STAR SLINGER - TAKE THIS UP

Star Slinger has released another hot beat called 'Take This Up', a disjointed bevvy of little highly strung beats in a vein similar to his first digital-only LP Volume 1, except with a more mainstream dance feel than Volume 1's quasi-spaced out charms. Download it free below.

(I say 'another'. They don't come nearly often enough!)

LOCKAH - THE SOUR DRINK FROM THE OCEAN

I was recently perusing Pitchfork’s new tracks section and stumbled upon something I have been listening to non-stop since last week: ‘The Sour Drink From The Ocean’ by an up and coming Aberdeen-based producer called Lockah. So much am I enjoying this song in fact (and repeatedly playing it at work), that I sought it out on my phone via the Soundcloud app just so I could finally unlock its potential for travelling listening on the way to and from work. Yes, I can spot potential for a joyous strutting stomper a mile off.

He just signed to the Mad Decent imprint, Jeffree’s, to release an EP. This has an aweeesome title. Wait for it…..When U Stop Feeling Like A Weirdo & Become A Threat. If that isn’t a bad-ass title for a record, I don’t know what is.

Anyway, check this guy out. Reminiscent of the tight sampling (any idea of the sample?) yet soulful result of Star Slinger, I think this pulsing oblivion of sound signposts Lockah as an interesting new talent. 'The Sour Drink From The Ocean' has already had 20,000 hits on Soundcloud in less than two weeks and was featured on BBC Introducing in Scotland on Ally McCrae's Radio 1 show tonight. 

Philco Fiction- Take It Personal

We join Philco Fiction at their international germination but over eight years into their career. The Norwegian trio (website) are warming us with ballads, but not ordinary ones. Stomachs do flips and journo brains get a bit sweaty. Take It Personal (stream it here) is a neon gas heater of sound, driving down artificial, impersonal warmth onto your head.

This is a very unusual record. Philco rush from Florence & The Machine esque soaring pop ballad to electro anthem, to orchestra-led avant garde experimentation. Throughout, The Knife’s off-kilter unpredictable bombast runs through the tracks. First there's the confident but dispassionate female vocal like Karin Dreijer Andersson and then there's the unnerving changes of atmosphere between sideways pop splashes (like The Knife's Deep Cuts), dark twists (like Silent Shout) and orchestras (like Tomorrow, In a Year). The confusing undertones of sophomore and potential breakthrough Take it Personal are endless.

Take It Personal won’t so much hit you, as lower you gently into a cauldron of bubbling stew. The introduction, ‘Help!’, uses dark, rumbling bass reminiscent of Fever Ray before breaking into a soaring electro anthem of safer pop chart climbs. Even then, Turid Alida Solberg’s voice belies the song's familiarity, keeping it tethered to a dark undercurrent. Slowly, Philco's air of definiteness comes apart. ‘The Youth’ opens with creepy synths and the soundtrack to a child tiptoeing in fairy-tale haunted woods. Violins, cellos (?) and whirring gadgetry in the bridge show that this record might indeed be one odd mother. Streaks of ‘One For You’ or ‘Rock Classics’ from Deep Cuts break out as ‘The City’ confirms our expectations: Gloomy, uncertain, dark…congratulations- you are into Philco Fiction's mad mad world.

The band navigate genres and styles like a croupier shuffling cards. From ‘Finally’ onwards, they let rip and open up into a plethora of directions that even the most able reviewer would find daunting. 'Finally' opens with XX-like guitars that join broad strokes of gentle piano chords part-way through. Into six minute number ‘Too Nice’, and the slow-burning sound starts to get asphyxiating; warped, almost, as it progresses. The section comes to a head with ‘I Want You’, an edgy track that pulsates with non sequitur lyrics a la that Swedish duo (once again):

"My intentions are no longer good. My intentions aren't acting like they should. I never decide what to eat. I never lose my sleep."

It builds to a gloriously melodic soulful climax, twirling to victory.

Now for the most surprising part. Seconds after the layered, triumphant climax, a delicate folk number eases into ear-shot. Pizzicato violins? Joanna Newsom? Almost. With Turid's soothing, swooning elegance, this particularly stunning juxtaposition of songs finally blows out. Snaking its path, calming you down, 'Too Close' ably steers you out of madness, towards sobriety and into the next section. The diversity on this album, but particularly, these four middle tracks, is amazing. Each one is boldly sonically independent. They stare you down with such confident directness that even on repeated listens you forget what you’ve just heard once the next track's begun. Take It Personal demands it. It demands all your focus. 'Take It Personal' is very apt indeed.

The final three tracks are no less unusual. ‘Horizon’, the most upbeat number on the album preens with sparkle. It's easy to see why lady vocalist led electro acts have had such blog exposure this year: with double-track recording, Turid's voice comes out in a way that I don't think a male vocalist's could.

Take It Personal is one of my favourite records of 2011 so far, and one of the most unclassifiable, deep, stunning albums broadly fitting within the parameters of popular alternative music I’ve ever heard. There isn’t a duffer, and even towards the end when you finally think you've consolidated the swathes of sonic territory there are to contend with, 80s pop inspired ‘Time is a Fly’ comes in and smashes the little picket-fence you think you've built to house it. If someone could tell me from where Philco Fiction draw their inspiration apart from ‘everywhere’ I would be interested to hear it. The way music can be in the self-referential, post-modern internet world is an incredible thing. And it’s not for the first time that I love it. Philco Fiction, I hope, will become one of the world's most popular new alternative bands.

Out Now on Brilliance Records (label here).

Philco Fiction - Finally by Brilliance Records


Philco Fiction - Help! by Brilliance Records

Someone Still Loves You Boris Yeltsin- Tape Club

Someone Still Loves You Boris Yeltsin- Tape Club

(2011, Polyvinyl Records)

For when there’s a lull with nothing to post about, I’ve kept this back in reserve. One of my favourite bands of the last 10 years who create music that occasionally hits me like a truck (‘House Fire’, ‘Some Constellation’) or takes a while to sink in (most of Broom), but always succeeds in wriggling inside my brain-box and building a nest for itself: Someone Still Loves You Boris Yeltsin. I wrote about them earlier (see here) and as you may know, they were an "of the moment" band on US-based indie blogs around 2005 when recording Broom, their first album. This was a home-recorded, extremely lo-fi record and had very little to say for itself in the way of production, but stood out promisingly for its tunes. An internet following was born.

Since Polyvinyl picked Broom up and released it, the commercial fortunes of Someone Still Loves You Boris Yeltsin- or SSLYBY for short, arguably waned slightly according to speculation from loyal adherents. Thankfully though, their music and passion didn’t. Two diverse, lively and enjoyable records followed in 2008 and 2010, Pershing and Let it Sway respectively, filled with shamelessly catchy pop tunes. Broom, re-released for Record Store Day in April this year with some new tracks- that first home-recorded record, now sits atop a small number of dreamy indie kids’ post-2000 lists as a cult pop classic. I give mine a listen quite regularly, and often wonder what in those loosely formed arrangements and hushed vocals keeps me coming back. But it does. And regularly.

Their honeyed sound and image isn't for everyone. However, if you’re a fan of good music without pretence; a follower of healthy tunes over fashion, SSLYBY are one of the best bands to draw into your listening arsenal. Cavorting with my ears through train journeys, helping while away 40 minutes in town or sound-tracking an evening with friends before heading out, SSLYBY can be taken anywhere (and will take you anywhere) with their infinite lightness.

I turn to the reason for this post: Tape Club, a 26-song compendium of b-sides that SSLYBY will release in October. How impossible to imagine that a band as lo-fi as SSLYBY would even have b-sides. How much more demo-like could they be, especially the b-sides from Broom?! Well in their seven-year fringe-of-the-public-zeitgeist tenure, and ten years as a band, their production values have wilfully soared and plummeted as much as a kite on the breeze. It makes SSLYBY sound like two different bands, one playing at Will Knauer’s house in a suburb of Springfield, Missouri, and one recording in a high-tech, gee whizz, sound-proofed studio. (In reality, even the uber-polished Pershing was recorded at Knauer’s aunt’s house).

So sound varies wildly. At the end of ‘What We’ll Do’, you can literally hear the tape stop; on ‘Song 1000’, the band just about hold things together while they muck around with (what sound like) kazoos. At the other end of the scale, Let It Sway’s lush mid-range pours out of the speakers on ‘Bended’ and ‘Letter Divine’, a richness and warmth, employed from Pershing onwards, to give singles like ‘Think I Wanna Die’, ‘Glue Girls’, ‘Banned (By The Man)’ and ‘Critical Drain’ their glamour and anthemic charm.

A few songs don’t really fit into either of these two categories and float innocuously between them: ‘Sweet Owl’ is the sort of tune I thought SSLYBY would never record, just because it’s so folksy, and ‘Yellow Missing Signs’ (the first song leaked from Tape Club) adopts an electro edge that makes you wonder what the band were up to when non-rock influences took hold in jamming sessions.

Diamonds in the rough tease themselves out, as is often the case with SSLYBY. Campfire ditty ‘Bigger Than Yr Yard’ could have made it onto Broom to close it with a late-night sing-a-long. Some of the newer, cleaner production stuff also grabs hold of you after a few listens: ‘New Day’ and ‘Coming Through’ are a class act placed by side by side. They’re probably my highlights of the album and shimmer with an innocent, harmonious glow. They're much like the flowering of confidence that seemed to resonate in Pershing: the realisation of the group's creative energy and pop prowess.

It's a great collection. There's no doubting that. I say it as a fan and as an advocate, but also because I think Tape Club shows quite clearly how enjoyable a band can be with a few chords running round their heads spontaneously knocked out on tape. Purveyors of lo-fi fun, nonsense and slivers of brilliance, SSLYBY are pop stalwarts.

Indie-blog praise hasn’t quite lived up to expectation: the objective 'standard' that artists are supposedly aiming for, but that is too crude. Even if ubiquity doesn't come calling, it doesn't need to, for many of us are just happy listening to SSLYBY….and occasionally writing about them.

Tape Club is in stores on 18^th October and comes in all sorts of formats (see here). The band are currently touring the States, as always. Fingers crossed for European dates. See above to stream the album.

Neon Indian- Era Extraña

Neon Indian- Era Extraña

(2011, Static Tongues/ Mom+Pop)

Neon Indian: pioneer of 2009/10 phenomenon ‘chillwave’; talented young 23 year old from Texas; man who sellotaped together some random electronic flotsam and jetsam in 2009 and stood back to reveal a completed work called Psychic Chasms that stunned and excited listening hoards in equal measure. Neon Indian’s creator Alan Palomo has been treated kindly by the internet. His music is innovative, bright and colourful; he is also clearly serious about his machines and the way they are used so prominently and consistently in his work, which is I think part of his wide appeal.

For an album title, Era Extrana sounds like it was rejected as a wacky Coldplay concept name. Mixed by the guy who recorded Tame Impala’s Innerspeaker and both MGMT records, it picks up where Psychic Chasms left off. Fizzling with synthetic spark, beats and video game samples, it delves back in to the fun but delicate papier-mâché universe that Psychic Chasms created for itself to indulge in spaceship dreams and psychedelic story-telling.

Best start with the equivalent of the debut’s hit ‘Deadbeat Summer’ and look at ‘Polish Girl’: overall an incredible poppy stunner to rival Deadbeat’s breezy underplayed emotion and playful energy. There’s no doubt this will be a favourite for Neon Indian sets. The video is also representative of what it seems Palomo wanted to achieve: that eccentric Flaming Lips-esque abstraction. A world that wilfully will not be placed in space or time. Posing like the opening video for a Daft Punk gig, a futuristic astronaut-cum-welder DJ is teased away from his twiddly noise boxes by a young woman and goes on a journey to re-connect with her using what seems to be VHS, or Betamax, or some quasi-vintage equipment cobbled together in the year 2050 because all technology is sort of wiped out but we’ve invented this weird hybrid breed. It’s kitsch and textured. Computers rule in Palomo’s world, even in his videos.

The album is divided into three parts: ‘Attack’, ‘Decay’ and ‘Release’ but some bits struggle to find their voice. ‘Blindside Kiss’ (from ‘Attack’, it seems) tries this kind of detached, drug-infused drudgery that just seems a little aloof for my taste and sort of floats off into space. ‘Future Sick’ (mmm, lovely name) and ‘Suns Irrupt’ follow it into the dark-matter abyss. Feedback and hiss on this album threaten to stop Palomo in mid-song at every turn, even though many of them are strong, and drag him into the vacant dreaminess of his artistic universe. His feel for a good melody is in attendance on ‘Hex Girlfriend’ with its catchy backing vocal and ‘Heart: Decay’ is a classic 1980s Sci-Fi throwback, steeped in muffled effects. Indian acquired his chillwave credentials from the dimension of nostalgia that underlines his oddly apathetic party music, and that is clearly not lost. ‘Halogen (I Could Be A Shadow)’s indie pop structure and danceable tendencies are wrapped by echoic effects added to the vocal and the gentle thrum of high-end hiss.

The detachment of the latter half of the album is arguably annoying. It’s the result of Neon Indian’s insistence on delivering woozy futurism very persistently and deliberately. But you can’t begrudge him for that. The electronic, future….mash concept is clearly strong and sounds like Lucky Charms marshmallows might do if they scrapped cereal and did music instead. Sometimes that can be a little too riddled with synthesisers but the good bits make it worth it, (much like Lucky Charms themselves!) Luck Charms and Neon Indian are surely a marketing tie-in made in heaven when you think about it.

What Palomo does for his third album will really be interesting (not to diminish the obviously considerable effort he must have put in to making this one.) I guess when you’ve made an album as mad as this, what do you do next?!

The album is out now so you can buy it, or you can wait till 10th October for one of these deluxe synthesiser bundles that Rough Trade are doing. Up to you really, innit?

Gang Gang Dance Glass Jar

I’ve been wondering about this: the follow-up LP to Gang Gang Dance’s Saint Dymphna. New material has been two and a half years in the making, but finally some new output from Eye Contact (due 9th May) has leaked. Gang Gang Dance were always a band I thought- on gut-instinct- were wilfully inaccessible to radio-listening audiences. Their music appeared to run creative process through a bleakly mechanical avant-garde play-doh machine and inject eccentricity into their sound and writing to just such a perfectly superficial and sufficient extent that the result was in fact balance: a sort of ordered chaos. There was something of a pre-meditated calculation going on, like the pop re-brandings of Madonna, Britney Spears and others that carefully constructed unconventionality.

Saint Dymphna was certainly varied; indeed it seemed to be deliberately as unpredictable as possible. ‘House Jam’ stomped encouragingly with gall and flair, and ‘Princes’, featuring the then breaking Tinchy Stryder was just one of the most surreal collaborations of hip-hop and...something, I ever heard. Other parts though- most parts in my view, fell short: dank, grey and dutifully pretentious. An acquired taste certainly. Even then the LP was less ultra-unconventional than the band’s many preceding EPs.

So ‘Glass Jar’ (or whatever first track that was going to be leaked) was never going to be something you could play your Mum. The track begins with a male voiceover: “I can hear everything. It’s everything time”, which is the cue for a gentle 11-minute journey that begins with ambient synths and the sound of running streams, and builds gradually to encompass electro beats and steel drums. Singer Lizzi Bougatsos (imagine what it might sound like to sing with your mouth permanently in a whistling shape, and that’ll be her) then joins in halfway through.

For a song that’s this long and uses so many psychedelic aural knick-knacks, ‘Glass Jar’ is light and doesn’t gorge on the mawkish toffee apple of experimental flirtation that characterised Saint Dymphna. Nor, to me, does it push any other button, however. So what, exactly, is it? Where Gang Gang Dance will go on the new LP is endlessly fun speculation, but an answer is enigmatic, much like the band. Perhaps the fact that this a massive track that's full of all the bombastic gadgetry that would be necessary to qualify the new record as extremely ambitious, but that it fails to leave an impression, indicates that nothing much has changed.

James Blake- James Blake LP, The Much Anticipated Debut

When the final moment of James Blake’s meteoric rise to fame took place, newspapers, magazines and websites looked back together on five months in which a 22 year old music student from London went from a virtual unknown- a barely featured artist on the national dubstep scene- to the darling of Radio 1, cleared from the shelves, wonder producer. When playing a set on Zane Lowe's Radio 1 show, Lowe treated him like near-messianic pop royalty, inquiring after the album in such a way as it had already set as a classic. Check your local store for CMYK. You won't find it. Then check Ebay. Try and buy a ticket for his upcoming London shows. Then check Ebay. Appetites gorged on opportunities to see and hear him like the first hour of the Sales. Blake saw, or perhaps more accurately, he was seen, and he conquered, beyond all recognition.

Since shedding the petals of a first bloom, James Blake- the LP- picked up the mantle a few days ago from the 2 EPs that clearly spoke to music lovers for much longer than their 15 minute run times. Here the big posturing, media work and endless London Underground adverts really took over. Atlas, owned by Polydor released it in the UK. An expected immediate entry into the UK top 10. Universal in the US. Tours on both sides of the Atlantic. There really is no overstating the change that took place, nor the intensity and focus of our interest.

To that reception, a quiet animal arises. James Blake is a brooding and discordant record such that one would expect a well-known and already seasoned creative artist to make to compliment their work. This is Neil Young jumping straight to the digi-stuff on Trans without years of classic rock and traditional songsmanship. It is ambitious, does away with CMYK and Klavierwerke to a large extent and forgets what everyone might expect James Blake, a young cool producer, to be and sound like. If you’ve already read a review of this album, you have almost certainly seen a comparison with Bon Iver and that is a view I take too. As incomprehensible as it seems, the minimal dubstep of CMYK and piano/vocal combination of Klavierwerke are smashed together and toned down about three notches on the scale of druggy dance. The result is, oddly enough, down-tempo slow-building laments that stew in a pickle of electronics, clicks and auto-tuned vocals a la Blood Bank more than For Emma, Forever Ago. If that sounds horrible, James Blake’s Feist cover ‘Limit To Your Love’ (which features on this album) showed four months ago that Blake is versatile, adaptable and brimming with ideas. The core of this album is at ‘Lindesfarne I’ and ‘Lindesfarne II’- one song really, but split into the bit that’s almost completely vocal-only (yes, that’s right), and the bit that’s almost completely vocal-only with a few rhythmic flicks of a guitar here and there. Busy it is not. Silent moments on these and other tracks such as ‘I Never Learnt To Share’ (again, very much devoid of instrumentation) and ‘Why Don’t You Call Me’ serve as nervy seconds of reflection to stress and package the real sound that is carefully dotted around. Is it complicated? No, I wouldn’t say so either. The creations are just excellently crafted- like ‘I Mind’, perhaps the closest thing to Blake’s CMYK with its pitch-altering and dizzying sample, rarely places more than a chord and a carefully selected sound effect in any one place, breaking them up intermittently and unexpectedly for a new, sparing but deliberate ration of sound.

The lack of general confusion here, every action seemingly precision-engineered, makes for a focused and seriously engaging record. As though it were a dance of electronic hypnosis, each apparently immaterial singular blip or background chord hits a deeper place than it ought to. This is James Blake’s real crowning achievement. If ‘Limit To Your Love’ was its show piece, there might have been a sense of disappointment among keen followers, asking why a producer with a seemingly natural ear for choreographed minimalism and general creativity would conform to neat song structure or allow an excellent radio smash to take control of the record musically. But ‘Wilhelms Scream’, ‘Lindesfarne’ and seven other tracks do thrust Blake into an excellent direction, and, most promisingly, nothing sounds like it was a labour of pain or self-conscious worry. For a man on top of the world right now, Blake has a lot to be pleased about, and hopefully, a long career to look forward to.

Stream the album HERE courtesy of eminently lovely 'Pretty Much Amazing'