Chimpomatic

Terra Nova

Promising big budget dino romp about time-travelling colonialists. Avatar's grumpy army guy does same role.

#Screened
#Film
#chimp71

11th Sep 2011

Off Beat

Easily the best Swiss-German-Gay-Hip Hop movie I've ever seen.

#JustWatched
#Film
#CSF

18th Feb 2011

The Men Who Stare At Goats

Rambling, sub-Coen Bros psychic army comedy.

#JustWatched
#Film
#CSF

12th Jan 2011

Jerk With A Bomb

Death To False Metal

Last week's Black Mountain gig sent me into a completist spin of Black-Mountain-Army-MP3-domination and as a result I dug up this previously overlooked, very early Jerk With A Bomb album. Before Pink Mountaintops and before Black Mountain it was just One Easy Skag and the Silo - AKA Stephen McBean and Joshua Wells.

While later JWAB efforts - 2001's The Old Noise and 2003's Pyrokenesis - have their moments (Pyrokenisis in particular with stellar stand-outs Fine Health Is At Home and the sublime To The Graves), both could be considered relatively patchy affairs. Death To False Metal on the other hand aims a little lower but maintains a solid, consistent level of entertainment - as well as a healthy live feel. You could imagine these two turning up at your BBQ and wowing the camp fire crowd with this whole album.

That's not to say it's all at one note - and This Broken Heart, New Wave Is Dead and particularly Half Mast provide some momentous highlights. Sure, it's still a lo-fi affair, but the passion and fury unleashed on some of the tracks is astounding and the record serves as a welcome early warning of Stephen McBean's deep reservoir of song-writing talent, not to mention Joshua Wells' epic drumming.

Listen in full over at CBC Radio 3 (Track 5 onwards is this album, the first 4 are from the 2 later albums).

#Music
#CSF

23rd Jul 2010 - Add Comment - Tweet

The Losers

(dir. Sylvain White)

Hardass team of US army dudes get caught out on a secret mission to kill some narcos in South America. The first of many (many) explosions in this film leaves everyone thinking they're dead but (just like the A-Team) they're not. Revenge time! Hot chick from Avatar arrives, sans blue body paint. Beats up team leader for a bit, sets hotel room on fire, woah hang on, not only is she totally hot AND tough - she's ALSO on their side. Let's team up to kill the evil mastermind who's totally framed us all. And blow some more stuff up.

In the comic which this is based on, this story plays out in entertaining fashion. Here it's ok... but just all seems so... thin. Shot after shot is in slow motion, with everyone wearing shades and looking TOUGH. Then you get some bits where it's in that beer ad slow/FAST/slow style that makes the whole film feel like a trailer for itself. 

On the upside, you can sort of imagine them all being in a better film with a script that has a little more depth and a little less unwarranted belief in its own amazing sense of coolness; Jeffrey Dean Morgan (The Comedian in Watchmen) is fine, Idris (I AM STRINGER BELL) Elba is credible and Chris (not that one) Evans has a few funny motormouth moments. But it all feels pretty generic and stupid, and the final action scene (SPOILER ALERT it's BLOW STUFF UP slow/FAST/slow BOOM BOOM BOOM mwah ha ha now you will see my real plan/ no wait!/ we've totally got you in our sights/ woah it's a set-up/ no! argh! BANG gotcha repeat to comedy final scene etc etc) isn't really all that exciting at all. 

One to read, not watch.

#Film
#chimp71

21st Apr 2010 - Add Comment - Tweet

The Men Who Stare At Goats

(dir. Grant Heslov)

It's a great set-up - as anyone who's read Jon Ronson's original book will tell you. Psychic spies operating out of a US military black ops unit called the First Earth Battalion, working on off-the-wall experiments like remote viewing, running through walls and killing goats just by staring at them - it's real life X Files stuff.

There's a decent cast: George Clooney as the burnt-out psychic spy heading for one last mission in the desert; Jeff Bridges as the pony-tailed leader of the unit; Kevin Spacey the new recruit to the unit who's jealous of Clooney's psychic skills.

So why doesn't it work here? To start, Ewan McGregor doesn't help - especially when saddled with an American accent that isn't that convincing. 

But the main problem is that this is a film in search of a story. Watching Clooney and McGregor running around lost in the desert alternating with flashbacks to the First Earth Battalion's wacky history is quite amusing, and occasionally funny, but it's not exactly gripping.

Feels like everyone's coasting on their charm here - with little from Clooney, Spacey or Bridges that we haven't seen before, and more than enough of that McGregor flatness that we have. One reference to the unit thinking of themselves as "Jedis" is kind of funny - using it all the way through the film and expecting us not to immediately think - "yeah and look what Ewan did when HE had Jedi powers" - is just annoying. 

By the time we get to see some of the "dark side" applications of the experimental army techniques - ie a glib hint at the terrors of Guantanamo, Abu Ghraib etc - it's far too little too late; especially when it culminates in a bizarre desert romp episode - pretty offensive given the scale of the real life incidents it alludes to, rather than hitting the kind of Catch 22 levels of satire it seems to be aiming for.

It's also one of the first films in recent years to cop out with an 80s freezeframe ending. 

#Film
#chimp71

6th Nov 2009 - Add Comment - Tweet

Inglourious Basterds

(dir. Quentin Tarantino)

Miramax

After the pasting that Death Proof got here (we even had to get Tech Support to code us up a special Zero Stars graphic) expectations haven't exactly been riding high for Tarantino's Nazi-bashing opus. It's also had one of those long gestation periods that puts you off, with rumours flying around that he's had to cut chunks out/ add loads back in, that it was going to be split in two (again!) or was so long he was going to have to turn it into a TV series (actually, it would be kind of fun if HBO would let him loose some time); the mixed reviews at Cannes certainly didn't seem to bode well either. 

But forget all that. About five minutes into this film, you'll remember what it is you liked about Tarantino in the first place. Yes, he's a total film geek whose only frame of reference seems to be other films - but when he pulls it off, he's more than capable of turning that encyclopedic knowledge into something thrilling. Basterds is exciting, has something to say, has a great cast - and more than anything, it's surprisingly fun.

Here, we've got two main threads running in tandem through five chapters. On the one hand, the Basterds - a kind of Dirtier Dozen, with Brad Pitt leading a commando unit of Jewish avengers on a rampage through second world war Germany, scalping as many Nazis as possible and generally causing total havoc. That's the story that's featured in the early trailers, and again, the prospect of watching a bloodbath for two hours didn't really seem that promising. 

The other thread involves a Jewish woman (a brilliant Mélanie Laurent) who's running a small cinema in the heart of Nazi-occupied Paris. She's living in secret, passing herself off as a gentile, when a German war hero falls for her, and convinces Goebbels and the rest of the Third Reich (including Hitler) that her little cinema would be the perfect venue for the premiere of Nation's Pride, a propaganda film about his real-life war exploits (which he's also starring in)...

Tarantino pulls these two stories together with typical flair, but it's much more subtle than the tricksiness of Pulp Fiction. There's real drive and tension here as the pieces weave together - don't want to go into too much more plot detail here, as half the fun is not knowing how it fits together.

What's also worth noting is that Brad Pitt aside, this is a cast of relative unknowns - you may have seen Diane Kruger in Troy, but don't hold that against her - she's great here as a German movie star. Hostel director Eli Roth plays one of the Basterds, Sgt Dony Donowitz (and he also shot the footage for Nation's Pride). Michael Fassbender (Bobby Sands in Hunger) is the British spy teaming up with the Basterds. Daniel Brühl is the smooth-talking German war hero. Even Mike Myers is hilarious again in a cameo as a British army officer barking out mission instructions. But the real stand-out is Christopher Waltz as the creepy Nazi Col Hans Landa - effortlessly flipping between German, French, English and Italian (in one of the film's most hilarious/tense scenes). He's a character that lingers long after the credits have rolled. And you won't look at a glass of milk in the same way for a while.

It's heavily subtitled, which Tarantino uses to great effect. Unlike a lot of second world war films, he's not afraid to let everyone speak in their own language, which builds a sense of the war taking place across the continent; language becomes something to hide behind, or give people away. Even Pitt's Southern-drawling Lt Aldo Raine could do with some explanation at times - his accent is so hilariously OTT it should come with subtitles... 

For film buffs there's plenty to enjoy - although you may want to brush up on your war films before watching if you want to get all the references here. The title of the first chapter - "Once Upon a Time in Nazi-Occupied France" - sets the tone. This is a fantasy, a film that's not afraid to take history and play fast and loose with it; to talk about cinema's power and potential, and ideas of revenge; and also, for once, to start to examine some of the more gratuitous aspects of the QT violence in the cinema aesthetic (alright, while still giving us some more insanely gratuitous moments). It's also just really enjoyable - much more of a romp than you'd expect.

#Film
#chimp71

18th Aug 2009 - Add Comment - Tweet

Lightning Dust

Infinite Light

Jagjaguwar

The Black Mountain Army are proving to be nothing if not consistent. Since releasing Black Mountain's barn-storming In The Future in 2008, the contributors have been working steadily through their alter egos - with Pinkmountaintops putting out the excellent Outside Love and now alumni Amber Webber and Joshua Wells releasing a second album under the Lightning Dust moniker. I'm expecting a breakthrough album from Blood Meridian next.

Webber's contribution to Black Mountain is not to be over-looked, with her sultry vocals pulling the band back from the brink of parody and adding a mournful sound to the mix. Her vocals also supplied some of the highlights on Outside Love - and she was sorely missed on the supporting tour. With Lightning Dust however, Webber is firmly centre stage - taking on the majority of the writing, as well as guitar and 95% of the vocals.

Where the self titled debut was spare and sultry, Infinite Light is a more filled out and polished affair - much like the latest albums from the previously mentioned strands - and that extra push pays out rich rewards. Where Lightning Dust occasionally strained or became just too sparse, Inifinte Light sweeps and soars, showing a much wider range. Opener Antonia Jane is a country-tinged affair, obligitary lead-free-download I Knew adds some catchy low-key disco electronics and is notable for Well's superb drumming, while the piano-led The Times even threatens to become a sing-a-long. There are mysterious synthesizers and luscious strings, which all add up to a strangely epic vibe - for what is still essentially a small, self-contained record. There's a consistency and clarity here that would make a perfect soundtrack, probably to a modern day western or double crossin' film noir.

That 5% of the vocals that Webber doesn't cover is where this album loses it's half star - momentarily slipping towards that musical theatre vibe as the male vocals intrude on Honest Man. So while the variations are welcome to a certain extent, it's still the mournful voice of Webber that scores the highlights here - leading us effortlessly through the swell of History, the pounding balladry of Wondering What Everyone Knows or the flawless closer Take It Home, which perfectly sums up everything good about this excellent band. Great drums, moody bass, strings that could go on forever and a soaring, epic vocal performance that will put shivers down your spine.

Unmissable.

#Music
#CSF

30th Jul 2009 - 1 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Transformers: Revenge Of The Fallen

(dir. Michael Bay)

BANG! CRRRRRSH! NEEEEEEOOOOOOOOOOOWWW! ARRRRRRRRGGGGGHHHH! The Fallen has risen! Quick! Grab the All-Spark shard! Don't let the Decepticons get the hidden secret thing! I'm off to college mom and dad, damn they won't let me take my cool robot car or hot girlfriend Megan (she really is a) Fox! I just want a normal non-robot life. Uh-oh! They're back! The Autobots need me?! OK I'll save the world again if I must. Hope I don't rip another T-shirt. Maybe this hacker roommate I've just got will come in useful? CRRRRRSHHH! There they go again! OPTIMUS!!!! Nooooooooo! Quick! Call in the US MILITARY! Transformers are really, really, really old. And MEGATRON'S BACK!! Anyhow, let's BLOW STUFF UP! Run Megan (she really is a) Fox, RUN! Let's find that other dude from the first movie! JET ATTACK! OUTER SPACE!!! UNDERWATER!! Destiny! Call THE ARMY!! BOOOOOOOOOM!!! Let's go to EGYPT!! BLOW UP THE PYRAMIDS!!!! 

Warning: comes with built-in headache. But does deliver on the promise of more robot battles and explosions. And shots of Megan Fox.

#Film
#chimp71

17th Jun 2009 - Add Comment - Tweet

X-Men Origins: Wolverine

(dir. Gavin Hood)

Fox

Another does-what-it-says-on-the-tin Marvel outing. It's Wolverine, and the story of how he got to be Wolverine. You know he won't die in the process because he made it all the way to X-Men 3: The Crap Stand, so there's no need to worry about any of the scrapes he gets into along the way. Anyone you've heard of from the others will also make it, with a good chance that any newbies we encounter along the way won't. If you can get over that, it's fine.

As in the other films, Hugh Jackman's early Clint charm pulls the whole thing along. He's got the chops and the sideburns, the claws and the cigars, and enough personality to make the film work. There are long passages where this is totally all you need, and it's quite fun seeing him acquire his jacket and chat about his life-long love of motorbikes etc.

It's efficient stuff, ably directed by Gavid Hood (Tsotsi, Rendition) until the obligatory blow-out ending - another one that suffers from the "hang on bad guys, just wait there while I do this thing over here for a moment and um, yes, ok, I'm ready for you to come and fight again now" syndrome that affects so many of these films. It's fine for them to ask us to believe in a chap with a metal skeleton and super-insta-healing and all that, but really, it sucks when films fall apart with basic lapses in logic. We get all the way to Stryker's evil scientist hideout - but then there's no-one there with him apart from some lab coat henchlady - he's in the US Army! Come on! Where's all his super secret soldiers or whatever?! 

Liev Shrieber is a decent foil as Sabretooth (although all he and Wolverine seem to do is run at each other every 20 minutes or so); Danny Houston makes a decent Colonel Stryker and there are various other mutants along the way to please Marvel fanboys: Gambit (magic cards), The Blob (super blobby dude), Bolt (power over lightbulbs - played by Lost refugee Dominic Monaghan), Deadpool (chatty assassin), John Wraith (played by will.i.am - seems to be a bit like Nightcrawler except with a cowboy hat) etc etc.  

It's nowhere near as lame as X3, and is all fairly entertaining, but it's hard not to wonder when we're going to get a whole new set of characters or worlds to get into, rather than fleshing out long-established franchises.

#Film
#chimp71

27th Apr 2009 - Add Comment - Tweet

In The Loop

(dir. Armando Iannucci)

"To walk the road of peace, sometimes we need to be ready to climb the mountain of conflict..."

Great big screen translation of TV's The Thick Of It's TV (aka Yes, Minister? Fuck The Fuck Off). The mighty Peter Capaldi returns as Malcom Tucker, the spin doctor's spin doctor in a transatlantic tale of dodgy dossiers and chicken-arsed political manoeuvres that bites into the whole Iraq build-up in a scarily convincing way. MP Tom Hollander's ambiguous statements about the possibility of war land him in trouble as he finds himself being courted by hawks and doves on either side of the Atlantic, with predictably disastrous results. 

This is a brilliant take on the madness of our modern political world, with all the usual suspects back from the TV show (some in slightly different roles which is a bit confusing, but fine after a while), and the added bonus of James Gandolfini in his first post-Sopranos role as a US army general caught up in the Washington political flak. Watch out for a decent Steve Coogan cameo too as a pissed-off area man back in the UK trying to get his wall fixed. 

It's packed with so many great one-liners and inventive insults that you start out trying to remember them all to use in conversation later, until the sheer volume of them forces you to give up and to just sit back and enjoy the barrage of language at its fullest. It's also worth pointing out that this is a British film that's not a geezer heist, a shitcom with a punfull title or written by Jane Austen.  

Giving it 4****s here in honour of the outstanding contributions to the art of swearing - it's ****ing great.  

#Film
#chimp71

27th Apr 2009 - Add Comment - Tweet

Wooden Shjips

Dos

Holy Mountain

What a treat it is to sink your teeth into a new record by this San Francisco quartet. Dos is only their second full length creation, but already it feels like the band have reformed in order to bring us this due to the drip-feed stream of limited edition and self released nuggets that have circulated since their initial conception. Everything from their artwork to their uncompromisingly mesmeric sound give this band a cult tinge and Dos, more than anything they've ever done, is utterly self-indulgent bliss.

Things have changed slightly since their Vol. 1 release. The songs have got lighter and less abrasive. Their means of attack has shifted away from the long drawn out bludgeoning of songs like Shrinking Moon to a more gentle form of intoxication. The result is the same and each of the five tracks here glistens with an effervescent cool that is simply captivating. Motorbike and For So Long act as concise warm up songs with their repetitive swirling, narcotic rhythm threatening to stretch out endlessly. But that is left to Down By The Sea, a song that certainly shows that these guys can still go the distance. There are certain things you expect from certain bands and an eleven-minuter is this bands USP. After the first few minutes of this song you can almost hear it adjust its seat, shift up into a steady gear and kick back for the long haul. It rides endlessly on the same gentle rhythm but it's Eric "Ripley" Johnson's swirling guitar that does the hard work. He sounds like he's got an army of The Edges behind him as he coaxes superhuman sounds out of his instrument. They duck and dive in and out of the beat, fading to a slushy grumble sometimes then lifting to euphoric heights, but once they emerge off the back of the already submerged vocals in minute 2 they never stop until the whole song gasps its last mighty breath. It's pure muscle and one that makes the measly 6 minute Aquarian Time seem like a cool breeze. Thankfully the mightiest has been saved for last and as Fallin' stretches out for just short of eleven and a half minutes, another cruise control moment sets in. It's less muscular than Down By The Sea and is based around Nash Whalen's swirlingly, hypnotizing organ. It brings the album to quite a gentle close but as with most of this bands work it is so addictive you just want to start again.

I think Dos captures this addiction more succinctly than the other releases. It eases off the pummeling but still maintains the intensity. From the opening note you are submerged in minimal and unconditional psychedelia that makes no pretenses as to its influences but with stamina that leaves most other bands for dust they stretch out way beyond these reference points to a place all their own.

#Music
#BC

14th Apr 2009 - Add Comment - Tweet

Waltz With Bashir

Ari Folman

Bridgit Folman Film Gang

Powerful examination of guilt, war and repression from Israeli director Ari Folman. Shot in the rotoscoped animation style that both Richard Linklater (Waking Life, A Scanner Darkly) and Ralph Bakshi (American Pop, Lord Of The Rings) have used, it's a docudrama take on his time in the Israeli army, as he searches through his past to try and uncover lost memories of a mission in the Lebanon. 

As he travels the world to meet up with old friends and people he was in the army with, we circle round ideas of how people deal with the horrors of war, the guilt of living and the terror of being witness to unspeakable horror. The choice to animate the story allows it to float effortlessly across time and space, weaving together his memories as other people open up the moments his mind has blocked for over twenty years. 

It's the collision between the warmth of seeing old friends and the brutality of their time in the Lebanon war that makes this film such an intense experience. It's been criticised for soft-pedalling the Israeli position, but it seemed to be much more concerned with trying to understand how our minds work to comprehend the shock of war rather than the morality; how people can carry on living after seeing how terrible people can be firsthand. 

#Film
#chimp71

3rd Nov 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Hellboy II: The Golden Army

(dir. Guillermo Del Toro)

Dark Horse Entertainment

Red's back: bigger, badder and much better. Enjoyed the first outing, even if it was a bit of a mess (and took me three jet-lagged goes on a plane to get through). Here, after the success of the brilliant Pan's Labyrinth, it feels like Guillermo Del Toro's been given free reign to immerse the agents of the BPRD (Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defense) into his own fantasy world.

It's a great blend of Men In Black-style covert ops, CGI action, detailed fantasy and humour, with what's got to be the best use of Barry Manilow in a film ever. Well, since Copacabana, obviously.

Luke Goss (yes, the Bros twin - he starred with Hellboy Ron Perlman in Del Toro's Blade II triv fans) plays Prince Nuada, elf royalty with a big chip on his ancient shoulder about how humans have been treating the planet since doing a deal with his elf king father eons ago. He's out to resurrect the mythical golden army; Hellboy and the rest of the BPRD are out to stop him. A straightforward enough plot that allows the fun of this world to shine. 

Underwater dude Abe Sapien's still uptight, but falling for Nuada's twin sister; fire-woman Liz (Selma Blair) is now living with Hellboy, but finding a demon's domestic habits a little trying; cult hero Jeffrey Tambor (Hank "Hey now!" in Larry Sanders, George Bluth Sr in Arrested Development) returns as Hellboy's procedure-loving human handler. German gas-man Johann Krauss joins the team as another handy paranormal expert with brains to match's Hellboy's brawn.

It's much closer to the atmosphere of Del Toro's creepy organic insect monsters in Pan's Labyrinth than the first one was, which pitches it a cut above the generic Hollywood creature features; it's much goofier and lighter than PL: more an amuse bouche than the rare steaks we're hoping for his Hobbit double bill.

#Film
#chimp71

4th Aug 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Radiohead

Victoria Park, London

June 24th, 2008

In our recent interview with Silver Jews front man David Berman, he described festivals as a form of mass date-rape, where you get a load of willing victims into a field and rob them of what they think they hold dear. He also directed a few comments towards Radiohead, so while I stood for hours in a queue for beer in Victoria Park for the first night of the Radiohead extravaganza, my thoughts turned towards Berman's comments and what he might make of this. The band had turned Victoria Park into their own festival and it was huge. Swarms of people queued for food and drink, Berman would have puked. When the band started up, my intentions of getting near to the front were seriously downgraded so I had to settle for 80 meters back catching a fleeting glimpse of the pin prick on the horizon that I presumed was Thom Yorke.

So the venue was way too big, there were way too many dickheads in the crowd who had clearly come to chat to one-another rather than watch the show and I was way too far away for my liking. But, the music was sensational. I realised that night that Radiohead's music needs to be heard under an open sky. In this context it doesn't matter where you are standing as simply turning your gaze skyward releases this music into infinity where it belongs. It was such a still night and the sound drifted across to me perfectly. Set-wise it was a different story to the Hammersmith gig in 2006, with pretty much all of In Rainbows getting a thorough airing along with many choice morsels from Kid Amnesiac. Hail To The Thief was severely neglected with only There There representing and when any of the older songs cropped up they were not your usual choices. But this was the story of the night for me. I've heard Karma Police, Paranoid Android, The Bends and Fake Plastic Trees countless times live, but tonight it was a case of rediscovering under appreciated gems. Jonny Greenwood excelled himself on many occasions but his layered sampling on Climbing Up The Walls was truly stunning and coupled with Yorke's hauntingly lazy vocals this emerged as a surprising high point.

With each Radiohead gig I attend, I crave less and less these old favorites as the new songs - whether released or not - are so fresh and live. In Rainbows doubled in size under this still night sky with songs like Reckoner, Jigsaw and the chilling atmospherics of Videotape beaming up into the air with euphoric majesty. As Yorke retreated to the second drum kit for Bangers & Mash, Jonny Greenwood was left unattended up the front - an opportunity he seized with both hands providing a seriously fucked up, twisted version of this already raw track with avant guard screeches darting from his contorted guitar like a modern-day Coltrane. The whole evening was brought to an all too early close with one of the best moments of the night. The two big screens that flanked the stage displayed some multi angle camera work split into 4 sections, but as the opening chords of You And Who's Army? crept into view the whole screen was filled with a huge Yorke eye as he stretched up to pear into the lens. This minimal song with it's weary vocals accompanied by this all-seeing eye was mesmerising and as it gave way to the frenetic beats of Idioteque the night was complete.

Outdoor gigs always take shape as night falls and never has this been more true than here. As Yorke emerged after the encore and played a stripped down piano version of The Eraser's Cymbal Rush you could have heard a pin drop out there in that park. The shear size of the venue occasionally diluted the experience, as it's hard to feel connected to a band when you're so far away - but for a long term fan like myself to be reintroduced to songs I know so well is a treat and an unexpected delight. This band have all bases covered, from the light show to the live video art that attempts to do way more than simply show the people at the back what's going on. I would have to disagree with Mr. Berman, as on leaving the park I was buoyant with having been in the presence of greatness and though I strained to see anything and queued for an eternity in my own personal headspace I was flying.

#Music
#Gig
#BC

27th Jun 2008 - 1 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

The War On Drugs

Wagonwheel Blues

Secretly Canadian

Let's get the negative stuff out of the way first as I have only one solitary gripe about 'Wagonwheel Blues' the debut album from Philadelphia's The War on Drugs. At 43 minutes I just wish that it was longer.

It is oft observed that movies released early in the season miss out on the accolades when it comes to the Academy Awards. 'And the Oscar goes to...' well usually the film most fresh in the memory of the Academy members. With this in mind I shall duly make a note in my diary for December 2008. It will read 'must remember to seriously consider 'Wagonwheel Blues' for my nomination for 'album of the year'. Perhaps I'm being somewhat premature and that in due course another release will yet supersede this – but it will have to be special because 'Wagonwheel Blues' is an absolute corker of an album.

Those things that look so perfect on paper do not always prove to be so in reality. The answer is not always equal to the sum of the parts. The trophy-less years of the Real Madrid 'Galacticos' era are testimony to the difficulty of creating the dream team. It is with wonder then that 'The War on Drugs' have managed to draw up a wish list of sounds which when thrown into the mixing desk cauldron have created the most magical potion. Instead of 'the eye of a newt and toe of a frog' the band have whisked in the following ingredients;

- The Tom Petty drawl
- Choppy Velvet Underground riffs and chiming John Squire licks
- Drums of a civil war army marching into battle
- The bar room good times of Bruce and his E street band
- A Dylanesque way of dressing mystical lyrics as simple nursery rhymes
- The determination of Smog hitting the ground running
- A meandering journey like Talking Heads' on a road to nowhere
- The fuzz of the Happy Mondays at their funky and dirtiest 'Wrote for Luck' best
- The moody but (peter) hooky bass lines of Joy Division.

The resulting 'Wagonwheel Blues' mixture sounds both exactly, and simultaneously absolutely nothing, like this list of luminaries. Where some bands ape and imitate their heroes (yes that's you Explorer's Club) The War on Drugs give a polite nod of acknowledgement and thanks for the directions proffered before independently setting out to explore a path entirely of their own choosing. As the band say they roll like 'a Wagonwheel with a monkey on your back' but then remind the listener that 'there is no need. There is no need for urgency'. This road is littered with escapades that exhilarate as they build but with a tantalising tease so that the final destination remains for ever just over the brow of the next hill.

In case I have been too subtle, and I didn't think I have, then I shall bang you over the head one last time. 'Wagonwheel Blues' is a great album and I encourage you to give 'The War on Drugs' a hearing.

#Music
#Muxloe

5th Jun 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Clinic

Do It

Domino

For some strange reason, whenever I listen to Clinic I get this twisted vision of the band as puppet masters and on the end of their strings dance the recently slaughtered bodies of the Beach Boys. Lifeless, yet eerily animated, these corpses play out Clinic's own brand of surf-punk with singer Ade Blackburn's pursed-lipped vocals crawling from the mouth of Brian Wilson like maggots from a Thunderbird. Anyway...on with the review.

Do It is Clinic's fifth album and sees the band inhabiting much the same universe that they've been sole occupiers of since they started. It's a warped technicolor celebration that can veer from dreamy pop to acid psychosis with very little advance warning. This bipolar tension is deliciously seductive and on Do It Clinic have never sounded so relaxed and so uptight.

Memories opens this record with a gentle harpsichord chime which clears the way for a stomping marching band of calamitous percussion and driving guitars. With unstoppable ferocity it tramples down the aural highstreet of your mind, stopping dead as Blackburn imparts his bittersweet wisdom, then marching on as the occupying forces take their positions. The guitar strings on Tomorrow nearly buckle under the weight of the empty twang while single The Witch continues the advancing assault with thunderous guitars and booming rhythm. Shopping Bag is the point where this army takes up position and the real battle begins. With ferocious drumming and wild clarinet squeals Blackburn's voice reaches fever pitch as it assumes a crazed, demonic tone. It marks the most feral point of this record and even though the downbeat tempo of Corpus Christi shows no signing of afflicting the same damage its seething tension and distant squeals spell danger.

The juxtaposition that inhabits Clinic's sound is what give them their edge. Stylistically Do It doesn't stray too far from the ground covered by 2006's Visitations but simply reinforces and subtly steps up the tension between paranoia and tranquil waters. Their music envelopes the listener in an almost drug induced haze where nothing is as it seems. Visions of mysterious fortune tellers' horses in High Coin or the booming fog horn on Mary And Eddie loom out of this haze like dark ships that threaten your every turn. Each song continues this maniacal descent into madness as they spin you round and round on their twisted broken-down fair ground ride until you emerge, exhausted, the other side to the sound of chiming church bells. There is a reason why Clinic inhabit their own universe, no one else dares.

#Music
#BC

9th Apr 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Gary Numan + Tubeway Army

Replicas (2008 Tour Edition)

Beggars

There can be no denying that Are Friends Electric? is a slice of pop genius. A gigantic buzzsaw synth riff set against a tune that even your granny could hum, and enough oomph to put a smile on the face of rockers everywhere - this was a hook-laden pop formula that turned Numan into the star he'd always imagined himself to be. This, and two or three other notable tracks are the cornerstones of the album, and without those solid foundations Replicas would sound a bit weedy. Opening with Me, I Disconnect From You and also containing the Numan classic Down In The Park, Replicas doesn't maintain the consistent standard set by these twinkling gems. At times it sounds like Gaz was having a crack at being (pre-commercial) Human League, or even something a bit more art-punk like, say, Magazine. But it struggles to convince and sometimes comes across like pub-rock with synths plastered on.

And for die-hard fans (sorry, 'Numanoids') this could disappoint on a couple of levels. Billed as a "Redux" release, there has been some fairly efficient tidying up done. Maybe a bit too much. The original tracks were still driven by the sound of a band at work - real drums throughout, with guitar and bass guitar in strong evidence. The redux downplays this part of the mix, and much of the guitar work is quieter or even removed completely. Bafflingly, We Are So Fragile is missing - the B-side to Friends - which was included on the previous CD release of Replicas. Instead we get early versions of nearly every track, some of which sound like they've got a bit more life in them than the newer redux versions.

#Music
#HarrisPilton

11th Feb 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

Cloverfield

(dir. Matt Reeves)

Bad Robot

boom... BOOM... BOOM...

MULTIPLE SIGHTINGS OF CASE DESIGNATE "CLOVERFIELD"

CAMERA RETRIEVED AT INCIDENT SITE U.S. 447

AREA FORMERLY KNOWN AS "CENTRAL PARK"

From the moment this film kicks in, with a pounding THX rumble and a Classified Department of Defence logo stamped over a black screen, you know you're in for a ride. It's the 9/11 Godzilla, a Blair Witch Ghidorah, a Handicam Ebirah loaded with post-millenium lo-fi paranoia, confusion and panic, that lives up to all the Slusho/1-18-08 viral hype.

The conceit is that we're watching found footage from the night of a mysterious attack on NYC. We start at a going away party. A bunch of hip New Yorkers are hanging out while one of them is walking around trying to get the others to say nice things for their buddy before he heads off to Japan. It's a nice touch - there's a reason for the camera to be there, it makes total sense that you'd keep filming if something like this really did happen - there's a few scenes with other people simultaneously freaking out and getting their phone-cams out. It also gets us used to the jump-cut edits before everything goes nuts.

And when it does? It's a rush - you're thrown in with the WTF reactions of the partygoers, rushing up the stairs in their heels to the roof to see what's blown the city's power and is making such a noise outside. Instead of the omniscient perspective we're used to in monster movies — skipping around from the military, to the government, to the ordinary guy who knows the secret to defeating the thing if only he could just get to whoever's in charge, and back to the monster — here we're stuck on the ground with the crowds screaming through the streets, rushing into electronic stores and catching snatches of news on TVs before zipping back outside where tanks are suddenly crashing through the traffic and there's the briefest of glimpses of something smashing skyscrapers or chucking the Statue Of Liberty's head around...

It's a great concept, simply realised. The terror's effective, the shooting style produces some brilliantly frustrating moments when the camera's dropped on the ground so you can't really see what's happening - the old less-is-more trick, but thrown into the mix here, one that captures that sense of a bunch of cynical urban citizens who can't quite believe that they're really under siege by some unknown thing.

In a way, that seems to be the point here - it's an obvious allegory for terrorist attack; the sudden unknown presence of "hostile aliens" smashing into the everyday reality of people living their lives without any real grasp of a world outside their own. Smoke billows through the streets, phone signals are lost, no-one knows which way to go until the army show up barking orders through loud-hailers. As a cinematic experience it's pretty visceral - 84 minutes (yes! a short flim at last!) of shakycam is enough to make anyone dizzy - don't sit too near the front for this one.

A creature feature with something to say, Cloverfield delivers on the hype.

#Film
#chimp71

20th Jan 2008 - Add Comment - Tweet

The Consequences Of Love

(dir. Paolo Sorrentino)

Stylish, witty and engrossing thriller set in a slow-moving Swiss hotel.

Star Toni Servillo is almost a parody of the existential Euro art-house character - all sharp Italian suits, polo necks and chain-smoking, refusing to talk to the staff, barely making conversation to the other guests, just about mustering the energy to solve a daily chess puzzle in the paper. We watch him floating through his slow-motion existence, hovering on the edges of life, observing the people around him with a detatched sneer; taking everything in, letting nothing out.

What makes this film so great is the way that you're drawn into the central question - who is he, and what's he doing? - with a confident, seductive pull. The classy use of camera tricks, flashes of "did I just see that?" moments that'll have you reaching for the rewind and impressive sound design make this a quality outing. As the joy is in the reveal, there's no need to say anything else here...

#Film
#chimp71

11th Sep 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet

Latitude Festival

Henham Park, Southwold, Suffolk

I have always been of the opinion that dysentery is a disease best avoided.  After attending the Latitude Festival however, which took place last weekend in Henham Park, Suffolk, I realise that there may be many of you who are not so fastidious.

By all accounts last year’s festival, the first ever Latitude, was a grand affair; 10,000 people, families welcome (encouraged even), beautiful country park and good music.  Seduced by this proposal I followed a group of friends up the A12 and spent four days in an authentic, if slightly more squalid recreation of an earthquake refugee camp.

I have reached a respectable age and had thus far managed to avoid ever attending a music festival.  As someone who is mildly agoraphobic and plagued by an autistic need to bathe myself once a day, it may not have been a good idea to change the habit of a lifetime. 

With a gleeful wringing of hands the organisers announced on the eve of kick-off that all tickets had been sold.  20,000 people this year but apparently no proportionate increase in the facilities or the size of the arenas.  An excrement mountain due to an inadequate number of toilets; a complete collapse of water pressure and thus showers and overcrowding in several venues was the result.  The heavens took pity and, apart from a couple of heavy showers, blessed the reeking campers with sunshine and merry weather.

Day one; It was all about Wilco.  Two Gallants, Midlake, The Fields, began slowly cranking up the afternoon, but I was already worried that the weekend’s line-up which had looked so promising, might have been a bit heavy on whining and men sincerely frowning over their guitars.  Now Wilco are ostensibly a band of men who frown sincerely over their guitars, but they are also schizophrenic and utterly compelling. 

Before they got on stage I was bored; bored by the many children running around, bored by not being able to bring your own booze into the arena, bored by the crowds packed solidly into the comedy arena sheltering from quite a few boring performances.  The Magic Numbers had bounced the audience around a bit, but I just can’t take the whole beard and siblings thing.  It’s all a bit creepy, inspite of the smiley faces.

Then Wilco walked out and with a great white burn of lights, a heave of the crowd and a wall of guitars, they gave a performance to wake everybody up.  I had seen them in May at Shepherd’s Bush Empire and the hour-long set they played at Latitude shared all the highlights from that night but seemed even more determined.  New album ‘Sky Blue Sky’ got a good outing with storming renditions of ‘Walken’ and ‘Shake it off’.  Albums ‘Yankee Hotel Foxtrot’ and ‘A Ghost Is Born’ also got their hits out; teasing the audience with their gentle melodies before snapping into trademark guitar tsunamis and feedback.  Inspired.

Like a musical dose of Valium, Damien Rice must have been back-stage anxiously waiting to numb the crowd from their Wilco-induced high.  His presence in this otherwise exhilarating line-up was inexplicable and who in the world stayed to listen to him I couldn’t stay - but boy, the rapturous noise they made when he’d finished echoed across the campsite. Most disturbing.

Day two;  Bit of a slow builder again.  Herman Dune and Bat for Lashes on the main stage competed for ‘Sound-alike of the day’.  The Cretin who compared the former ‘to the likes of Bob Dylan’ should be strung up with guitar wire; this blatant Jonathan Richman tribute band are within a Nordic-facial-hair’s breadth of copyright infringement.  As for ‘Bat for lashes’, again the literature describes her as having been ‘compared to Bjork, Cat Power and Tori Amos’.  ‘Derivative of’ might be more accurate. 

Prize for most enthusiastic performance of the festival goes to The Hold Steady’.  They run on stage like a bunch of college jocks and front man Craig Finn, announces, ‘We’re the Hold Steady and we’re here to have a good time!’  It’s the last day of their tour and they are clearly over-excited. ‘Stuck between stations’, ‘Massive Night’, ‘Party Pit’ all provoke a lot of finger pointing form the crowd of forty-something-blokes enjoying some healthy man-rock and working themselves up to a belching coronary.  The band strings out every guitar crescendo and look like they never want to leave.  As Craig says, ‘When we started out it was so we could all meet a couple of nights a week and drink some beer.  This is beyond our wildest dreams’.

If Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, who followed, had had a modicum of The Hold Steady’s energy they would have avoided my nomination for Biggest Disappointment of the weekend.  As it was, my own hands were reluctant to celebrate contrived, gurney, vocals and a dull performance.  If they’d played the CD’s of their two albums I’d have had a great time. 

And so it was that CSS brought their balloons onto the stage of the Obelisk arena and revived a sagging day.  The crowd needed relief and their vacuous dance-pop perked it up like effervescent vitamin C.   ‘Let’s make love (and listen to death from above)’ closed the set.  With helium in her lungs Lovefoxxx squealed out her appreciation to the audience after an hour of cat suited carnival.

The Good the Bad and the Queen had to headline I guess, but it was another strange change of tempo when they ambled on. ‘History Song’ and ‘Herculean’ are unexpectedly ballsy, in no small part due to the contributions of Clash Bassist, Paul Simonon.  He takes control of the stage with loping strides and a brooding presence, plucking at his guitar and sending his deep bass across the crowd like a defibrillator.  A Dickensian London backdrop and a top hat for Mr Albarn seem to court great Blakean comparisons; Songs of Innocence and Experience.  And although he’s a very clever boy, Damon’s a right annoying twat with it.  ‘Soldier’s Tale’ comes with a sanctimonious nod to the ‘Soldier I met who was going to Iraq’ and when he brings on MC Eslam Jawaad for the encore I’m squirming at the smug self-consciousness of it all. 

When the band plays ‘80’s life’ I can’t help but think of the last Blur album, and clearly I’m not the only one musing on this.  In the audience there are a lot of girls grinning.  Occasionally I hear one of them shouting, ‘I want to fuck you Damon’… which suggests that something less than raging Anti-war sentiments were rousing the crowd’s passions.

Day three; My limbs are crippled, caked with filth resulting from the lack of shower facilities.  An internal build up of noxious fumes as I attempt to avoid going to the toilet and asphyxiation by medieval stench when I finally do, have all left me in a bad way.  So far this whole Festival bollocks is proving no substitute for a good three-hour gig at the Brixton Academy.

But that’s ok because today’s line up is looking good.  I was annoyed to miss most of the Andrew Bird set after collapsing with exhaustion from my third toilet trip of the day.  All this hovering above the chasm and straining is traumatizing me.  What I eventually do hear sounds bewitching in the summer afternoon.  The drummer, Dosh (accomplished electro-musician himself), gives fine support to Bird who provides vocals, looping violins, guitars, glockenspiel and goddam fine whistling.

Next up The National, whom I’ve been anticipating like a child waits for Christmas.  But Oh No! What’s this?…. there appears to be confusion on stage.  Look, there are Messrs Dessner, Dessner, Devendorf and Devendorf, but what are they doing spending so long tinkering with their instruments and sticking tape onto everything?  It transpires that The National arrived at Henham Park ten minutes ago and came empty handed.  None of their instruments deigned to suffer the stench of Latitude so they’re having to borrow everything off the Cold War Kids and Andrew Bird.

It shows.  The band look ravaged and uneasy with their purloined Orchestra.  There are great songs in there somewhere; ‘Mistaken for Strangers’ (from their latest album ‘Boxer’), ‘Karen’ (off of ‘Songs for Dirty Lovers’) and ‘Mr November’ (from ‘Alligator’) but there is no subtlety to the sound.  Lyrical contributions from keyboards and violins that make the albums so symphonic and full are totally swamped by the guitars.  Lines like ‘I used to be carried in the arms of a cheerleader’ or ‘The English are coming!’ should by rights swell this audience to a festival frenzy and the lead singer is trying hard.  He rasps ‘I won’t fuck us over!’ with a kind of tortured mania that seems ironically relevant to the shitty day they’re having but it feels like a bit of a lost cause.  Two songs from the end of this too-short set they kick into ‘Fake Empire’ and it’s almost like they get their conviction back.  I get goose bumps with the rhythmic build and the crowd responds, maybe they’ve just warmed up?!  Well they have, but now they’ve got to get off; ‘Thank you very much! I’m glad we got here because half an hour ago it looked like we wouldn’t make it’.  I feel cheated.

The Cold War Kids do well next and The Rapture, like CSS last night, provide a poptastic interlude which the crowds devour.  I sense that a lot of people are getting a bit tired of some of the slightly dour singer-song writing going on and want a sugar rush.  ‘Get myself into it’ and ‘Whoo!  Alright-Yeah… Uh’ do the job and you have to hand it to them, Matt Safer and Luke Jenner know how to handle their audience.  They tease us by walking on and off stage, bounce off each other vocally and insist on being resiliently up beat. 

Jarvis Cocker is on stage next as the sun begins to sink and if you haven’t been able to make it to the Comedy tent, Jarvis provides plenty of star cabaret.  Again, however, there is the sense that everyone would probably rather be watching Pulp, just as last night they would have much preferred Blur to the drones of Damon and his crew.  But Jarvis encapsulated his previous band more singularly than Damon ever did, so if you close your eyes you can almost daydream that…

‘I stand astride these two monitors like the Rock Colossus that I am’, claims the lanky one as he bemuses the crowd with surreal commentaries on the weather.  He then gains our instant favour by empathising with the epic efforts required to have got this far into the Festival.  ‘The world is still run by cunts’, brings his set to an end and those of us who weren’t expecting much are impressed by a run of songs which have never been less than engaging.  Just as I finish clapping and start to, mentally prepare myself for the festival finale with the Arcade Fire, Jarvis reappears;

‘We were going to end there but I just want to play you one more song which I promise this band will never play again’. 

‘What?  A golden slice of Pulp!’, the crowd wonders eagerly, ‘Common People’, ‘Disco 2000’?!…

‘It’s called, the Eye of the Tiger’.

‘What?’

And so off they go.  Jarvis and his band play themselves out with a sparkling cover of Eye of the Tiger and the exhausted crowd smile and cheer their appreciation.

If day one had been all about Wilco, then I guess the whole festival was really about the Sunday night headliners.  I’m sure that anyone reading this would probably take the credit for introducing their friends to the Arcade Fire, probably the most exciting band in the world at present.  But to find yourself in a field with 20,000 people equally convinced that the band are their own private discovery, throws you a little.

The scene is set with a great red velvet backdrop, several oversized Victorian camera props onto which are projected surreal faces in black and white and a lot of red neon.  Tantalizingly the stage is covered with all manner or paraphernalia; hurdy-gurdies, cymbals and the pipes of a great organ.  In the hands of an army of musicians each gets its moment in the limelight during a performance which just keeps getting better.

The husband and wife pairing of Win Butler and Regine Chassagne take it in turns to lead the way on a comprehensive journey through their two albums, Neon Bible and Funeral.  From the pounding urgency of ‘No cars go’ to the swelling Mariachi trumpets of ‘Ocean of Noise’ there is no escaping the band’s persistent inventiveness and passion.  Highlights were aplenty but the Bruce Springsteen coloured tracks ‘Antichrist Television Blues’ and ‘Keep the car running’ were blistering.  Projected onto the backdrop was footage taken from a camera apparently embedded in the snare drum.  Watching a giant drummer beating the rhythm out so relentlessly was mesmerising as the music continued to build, crescendoing in the ‘Power out’ and as a finale, ‘Rebellion (Lies)’.  As the performance came to a close fireworks showered over the back of the audience and someone lit a series of paper lanterns that billowed softly up into the night sky.  The band seemed just as entranced by the moment as they looked out over 20,000 arms clapping in time to the music; ‘Every time you close your eyes’ they sang but we didn’t dare.

If I’m honest I’d have to say that Butler’s voice repeatedly got lost in the roar of the music and I found myself anxious that he was straining to meet the range which his songs demanded in a live performance.  Perhaps I was just distracted by the tuneless moron next to me who insisted on droning loudly and inanely along with the music: and there are a lot of opportunities to accompany the songs of the Arcade Fire with a choice bit of off-key humming. 

Latitude 2007 will be the first and last festival I ever attend.  Three days of crowds, camping and mountains of faeces, book ended by two fantastic performances by Wilco and the genius of Arcade Fire.  If anything it has convinced me to spend a lot more time in the Shepherd’s Bush Empire enjoying whole-hearted performances by some of the great bands who were compromised by poor organisation and shorter sets.  To my mind learning that may have made the whole experience worth it.

Overall experience - 2
Music in general - 3.5
Arcade fire and Wilco - 4.

#Music
#Gig
#LG

19th Jul 2007 - 2 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

(dir.David Yates)

Another thoroughly enjoyable school year from the muggles, mudbloods and wizards of Hogwarts. Doesn't top the Prisoner Of Azkaban for style, but if you've enjoyed the first four, this doesn't disappoint.

This time round, Harry's dealing with being attacked in the media, who along with Robert Hardy's uptight Ministry of Magic, refuse to believe that Voldemort has returned. At school, he's getting bullied by both pupils and the new Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher, Imelda Staunton. She's perfectly cast as the weak-tea sipping Dolores Umbridge, as evil as Voldemort in her own prim and proper way, edging her way to the top of the Hogwarts ladder with an endless stream of nit-picking rules.

If you've read the book, there's a lot to get through, and that's perhaps the only problem here - at times you can feel that it's a very abriged version; that said, it still works, really only cutting a lot of the repetition that JK Rowling uses to draw you into the school year. There's no quidditch match, which is fine, some fun scenes with Dumbledore's Army trying to summon up their Patronuses, and sweeping scenes of the English countryside matched by a few London flyovers which give it a real sense of place. Could have done with a touch more of the scene where Harry sees into Snape's mind and watches his memories of school, but other than that, most of the key moments are included.

The three main kids, Daniel Radcliffe, Rupert Grint and Emma Watson, are all improving as they get older (just hope they manage to film the last 2 before they get too old for the teen roles). And again, it's an exercise in watching the cream of British actors - Helena Bonham Carter, Gary Oldman, Richard Griffiths, Brendan Gleeson, Ralph Fiennes, David Thewlis, Maggie Smith, Julie Walters, Jason Isaacs, Alan Rickman, Emma Thompson, Robbie Coltrane etc... you'd feel pretty annoyed if you didn't get the call, really.

#Film
#chimp71

4th Jul 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet

Transformers

(dir.Michael Bay)

Dreamworks

After their planet is ravaged by civil war, two warring factions of shape-shifting robots arrive on earth in search of a digital rubik's-cube gizmo with the power to turn ordinary electrical appliances into all consuming monster robots. The Decepticons are led by the evil Megatron, who was discovered frozen in the ice by troubled geeky teen Shia La Beouf's grandfather. Luckily he's just bought a new car that turns out to be one of the friendly Autobots who are here to save us - led by the articulated lorry-esque Optimus Prime.

As a kid you would probably shit bricks at how cool the robots are in this movie, but as an adult it's like watching a 120 minute trailer that shows all the best bits. An experience not too dissimilar to lying down on a motorway being run over constantly. The premise is thinner than Highlander II, with very little explanation for why the robots can assume some shapes they like, but don't bother at other times - when being a steam roller might be more useful than being a cool little dune-buggy.

Hollywood heavyweight/lifecoach Michael Bay adds his usual flair, taking his cue from the George Lucas school of film making - where you can't see the CGI because it's all CGI, and it works pretty seamlessly. There are some great sequences and effects - notably the helicopter-bot assassin that attacks the US Army a couple of times in an attempt to steal their bandwidth or something.

It's a fun ride, so don't take my cynical opinion on it all. I was always more of a Lego fan.

#Film
#CSF

25th Jun 2007 - 3 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

The White Stripes

Icky Thump

XL Recordings

After the success of Jack White's near-permanent side-project of last year took off, the rumours flew that The White Stripes were to be no more. Only a fool would fall for that gag though, especially from a band that has a history of telling fibs and only needs a few days to record a new album. They spent a whopping 3 weeks recording this one, and it shows.

Lead single Icky Thump follows the method we've seen before of a banging radio friendly single that's track one on the album, but if I'm honest it hasn't had as much impact on me as either Seven Nation Army or Blue Orchid did. However, where those two tracks seemed like the only track on each album of that ilk, Icky Thump does sit in with things here more harmoniously.

Judging by the suits on the cover there's more than a nod to Gram Parsons and Emmylou going on here. You Don't Know What Love Is sees Jack White taking his lessons from The Raconteurs and creating an FM friendly 80's rock track.... with a touch of country. It's straightforward, but immediately engaging, oozing with personality. The production quality is definitely up on their previous efforts, which has a always been a bug-bear of mine. I never understood why using vintage equipment shouldn't result in such basics as a consistent volume level.... The Beatles and The BEach Boys always managed OK.

While the production quality may be up, the inconsistency is present in the style of the songwriting which seems to never offer the same idea twice. There seems to be few common threads running through the themes of the songs, and it very much sounds like a compilation album. 300 M.P.H. Torrential Outpour Blues is a heavy-handed down beat number, with vaguely obnoxious guitars. Conquest is a cover of Corky Robbins, complete with Mexican trumpets. Prickly Thorn makes an impression with it's infusion of bagpipes, although it leads into St. Andrew (This Battle Is In The Air), which unfortunately hides Meg's vocal contribution in cut-up tape tricks. Great title though.

Things sound tired with Little Cream Soda's rambling jam with chat. The focus seems to have been lost and the stop/start dynamic of this track and Rag and Bone in particular is already sounding a little tired - although Jack's line about "doghouse, outhouse and ...." show that he's obviously a Tommy Lee Jones fan.

I'm Slowly Turning Into You and A Martyr For My Love For You form a great centerpiece to the album - finally something a bit more serious, sitting somewhere between the outstanding musical edge of the The White Stripes and the more straightforward style of The Raconteurs. They seem much more thought out and complete than a lot of the album, and give the ever present glimpse of what a great album the band could make if they cut their output level by three and harnessed more of their live brilliance on their records.

#Music
#CSF

23rd Jun 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet

The Young Gods

Super Ready/Fragmente

Play It Again Sam

I‘ll hold my hands up and confess to not knowing a great deal about The Young Gods, which is surprising as apparently the Swiss group, formed in 1985, were a huge influence on bands such as Tool, Ministry and Nine Inch Nails.  But then maybe that's not all that surprising as those forementioned groups and their Industrial chums never really did it for me.

Apparently, The Young Gods are quite the visionaries, forever looking to reinvent their music.  Impressive then, in a Back to the Future kind of way, that new album Super Ready / Fragmenté sounds well and truly stuck in the early 1990’s.  All big-but-forgettable guitars, reverbed vocals sung with a clipped neutral European accent (or in French for the teeth-aching C’est Quoi C’est Ça) the odd Sitar now and again...  Maybe I’m missing something huge, but the whole experience just washes by, enducing nothing more than a shrug of the shoulders. Not that front man Franz Treichler would be bothered, he seems quite the optimist as he sings this eurovision-esque couplet on opener I’m the Drug.

“We’ve got dreams to share. lots of love to spare.”  OK. Goodnight.

#Music
#chimpovich

18th May 2007 - 2 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

El-P

I'll Sleep When You're Dead

Def Jux

2007, and The El-P show is in town once again and as usual it's tooled up ready for an all out assault on just about anything. It's hard to believe that this is only the second full length from the Def Jux label boss as he has been widely regarded as the unofficial king of the underground for a decade now.

It's been almost 5 years since the awesome Fantastic Damage and all the events both artistic and political that have occurred for El-P during this time have left their mark on this record. He has crossed musical paths with a whole host of artists over the years and the result is an album packed full of guest contributions by the likes of Cat Power, Mars Volta and NIN's Trent Reznor. Refreshingly though, none of these are mentioned as 'featuring' on the track-list as explained eloquently here by the man himself. "It's the Southpark theory: When George Clooney appeared on Southpark, it was as a gay dog. That's the type of shit that makes my day." He also delivered 2004's Blue Series fringe jazz project High Water which just contributes to the ever widening artistic pallet of this man.

El-P's political leanings are slightly less tangable. He sure ain't no Republican, but his venomous world view is disguised so expertly in the abstract lyrics that the general feeling of rage and well placed, intelligent scorn is a whole lot more powerful than direct spitting. But where this record differs from it's predecessor is in scale. Politically the world is a very different place now compared to 2002 and though Fantastic Damage was a pretty angry record, this one seems to have a much larger agenda . If his debut was the venting of personal hatred the followup is global and from the outset it's awesomely clear that El Producto is definitely back up in this ma fucka.

Tasmanian Pain Coaster starts things off on a scale that is rarely matched  on the rest of the record. It's big and it's scary. It's the sound of an army stamping its steel toe-capped boots to the beat, the looped piano is a call to arms. This opener is the unequivocal sound of a disaffected people marching to war and they march here in awesome numbers and with a power that is breathtaking. With Mars Volta and Matt Sweeney adding guitars to this melting pot of rage this is a force to be reckoned with. The unique thing about any record by El-P is it's ambiguity and irony. You never know when he's being serious or not. After this opener comes to an end and every hair on your body is tingling from a mixture of fear and excitement he starts the next song with the words "Bring me the dramatic intro machine," rendering this huge beginning mere irony and any power you drew from it now makes you feel a bit stupid and gullible. This is both annoying and impressive. It makes you wake up and realise that you're not listening to a normal hip hop record that can be allowed to wash over you with head nodding beats and empty lyrics. This is different and should be questioned at all times and it certainly isn't about to give up the booty this early on in the date.

So on we tread with our feet firmly on the ground. EMG uses a classic "Rock The Bells" beat and in it's Hip Hop hall of fame name-checking we see more of El-P's irony being exorcised on his very own genre. Drive sees El at his lyrical best. Using the car metaphor he gives a pretty bleak outlook on the world today. Starting with the lyric "C'mon Ma, can I borrow the keys, my generation's car-pooling with doom and disease," everything from "Jesus of Nascarith" to Falujah is put through this metaphor, and it's awesome. Flyentology creatively describes the new religion of doomed air travel, "faith v's physics," describing a plummeting plane as "the vessel of my awakening."

The album is put to bed with El-P's dystopian lullaby with Cat Power on backing vocals. Throughout this seven minute closer the beat oozes the boom of apocalyptic doom, the layered production and non-stop rhyming is very claustrophobic until everything is wiped away leaving a dirty looped beat to see us through to the end. The delicate keyboard that rides this beat  seems to lull us to sleep, but I fear it's the sleep of the dead not the peaceful.

#Music
#HHG

4th Apr 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet

Amon Tobin

Foley Room

A foley room is a place where sound effects are recorded for films. It's totally soundproof, clinical, methodical and has an eerie sense of lifelessness - except for the strange sounds that are produced there. This goes some way to describe the latest album by Ninja Tune's maestro of sound manipulation Amon Tobin. Tobin's previous work was entirely constructed from found sounds, but his sources were usually vinyl. Foley Room sees Tobin turn a corner in his compositional process and the entire album is created from recorded sounds both in the foley room using manipulated instruments and also from street life, zoo life and just about anything you can think of that makes a noise.

Of course, this has all been done before - but Tobin's unique methods and musical understanding make this a truly engaging listening experience. This record crawls, oozes, slithers, crashes, scrapes and sometimes pummels it's way through your head in much the same way that every Tobin record does, but this seems to be a lot more focused. It's a predominantly beat driven record, but the sources of these beats are so expertly masked that your ear soon stops trying to identify recognisable sounds and just allows itself to be taken over by the other-worldly quality of the sound. And this other world is no jolly romp in fields of poppies. Tobin's soundscapes are always ominous and this is no exception. The beats often seem to be created by an army of insects and the orchestral sounds that underlie all this invoke visions of impending doom. Though named after a room devoid of atmosphere, this album is all about atmosphere. It has the feeling of a soundtrack and is incredibly visual.

And talking of visuals, the LP comes with a 20 minute documentary about the making of the record and really helps to explain the process. We see Amon and his team take to the streets with highly sensitive recording equipment and dig out the tools with which this record is constructed. He visits motorbike garages, CD production factories and even a safari park where he records all manner of wildlife. Classical strings and drums are used in the foley room, but are manipulated and reconstructed through the sampling process. Peanuts are scattered on bass drums and drum kits are forged out of metal bowls of various fullness bobbing around in water pools. The interesting thing is seeing all this and Tobin crouched, headphone clad, next to the tracks as a train roars past and then listening to the record and seeing how these recordings have been used to create the most remarkable textures and how some really beautiful music has been born out of this apparent chaos.

#Music
#BC

6th Mar 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet

Cadence Weapon

Breaking Kayfabe

Upper Class Recordings

Imagine if you can: it's the year 2040 and the music scene is in a state of crisis. RnB rules the charts and is all that's allowed to be played on the radio. Since the earliy naughties the hip hop section of the record store became known as 'Urban' and most rap albums had to incorporate some form of RnB just to make sales. Artists such as Common and Kanye West who were targeted by the RnB militia to spread this evil seed in the hip hop community eventually buckled under the pressure and stopped recording altogether. Rumor has it that Common was set to release an album called Strictly Hip Hop but it never saw the light of day due to death threats to his family. So the genre formerly known as Hip Hop disappeared from the public's view completely. But an underground resistance refused to die out and continued to filter quality beats to those in need. There was a great war and the resistance was nearly quashed so in order to put an end to this they developed a group of cyborgs known as The Anti Pop Consortium and sent them back to the year 1985. Their mission was to kill a little boy called Craig David who would go on to popularize RnB in Europe. The mission was accomplished but unfortunately made absolutely no difference to the future at all. The resistance analyzed the growth of RnB and noticed that instead of it being attributed to the evil of one person it was born out of the apathy and boredom of the world at large. So a new plan was formed and a new cyborg crafted, better, stronger, faster. His name was Cadence Weapon.

Canada was selected as the best place to start this attack as the glare of the RnB Eye was firmly focused on America and Britain. Sent back to the year 2005 he unleashed his first wave of destruction, a devastating mixtape called Cadence Weapon Is The Black Hand and then so as not to give the RnB militia time to recover he hit them again in 2006 with Breaking Kayfabe, a collection of hip hop cuts so strong and so forceful that it sent shock waves throughout the world. Breaking Kayfabe (Kayfabe being the Resistance code for RnB scum) was designed using the original blue prints of The Anti Pop Consortium mission. The sound was hard and electronic so as to allow no fertile ground for the RnB 'Good Singing' germ to grow. This new model of machine was equipped with enough skills to become a one man army and the whole Breaking Kayfabe project was crafted by Cadence Weapon himself, from the sterile, impenetrable and chest-stomping beats to the venomous lyrics spat out with such force and machine-like precision.

For a while the enemy was crippled due to the force of this attack but they soon regrouped and retaliated with a double fist. Both Lamar and Usher released records of such dazzling vocal beauty that the world was gripped by their evil tales of perfect love making. Luckily Cadence Weapon's arrival was strong enough to wake many hip hop warriors, including Busta Rhymes and LL Cool J, from their RnB sleep and the war was won. RnB was forever kept under wraps being confined to young girls and those genuinely gifted at love making. There was a brief uprising in France but that was no biggy.

The facts: Cadence Weapon is 19, from Canada and this album is really, really good. Best bits: Oliver Square, Black Hand and 30 Seconds. There's no stopping this kid, it's what he does, it's all he does.

#Music
#HHG

1st Nov 2006 - 3 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Bruce Springsteen

The Seeger Sessions: We Shall Overcome (American Land Edition)

Since making it big in 1975 with his third album Born To Run, Bruce Springsteen has had the artistic luxury of rarely releasing a record with the same sound as his last. The Seeger Sessions is no exception. A folk record, this is the first covers album The Boss has ever done. Based on the tracks recorded and popularised by Pete Seeger in the 40s, 50s and 60s the album was recorded with a large ensemble of musicians over two days, and as a result the album has a very live feel. Although this reviewer is not overly familiar with Pete Seeger's music, most tracks on this release have a familiar sound and feeling, as if perhaps we all used to sing them back in our school days.

Things kick off with the snappy and enticing banjo chords of Old Dan Tucker. This is one that would certainly get people to their feet at the hoe down. Springsteen's banjo and gravelly vocals sit perfectly alongside the bass and rythms of the big band. Next up is Jesse James the tale of Jesse James and his murder by The Coward Robert Ford. The band keep tempo with Springsteen's quick story telling developing into some saloon bar accordian.

The album moves on with much variation in tracks from the Seeger catalogue. Mrs McGrath tells the story of the mother of a son badly wounded during the civil war, their woes being spelt out with a strong fiddle accompanyment. O Mary Don't You Weep takes turns to faith and the story of Moses and Pharohs army drowning at the parting of the Red Sea. Pay Me My Money Down was sung by black ship workers when captains tried to slip out of harbour without paying them, and the title track We Shall Overcome reflects Springsteen's active criticism of the current US political regime as a famous song sung around the world in political protest for justice and equality.

This edition varies on the original April release with the addition of five extra tracks, the strongest of which Froggie Went A Courtin, and the excellent American Land, recorded live in front of a New York audience. However, all additional tracks are up to the quality of the original release and there is a sense that the back catalogue was there to produce many more tracks to this high standard.

This is not an album that you will play repeatedly, but like Springsteen's other more adventurous projects you will return to it again and again at times when something a little different is what's required.

#Music
#CJ

19th Oct 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

Tortoise

A Lazarus Taxon

Some bands never put a foot wrong. Whether it's a perfectly pitched new album, a superb accompanying book, or a zeitgeist-defining DVD they get everything right.

Tortoise might well be one of those bands. With this 3 CD+DVD box set, the Chicago band collect together 12 years of rarities, b-sides, remixes and live material - as well as numerous promo videos and some live footage - all superbly presented in this box set with artwork by retired Swiss policeman Arnold Odermatt.

Where oddities and rarities often make for a patchy album at best, Tortoise manage to hold steady over three CDs without ever feeling like we're being fed scraps and left-overs.

The first two discs compile 25 tracks from Japanese issues, compilations, promotional 7" singles and more. The opening 12 minute Gamera is superb - a drastic reworking His Second Story Island from the debut Tortoise album. Gamera is then re-worked itself later on - now called Goiriri. David Pajo's composition Vaus also stands out, as does promo 7" track Madison Area - all using sublime instrumentals to creat a moody, atmospheric landscape.

For disc three this compilation manages to avoid the pitfalls of some compilations and keep even the remixes on-message. Following the release of their debut album, the band asked some friends to provide remixes - which became long-out-of-print album Rhythms, Resolutions & Clusters - included here in it's entirety. Generally avoiding the "Blah Blah (Ho Hum Remix)" path, most of these are re-built as completely new tracks - often with new titles. Steve Albini, Jim O'Rourke and Mike Watt are amongst the chefs - with Watt and Kira Roeseler adding some Dos bass to extra bonus track Cornpone Brunch.

Like the 4 sided double album ("let's play disc 2, side 1") before it, even a 3CD set is condensed into one, long digital playlist these days. Although 33 songs, 3CDs or 2.9 hours is certainly a lot to cover there's barely a moment to rest and like Fugazi, Wilco, Radiohead no record collection is complete without some Tortoise - and this might well be the place to start.

#Music
#CSF

17th Oct 2006 - Add Comment - Tweet

X-Men 3: The Last Stand

(dir. Brett Ratner)

When a scientist disovers a "cure" for mutancy, the government thinks it's a good thing. Understandably, the X-Men aren't too thrilled. Neither are Magneto and his gang. Everyone fights.

Very disappointing way to round up this trilogy. Loved the first two, thought they were one of the best comics-to-films translations - smart, well-shot, focused films with something to say. This one takes most of the same characters, adds in a few new ones (Beast, Angel, Callisto), then reimagines the whole thing as an 80s TV movie. Cheesy storyline, lame dialogue, pointless stunts and lots of messy explosions - nothing comes close to the fluidity of the X2 opening action with Nightcrawler for example (and he's wisely chosen not to show up).

Jean Grey returns to stand around a lot as Phoenix while everyone wonders, ooh, is she bad or good? The army don't seem to be that bothered about the mutants anymore so they're not in it much. Halle Berry's Storm seems to have developed a Wonder Woman-like ability to spin around quite fast. The big action scene, in which Magneto moves the Golden Gate Bridge over to Alcatraz could have been one of those "wow" moments, until you think: hang on, what's the point of doing when you've got lots of dudes in your evil gang who could just fly you over?

Frasier as Beast is quite fun, but it's an underwritten role; Hugh Jackman's Wolverine gets less to do here as well. A flashback scene with Magneto and Xavier meeting a young Jean Grey is quite good, and features the obligatory Stan Lee cameo. There's also a cameo from Shohreh "Beyrooooz!" Aghdashloo (aka Dina Araz from 24 day four).

There's a really dumb extra scene after some dull credits if you feel like dragging it out for even longer - yes, they're leaving it "open-ended" so it might not really be the Last Stand after all.

Overall verdict? suX

#Film
#chimp71

26th May 2006 - 2 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

Pearl Jam

Pearl Jam

Pearl Jam have a knack of sounding like a muscle car cruising down an empty road in Montana. Masters of the key/pace change, they often shift up and down gears, speeding up and slowing down but always sticking to the road.

While Life Wasted and World Wide Suicide are great openers (except for the title "World Wide Suicide" - definitely a case for 'keep the title out of the lyrics') rocking all the shift change tricks, it's not until six songs in that we get a real change of style - with Parachutes. Similar in tone to the Stones' track of the same name, this great little number is much more in the vein of 1996's No Code.

Things get more more varied on what would have been side two in the vinyl days, with Gone being the gem on the album. It's Pearl Jam at their best, using a simple quiet start to build up the emotion and sound into an awesome wall of noise.

Army Reserve is one song that doesn't quite click, somehow sounding like the U2-style jangling guitar was written separately from the lyrics, but the album finishes with two excellent tracks. Come Home sounds like a cover of a lost classic by Smokey Robinson or Otis Redding and is the band at their best. Inside Job, written by guitarist Mike McCready, is a moody slow burner. Staying just the right side of Dire Straits, the song would fit well on a movie soundtrack and brings the album to a worthy close.

The album is definitely a democratic effort and the input of the entire band leans the sound down the more conventional end of the Pearl Jam spectrum - generally sounding more like Yield or Riot Act than Vitalogy or No Code. That's never a criticism with these guys however and although not as lyrical as some of their work it's a solid, thoroughly enjoyable rock album from a band totally assured of their craft.

#Music
#CSF

25th Apr 2006 - 2 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

The White Stripes

Alexandra Palace, London

People have been banging on about the White Stripes since way back when The Strokes were just a glint in Albert Hammond Snr's eye. It was only recently that I fully clicked with them being any good - with the song As Ugly As I Seem. Sure, Seven Nation Army is great, but the whole it's-recorded-on-genuine-analogue-equipement-that's-why-it-sounds-badly-produced vibe never did it for me. Pet Sounds, or Houses Of The Holy managed to get their levels right.

Anyway, suffice to say that when they are playing live, the whole recording/production thing becomes old news - as it's all the same volume, right in front of you. And it's LOUD. Who would have though that a guitar and drums could make such a thundering racket. 'Especially with (ahem) a girl hitting the skins'.

Jack White is a genuine band leader with a huge stage presence, and while he stomps around bossing Meg about, you do get the feeling it's just for show and the band really is equally indebted to both him and Meg. Her relentless, basic, pounding drumming really creates an atmosphere while he swaps guitars, tinkles on the piano or organ, and plays the Xylophone.

Yes, Blue Orchid and Seven Nation Army were stomping highlights, but tough versions of the Hardest Button To Button and Fell In love With A Girl also stood out, plus Meg singing on Passive Manipulation, the infectious simplicity of My Doorbell, or the superb Xylophone tune The Nurse and the sing-along (chorus only, see below) I Just Don't Know What To Do With Myself.

Only downside was way too many people (8000+?), and a slight sense that the band had got too big too quick. While everyone new the tunes when Jack held up the mike for a sing-a-long, no one actually new the words...

CORRECTION: Jack White plays a marimba not a xylophone. They are similar, but the xylophone has a more harsh sound and doesn't have resonators. It's absolutely a marimba on the album. - CN

#Music
#Gig
#CSF

15th Nov 2005 - Add Comment - Tweet