and music of these thoroughly contented fellows.

I know I often put forward the notion that good music always has to be fighting against something, but… I dunno, somehow Teenage Fanclub seem to get a free pass from me on that one. Somehow the exultant spirit with which they seem to be welcoming us into their happy place in these songs overcomes all. Theirs is a fiery niceness that sits far distant from any notion of mediocrity, and only a chump would confuse the two.

I’d post up mp3s of all of the above-mentioned songs, but I don’t wanna be busted giving away all the highlights of a medium-indie label new release, y’know, so I’ll stick to one. I’m sure you can go and spotify them or last.fm them or whatever the hell you kids do these days. And then you can buy this album. On CD, even! Like I did! Because that’s how nice I am.

I suppose that probably works out at, like, 80p a song or thereabouts, which seems like an incredible bargain, all things considered. It makes me feel like I just got a really good deal on a pile of rustic, hand-stitched blankets or something. Such comfort, and they’ll last for years!

Mp3> When I Still Have Thee

Wow, am I hearing it right when he sings "Well the stars still shine, and the museum's free"..? Seriously guys: SONG OF THE YEAR.

Labels: album reviews, Teenage Fanclub, WOW BIG STAR COMPARISONS

Plug.



Don't suppose I have any readers in the Cambridge area (as far as I know), but thought I'd stick this up just because it's by far the best poster that's ever been done for a gig I've been involved in, and it's a real thrill to playing with Betty & The Werewolves twice during July.

Proper new posts coming literally, like, tomorrow, by the way.

Labels: Betty And The Werewolves, posters, self promotion

Genres are Silly.

I enjoyed reading Marceline Smith’s post about the iTunes genre box over at Diskant today, and it reminded me that I’d been meaning to do a similar post on genre-related silliness a while back.

I download a lot of mp3s, and borrow/auto-recognise/create a lot more, and looking at my list of genres always gives me a chuckle.

I typed *very few* of these in myself I should add. That would just take the fun out of it, wouldn’t it?

“Girls” is my favourite genre, I think, although “Strut” and “Terror” are also quite pleasing.

Labels: genres, lameness, nerds, spacefiller