Search

A Few Short Words

Open Search
Tag

album

Miranda Lambert: The Weight Of These Wings

Article originally appeared on The Music Nov 22nd 2016

Underpinning the tales of heartbreak and hope on Miranda Lambert’s sixth solo album is a lightness of instrumentation which bears the rustic weight of woe that gates the genre. Littered with anecdotal Americana, we’re delivered a full gamut of rural spiels, from the lonely gal at closing time to the long-suffering lover burning with doomed optimism. What’s really outstanding about Lambert’s latest is the complete lack of self-satire or post-ironic recognition throughout its exhaustive 24-track run, which has to say something about the credibility of the erstwhile reality TV star if not her unimpeachable drive and sincerity.

0

Highly Suspect: The Boy Who Died Wolf

Article originally appeared on The Music Nov 22nd 2016

Following on from their Grammy Award-nominated debut, Mister Asylum, the trio’s latest release covers a lot of the same ground that grunge pioneers started mapping back in the ’90s, and continues their journey into innocuous rock peppered with ample angst. It’s got a fair share of toe-tapping tunes, like the Queens Of The Stone Age-tinged Postres, but they’re often backed by lustreless elements (like a strangely joyless cover of Send Me An Angel), and the lyrics tend to swing between lamentation and absurdity. However, when they do break away from imitation, there are glimpses of something really worthwhile that might be better explored next time.

0

Mister Ott: Single Shot

Article originally appeared on 4ZZZ Nov 29th 2016

Most people are gonna have trouble picking out the distinction, but Mr Ott calls itself ethio-jazz, or is at least largely inspired by Matthew Ottignon’s travels with Dereb the Ambassador and the work of Mulatu Astatke, the ostensible father of the genre. While it shares a lot of the same cultural antecedents, it’s very much a western creature, not world music exactly, but a new world amalgamation that feels more akin to BADBADNOTGOOD’s gap year in Addis Ababa than something more traditional.

As ever in this kind of category, your enjoyment of instrumental cadent drift will power your intake of the album. Much of Single Shot has a tumbling kineticism that harkens back to  some of the finest examples of camp ’60’s cinema title sequencing. As fun as that sounds, there’s an almost ingrained futility in being able to invoke an image without putting purpose to it.

At times it’s easy to start wishing there was more variation, but that’s at odds with something that’s predicated on a melismatic structure, the extended build of minute variations riffing on a central theme. Each track does contain its own small quirks, like the almost chip tune deviations that bookend Snakebite or the percussive bedrock that lies under Dragon Majesty, but they’re each mildly obscured by their own main purpose. Even the album closer, Space Will Win, which leans into an almost odyssean preamble that seems most promisingly different, simply takes twice as long as the rest to get there.

In spite of this, or perhaps specifically because of the hypnotic recidivism in its construction, Single Shot is hugely engaging if you surrender to it. Clever, confident, and nuanced in the same way as a colour gradient moving from pink to fuchsia. You can get swept up in it, but you have to be open to the trancelike inundation of African inspired syncopation and the soft melismatic swell of musical minutiae. That or just put it on in the background while you clean the house.

0

Bleach Girls: Hi!

Article originally appeared on The Music Nov 28th 2016

Driven vocals and an air of millennial nonchalance tinged by the beach scenes of a Byron Bay upbringing, Bleach Girls’ debut EP is short, sweet, and hits you like spiked punch. With a total run of less than 10 minutes, the songs are swift and sharply pointed, all at their best when Fi Fi is leading the lyrical charge from behind her drum kit like Cherie Currie meets Kram. Exactly as the name implies, Hi! is a great place to start a conversation, hopefully we don’t have to wait too long to hear what else they have to say.

0

Polographia: Friends

Article originally appeared on The Music Nov 21st 2016

The electro-pop duo out of Sydney sell themselves on an ideal of bittersweet nostalgia. They very nearly skewered themselves with the motif, since the idea itself conjures better times you’ve already had, but there’s not really anything to compare them to except a low rpm club scene or the fifth-beer haze of day drinking. If little else, its selection of surreptitious beats and guest samples will get you swaying, but the EP is definitely at its most interesting when it features its friends, with Hurricane in particular offering the most divergent moments in an otherwise vaguely soporific fifteen minutes.

0

Man & The Echo: Man & The Echo

Article originally appeared on The Music Nov 11th 2016

Man & The Echo’s debut has a certain ‘dinner and a show’ vibrancy to it, the swinging rhythms of buffet cabaret and the storied threads of a Dusty Springfield type somewhere on the road to Vegas punditry.

It’s a skittishly retro sound that eats off a dozen plates, blue-eyed soul buried under bites of disco, country-seasoned crooning and a suitable Britpop base, with songs that take their truths as much from cultural mythology and literary illusion as they do from elderly care and suburban despair. Many of these tales are extrapolated from frontman Gareth ‘Gaz’ Roberts’ own experiences, the years spent working for welfare rights or the dead-eyed pub patrons staring back at him at night. At times it can brush awfully close to self parody, but there’s an unalloyed sincerity in Roberts’ delivery that buoys the benefit of the doubt, enough to warrant following through on the homespun narrative threads that tie the inspirations to their tracks, and though the rhythms and themes have their own ebb and flow, the energy of the album never wavers.

The UK four-piece present even the most absurd portions of their material with a wholly committed zeal that unifies the album and speaks to their easy cohesion as a group. Even if the mix of elements may seem disparate at first, the end result is something familiar yet wholly idiosyncratic. It’s not new or daring necessarily, but is nevertheless completely fresh. As a first course, Man & The Echo is boldly genuine and compellingly flavoursome.

0

The Bamboos: Fever in the Road

Coming down from the rollicking furore of their Medicine Man tour, The Bamboos latest release is more of a low key affair, sombre, sultry and sometimes a little sinister.

While it still maintains the funky baselines, husky horns and a stable of genre perfect rhythms that popularised their music, Fever in the Road has a certain sadness sewn throughout its tracks, a strange despairing vibrancy which marks a thematic departure for the band, both intriguing and disconcerting.

Beginning the trip with Avenger, a ghostly and synthetic piece, Fever chicanes early through highs and lows, settling finally on a tone of almost accusational despondency by the time Looking West ushers in the end of the album. That’s not to say this is depressing fare, it’s simply so much subtler than those that have come before it.

At times fragile and others raucously firm, the leapfrogging vocals of Kylie Auldist and Ella Thompson have a resounding buoyancy even in their most laconic depths, a trick that weaves a perfect point-counterpoint balance for the duration of the album. As always the ensemble casts a flawless backdrop for the two girls to ply their trade.

Founding father Lance Ferguson leads the band through a rock solid collection of riffs and motifs, chords that strike at the heart of nostalgia while keeping their eye firmly on the future. There are moments that ache to be part of the era they emulate, tracks such as Leave Nothing Behind that easily evoke thoughts of the 60’s staples which no doubt inspired them, but it’s in the merging of the modern that Fever’s depth shows through.

The aural canvas laid here is deceptively layered, with moments of psychedelic digression nestled alongside the rousingly anthemic, dap dabbling piano complemented by cowbell and haunting hints of synthesiser tied with natural flair to more organic guitar progressions. nothing feels out of place here and the journey as a whole feels delightfully and purposefully plotted.

For those expecting a rehash of past Bamboos albums you may be disappointed, but for the wiling, Fever in the Road is a soothing departure from the funk laden zealotry that has been the band’s pedigree. Certainly, this is the dark side soul, but it’s by no means a downer.

0

Warpaint: Heads Up

Article originally appeared on The Music Sep 21st 2016

The third album from the LA group, Heads Up is less of a warning than a statement of confidence, charismatic and full of delicate conviction. There are some moments that’ll make you wonder if they’ve exchanged their ponderous electro-folk for something altogether fizzier, but thankfully the band’s indulgence in lengthier tracks means each song has time to play its ideas right to the end. Each fully embraces its own motifs, a trait that sets the album as a string of insular pieces that still tell a whole story, like abandoned pearls on a hotel dresser.

0

Freya Josephine Hollick: The Unceremonious Junking Of Me

Article originally appeared on The Music Nov 8th 2016

At first pass, the Melbourne-based country practitioner’s new album feels purpose-built for nostalgia, shaped by the bones of bygone artists and couched in a rustic delivery, but Hollick ultimately follows her own reflective journey. Sprawling and simple, Hollick’s tales shine above the sparsity of instrumentation. The decision to capture the tracks live in Ballarat’s Main Bar brings a raw sense of place to the album and highlights the vital intimacy of the vocals. Darkly saccharine, painful and poignant, The Unceremonious Junking Of Me is a rich and textured release that reshapes the landscape of country to suit itself.

0

Tash Sultana: Notion

Article originally appeared on The Music Sep 30th 2016 

Tash Sultana’s Notion is so fully formed that it’s hard to think of it as an EP. Actually, it runs longer than most full-length albums and doesn’t even get winded. Full of lean and layered instrumentation that loops with a silken-psychedelic lilt, vocals that flit from ephemeral drift to beatboxing brash and a core of chords tied tight to a toe-tapping ideal, it’s an immensely impressive outing made even more so by the fact that it’s coming from a single source. Without a doubt, this is a notion worth exploring.

0

Thigh Master: Early Times

Article originally appeared on The Music Oct 4th 2016 

After a pair of tantalising EPs and a smattering of singles, Early Times feels a little overdue but strangely immediate. While it teeters on the fringes of shoegaze and dolewave, like an old tourist commercial for Queensland as directed by the disillusioned and destitute, it is at its best exploring rocky terrain. The vocals are slightly more washed than a pair of boyfriend jeans and often operate like an underlying beat rather than an accompaniment, leaving the guitars to take the narrative lead. But what shines through is surprisingly canny, intimately droll, and some of the most quintessentially Brisbane sounds on offer.

0

Pleasure Symbols: Pleasure Symbols

Article originally appeared on The Music Aug 29th 2016

This Brisbane doom-gaze duo has been brewing in the shadows for a while now, cultivating a Californian neon sound perfect for standing around while Nicolas Winding Refn throws stones at a moonlit lake. Their debut EP is a sparsely constructed-yet-dank and almost cloying thing, mixing precisely programmed beats, wistful synth and vocals that feel like they haunt the halls an ’80s high school. For fans of the group, it’s a pity that two of the four tracks on offer have been lingering online for year or so, but overall it’s still a great, gloomy 17 minutes.

0

King Of The North: Get Out Of Your World

Article originally appeared on The Music Aug 4th 2016

King Of The North nail the classic American rock sound, thick with guitar and formidable presence, which is impressive for an Aussie duo. There’s something a bit off-kilter old-school about it, like Bon Jovi thrashing Shihad riffs at a political rally for The Tea Party. There’s also a bit of a demanding choral theme that nags the front of the album as we’re told to, “Get out,” “Rise up,” “Light it up,” and “Ride like you’re free,” in the space of so many songs. It leans a bit towards motivational hair metal, but there’s real sincerity buried beneath it. Also, that three-from-one guitar sound is a wall worth leaning on.

0

Faith No More: Sol Invictus

How many years has it been? Almost a decade between drinks. Eight years since their Album of the Year. It would be easy to list all the things the new Faith No More release is like; there are hints of Peeping Tom, shades of Tomahawk, a dab of Fantomas, and even a little latter days Bungle. But every example boils down to the same substance, Mike Patton. Sol Invictus is exactly the same, and yet it’s more, it’s a Patton who listens, one who shares, a star that leads by letting his band shine around him. Simmered but not reduced, it’s easily the most well behaved of all FNM albums.

That’s not to say Sol Invictus is tame, and it’s certainly not a problem of old age as there’s not a single twinge of the rheumatic apathy that hovers over some late life bands, rather, there’s a feeling of understanding that permeates the album. It seems like any problems the band had with each other in the past have since been smoothed over. The whetstone friction that honed their previous releases may be absent, but the results are just as sharp, exhibiting a craftsmanship that only comes with time and dedication.

While previewing some of the new songs at recent live shows, the band played with the same fierce passion contained in all their material, delivering their choice of singles with frenetic and immediate energy. The studio cuts of these songs, however, feel almost restrained in comparison. It’s the difference in tone between saying I hate you through clenched teeth and yelling it at someone’s face.

Though the album is missing some of that live furiosity, it draws as much of its strength from what it’s not as it does from who it is. In that way, it’s oddly reflective and even exhibits a certain level of patience, almost a controlled temper. Here, the immediacy of their live performances doesn’t actually acknowledge the heart of the album. Sol Invictus is a seething thing, measured and quietly vicious in its intent. Somehow, in its own subdued way, it articulates itself better than its screaming front man ever could.

Plenty of the tracks are still rife with rage. Superhero, Separation Anxiety, Cone of Shame, there are plenty of moments all throughout that are plenty angry in their own right. Though Faith No More have had their fair share of mellow over the years, the feeling this time is just a little bit softer overall. There doesn’t seem to be a rough edge left to rub between them. Throw some rocks in a tumbler for thirty years, though, and see what happens.

Sol Invictus is softer, yes, but only because it feels refined, white sugar not raw. Though definitely not saccharine, its easily as addictive, equally delicious and was certainly worth the wait.

0

Serious Beak: Ankaa

Serious Beak, the djentlemen of progressive math metal, live at the intersection of discord and rhyme. Their latest album Ankaa contains so many moments that weren’t written by other bands, it’s occasionally easy to get confused in the crush and anticipate something that’s never coming, a little Tool maybe or some Battles. It’s like a slalom run that skirts the flags of influence while carving it’s own path through the powder.

It’s going to get billed somewhere as Prog, but strangely, that might be limiting, even if there is a progressive cohesion and sensibility in the way that the tracks interlock and toy with each other’s threads. It’s also entirely possible the whole thing is a joke, with every track sub branded by an ornithological taxonomy that hints at not only each song’s inner themes, but towards the entire species of the album. This is what would happen if a zoologist wrote his thesis with metal.

That kind of concept could make a 4 track release like this into a frivolous aside, but the implementation is so precise and tarrishly invasive, it doesn’t matter. There isn’t any space for that kind of thinking, no restful moments of reflection at even the sparsest of junctures.

Proto (Menura novaehollandiae) builds a frenetic and intensely measured beginning out of a bed of static before laying it down on a crystalline refrain, one of the myriad themes the album involves itself with. Main Sequence (Dacelo novaeguineae) picks it up again and plays with its gentle beginnings before growing into an adult version of video game dungeon music and degenerating into a world where the Joker’s death scene from Burton’s Batman was reenacted by kookaburras.

Red (Laniocera hypopyrra) starts out with a feint shaped like an average rock song but it’s not long before some sharp rhythmic equations are being threaded through the reverb. It’s definitely the climax track and bears the most melodic weight of the lot. Of course, it still finds the time to take a couple of detours through that crystal valley, handling these downhill transitions with upwards velocity.

Heat Death (Teratornithidae) is the coda that ties it all together, a drifting summary illustrated in singularly drawn chords. While it’s the most downbeat of all the tracks it still contains some piercingly djentle moments and plays like a cool down for the criminally insane.

So yeah, Ankaa is a weird ride. It’s discordant prog themed around birds, an ethereal grind with razor timing, a familiar sound like nothing else, and quite possibly a pointless experiment that’s definitely worth consideration.

0

Create a website or blog at WordPress.com

Up ↑