Album Review: These New Puritans - Field Of Reeds

You asked if the islands

would float away,

if the stars run through me

like a river, like the air:

I said "yes".

I keep returning to the idea of a small island mentality. Forgive me; I didn't wish to begin another review with the same, half-formed lecture. There's certainly more to being British than this identity, but it's one that leans into offering an interpretation to the handful of themes presented on this new album by These New Puritans, Field Of Reeds. I don't wish to push this idea into the spotlight for very long, especially as it's not one I necessarily take; indeed the album seems to be one guided much more closely by expression than rationality or sensibility; lyrics are presented often as statements rather than rhymes, and their true meanings, if any, may be completely hidden (to borrow the title of the group's 2010 record) to the outside spectator. However, consider this passage from "Spiral", the album's fifth and mathematically central track:

Watch the fireworks from the beach

I've got meteors falling to earth

Presumably, it's a nighttime scene. The first line is picturesque, reminiscent of a film or novel, probably of main songwriter Jack Barnett's hometown of Southend-on-Sea. The "fireworks" of the first line are overtaken by "meteors" in the second, Barnett's own brilliant, passionate lights introducing chaos to the controlled, tranquil darkness.

On Field Of Reeds Jack Barnett is Cnut, his - I'll say it - magical approach to making music is the equivalent of waiting in front of approaching tides and commanding natural phenomena as if they were his own. Far from an omnipotent magus, as the record unfolds it feels as if the already dour, monotonous Barnett actually loses confidence in his abilities, as if in the knowledge that though no matter what complexities civilizations of the land develop eventually fiery rocks from space will fall from the sky, and waves of endless seawater will wash them all away, creating fertile conditions for wetland plants. It's not difficult to chart this idea across These New Puritans' musical evolution. The already alluded-to Hidden is a complete contrast in style, production and delivery, yet despite a redundant cliché to note at this late stage that album contained seeds of what this one grew into, even if those seeds were incubated a little differently than expected. No one could accuse These New Puritans of sounding like The Fall any more, for example; neither Aphex Twin or The Wu-Tang Clan. It would be a disservice to compare them to any musical figures cited as influences. Not that it's assured that the trio have stepped onto entirely uncharted musical territory, but it's no stretch to say that Field Of Reeds is unlike anything in British independent rock in 2013. Let's not even entertain the comparison.

Instead, now that I've properly managed to wedge my foot in the door of this review I'm going to detail and evaluate Field Of Reeds, predictably, chronologically. It seems the sensible option, being that the album is split into three sections of three tracks each, plus that means I can write whilst listening to it in order (but that's neither here nor there). There is a danger in this approach to spoil the enjoyment of a first listen, so if you haven't done so yet I'd strongly suggest you scroll down to the Soundcloud player before reading any further.

The first sound on the record is a piano, maybe even the magnetic resonator piano, a new instrument that colours much of Field Of Reeds. It proves to be a smart choice for Barnett, who has only recently learned to read sheet music, as on this first track he fumbles minor key variations around two chords without the need for indulgent embellishments. Plus the instrument's tone, and even its name suggest something unusual and metallic working beneath its familiar timbre. However the main focus of this opener is the apparent "field recording" of a singing woman, a loose a capella of the Burt Bacharach and Hal David-penned "This Guy's In Love With You". The vocal, heavy with reverb, is difficult to make out, and soon a lone trumpet replaces Barnett's piano, joined by a swelling of strings in its final third. A particularly striking element here, and indeed on many points of the album, is the guttural, ominous bass tones, presently only hinted but used to much more forceful effect later on.

Next is the single "Fragment Two", given the hindsight of the full album the only "fragment" that could be so. Even then it's something of a peculiarity; the somewhat upbeat, neat piano phrase quickly offset by the introduction of Barnet's monotone, throaty vocal. This track is one of maybe only three (by my count) that feature any form of regular drumming, all of which occur in the first half of the record, easing the listener up for the freer, melody-driven tracks that function as the majority. It's worth mentioning the quality of the production especially in relation to drum sounds. It's hard to tell whether these drums, played elegantly by Barnett's brother George, are acoustic or electronic; on "Fragment Two" and later "V (Island Song)" they have a satisfying, crisp sound in the treble register; a complete departure from the warlike snares, toms and Japanese taiko on the percussion-heavy Hidden that suggest, but aren't necessarily indebted to, the presence of outside co-producer Graham Sutton (of Bark Psychosis). Here too, another collaborator is introduced, namely Portuguese fado singer Elisa Rodrigues, who contributes vocals to much of the album. On "Fragment Two" she is relegated to a backing harmony during the final minute. It is a relief, however, to hear Barnett's own multitracked vocals swooping over his own funereal arrangement of piano, horns, organ and breaking glass; especially given that they're symbolic of a retraction of a previous statement that he was going to give up singing all together. It would have been hazardous to Field Of Reeds if he had done; even if his voice is technically unremarkable it has such an unusual, seductive timbre that it would be difficult to imagine the album without it.



Closing the album's first movement is "The Light In Your Name", the longest track so far. It's lyrics are more narrative than elsewhere on the album; the open-ended lines, such as "Your clothes without you in them", combine with low, sustained strings and piano notes to create a palpable sense of threat, that becomes more and more unbearable as shards of electronics interfere spontaneously and temporarily. Barnett's voice also intensifies, the rasp of his throat struggling above his limited range on the refrain for which the soft, effortless Rodrigues serves as a brilliant foil. George's drums eventually burst forth and would consume the piece whole if not for the singers' willingness to combat them with a rare, confident harmonised crescendo of their own. This being the conclusion to only the first movement (and first side of vinyl), and less than fifteen minutes into the album, serves as a powerful initiation. Similarly the central cluster of tracks provide the album with a brilliant, intricate core.

The second movement begins as unassuming (yet by this stage reassuring) as the first; Jack Barnett toying with a rising and falling piano phrase with choral backing. It only takes a minute or so for his left and right hands to loosen and start wondering in different directions. He is quickly joined by organ and drums, initiating the brilliant momentum that bodies "V (Island Song)". Little else is needed to make the track's nine minutes some of the most captivating on Field Of Reeds, save for the delightfully somber strings which dampen the second half of the piece like rain, turning it into a freer, if rhythmically rigid performance. Descriptions don't really do "V (Island Song)" justice: it feels too self-contained for that. Jack Barnett's piano phrase, and brother George's drums perpetuate whole worlds unto themselves.

"Spiral" follows. Its cataclysmic theme begins before Barnett's lyrical address; steady, descending brass and unfathomable, horrifyingly deep choral voices - the lowest provided by Adrian Peacock, owner of the deepest voice in Britain - immediately contrast all else which preceded it. These voices sound barely human at all, and call into memory Shadow Of The Colossus, an old videogame where the only inhabitants of a forgotten world are impossibly large black monsters that writhe in terrible pain when attacked by the player. Elisa Rodrigues leads a choir of children amidst Barnett's Cnutian chaos; bound together by song as if on scorched earth. All of this should sound ridiculous, yet contains the right amount of control for it to match Barnett's intentions. A woodwind section that brings the track to a close, unaccompanied by any of the shattering instrumentation that set it up, only reinforces this point.



Field Of Reeds' intensity, creative scope, and above all abundant quality have been assured several times over before "Organ Eternal". The record's potential to impose, often from the unusual quiet and sinister uses of grandiose instruments, is replicated on the titular introductory organ; its fledgling part akin to classical minimalism. Overall this is a calmer and less involving piece, settling instead on being "merely" gorgeous. It's not easy to dislike it, especially when more masterfully arranged strings are brought in. There isn't a spot on Field Of Reeds that isn't musically rich or uncaptivating.

If the tryptich structure of the record would have you believe that the third suite represents the arrival of the conclusion, and a steady rolling off of quality; the reality is more gratifying. "Nothing Else" is one of the album's longest pieces, reminiscent of "The Light In Your Name" with Barnett and Rodrigues's lead vocal overlaps replicating the exchanges of reality and fantasies of dreams. However the arrangement of strings and woodwind, assisted by Hans Ek, stays anchored to the ground; its organic shape giving it an almost cerebral quality that's well suited to the subject. It precedes "Dream", a relatively short and straightforward interlude, evolving the lyrical themes of its predecessor. These tracks are certainly calmer and more "sensible" than anything after "This Guy's In Love With You". This change of mood eases Field Of Reeds into its farewell, the incendiary title track.

"Field Of Reeds" most closely resembles "Spiral", with the choir of children replaced with one of men; Peacock's volcanic depths clearly distinguishable among them. Maybe not since Björk's Medulla has there been such a reminder of the incredible potency of stark human voices. Emotion is only heightened when Barnett's own voice, raw and unrefined as it is, whittles off a disparaging three-note ditty barely formed before leaving his mouth, closing the album in the same way as is started. For These New Puritans, "Field Of Reeds" is unparalleled in sheer affectation; as drained of hope and light as Joaquin Phoenix's face at the end of last year's The Master. If a tear doesn't roll down your cheek you're much hardier than me. It's a long ending, a temporal analogy of loss; of nature, of communication, of spirituality, of humanity itself. These New Puritans and their collaborators convey this despair so beautifully that it flexes itself back around to an emotionally complex lift; the territory of post rock and goth rock that only very lightly colour the album. A wonderful, monolithic album, you really have to find your own way through it. It will be here forever.

Album Review: My Bloody Valentine - m b v

Whatever way you look at it, I really don't need to do this review. The Metacritic page for m b v, the new album from shoegaze pioneers and critic/fan faves My Bloody Valentine currently hosts 44 professional reviews, none of which rank the album below 6/10, and there have been innumerable other professional, semi-pro and in particular fan-written and videoed (see YouTube) insights into this critical hallowed ground. My two cents aren't going to be particularly gripping, or notable, or controversial. But here goes.

When the superlative-enticting Loveless, what was thought for years to be the last My Bloody Valentine album there'd ever be, was released on pre-Oasis Creation Records in 1991, I had yet to be born. So I'm not able or willing to approach this review from any substantial point of longing or nostalgia, or weightily fluctuate between belief and doubt in the skills and intentions of one of modern music's least understood reclusive geniuses; in short, no 22-year wait for me. This idea seems to be the first thing many of these reviews contain. Forgive me for deconstructing a little further, but the other main attribute to these pieces is their willingness to tell the reader a story, as the event that happened to them, in many cases less than a day before publication, needs to be framed as a highly significant cultural event. Do these people imagine that when people bring up the questions "where were you when the Twin Towers collapsed?" or "where were you when the Berlin Wall came down?", they'll be able to pipe in with "what do you remember about when that My Bloody Valentine album crashed the internet and we all sat there clicking the Refresh button waiting to get onto the site at midnight?"?

Of course I'm exaggerating. I doubt any of these people actually think that this new release, of limited commercial interest, will translate to a larger group of people. I can't know the minds of every music superfan, especially those who have properly reached the end of the 22-year journey and are shedding tears of joy and relief as their fingers hit the keys, but I do know that the days of a genuine event in music are most likely over (even if there have been a few noble attempts recently). Lord knows what the band themselves think about all this fanfare. You can't blame them for avoiding the spotlight; the discrepancy between the instant gratification-seeking "Now!" culture My Bloody Valentine have hungover into and the slow-burning, treated and re-treated to perfection formula they've worked from since 1988 seems to be massive. It's a relief then that m b v takes absolutely no interest in the 21st Century, or any concept of time but its own. It is simply, "the new record".



And not for humility's sake either. With little background information of the record we have no idea how much of it is recent material, or how much of it was written and recorded in the years immediately following Loveless. But it's of no importance. As an album in three parts of three tracks each (for argument's sake), the first section is the most pigheaded towards the idea of radical evolution. Which isn't to say it's ugly and unrefined; in fact completely the opposite: it serves as a reminder of the beautiful anguish of the previous record. The first track, "she found now", ensures the album begins not with a bang, but with a whimper, albeit a pretty, droney whimper. It makes sense that this song is sung by bandleader and crucial component Kevin Shields, whose studio experiments redefined the possibilities for guitar-based music; a radical change that has yet to be matched since (to those unfamiliar with My Bloody Valentine, this cannot be overstated). It's true that it shares similarities with another track that bears his lead vocals, "Sometimes", but this is far from a bad thing. It means that the album has a disarming yet familiar start, that shies away from controversy and comforts the listener into staying put for the remainder of the experience. What's most impressive about "she found now" is the sense of rhythm given by one delayed guitar. Given that Shields recorded the majority of the album by himself, with the exception of Bilinda Butcher's vocals and Colm Ó Cíosóig's drum parts, the track has an extra personal feel; and the listener can feel the meaning of the several years it may have taken to record and release it. The rest of the band appear on the next two songs, which feels like the true reintroduction. Bilinda sings in her signature indiscernible vowels over the solid rhythm Colm musters up for "only tomorrow"; her voice at times shifting up and swooping over Kevin's many buzzy guitar layers (I'm becoming increasingly aware that describing m b v's guitar sounds with words is an increasingly moot point, but believe me when I say the first guitar break here is truly awe-inspiring). "who sees you" completes this initial triptych, and furthers the idea of repeating and expanding on simple phrases from the previous track. On this one the guitars sound the most aggressive yet, which contradicts the paradisal softness of Kevin's vocal (subtly backed by Bilinda, to powerful effect). And two more incredible guitar breaks! Forget the time this music has taken to surface: when this formula can be executed to perfection over and over, I'm thankful to be able to listen to it at all.



The album then decides to break and do something entirely new for the band with its second act. The following track "is this and yes" has no guitars whatsoever, instead led by organic, astronomic keyboards and Bilinda's unusually forefronted vocals. Colm's bass drum is the only other addition to the song, which sounds like it was recorded inside the moon. It's definitely pretty, but to finally delve into criticism there is an issue with its length. Some reviewers feel as though it goes on for too long, like an unscheduled meander through the galaxy, but I'd say the opposite is actually true: I feel that given a couple minutes more it could stumble across something even more spacious and ultimately worthwhile. "if i am" is a little stronger, bringing Kevin and Colm back to the front; with the former dipping his guitar in gracious amounts of chorus, tremolo and flange, but struggles to make a mark when compared to the high quality of material elsewhere. I'd also say something about Debbie Googe's bass here like everyone else, if only because I've neglected to mention her involvement so far (whatever it was), except it really doesn't make a huge impression on me personally. The next track "new you" is a great improvement, especially because it allows for the return of Colm's heart-stopping drum breaks and those floaty, flute-y keyboards. Again Bilinda takes the trophy home for the sensuous doo doo doo's during the outro. Overall this segment of the album was the one that impressed me the least; the vanilla segment of this most Neapolitan record, but chocolate takes m b v somewhere entirely more adventurous and alien.



The opening guitar squeal of appropriately named "in another way" is so unexpected, uncharacteristic and perhaps a little tasteless that more than one reviewer has mislabelled it as the sound of "bagpipes". Three seconds later all is redeemed however when Colm's thunderous drums break through the clouds and lead a pack of loud, lively guitars onto the ravaged earth. It's maybe the most, well, punk rock-sounding song My Bloody Valentine have released since "You Made Me Realise". Thankfully vocals are kept to a minimum, leaving it to the other instruments to jam it out. It gives the feeling that the rulebook has truly been thrown out, for better or for worse. What follows is essentially a three-and-a-half minute studio experiment, "nothing is"; an exercise in rising intensity created using Kevin's choppy, buzzing guitar and Colm's very loud, booming drums, again using that weird "live looping" technique. It may come off as a little banal or worthless, but really I find it difficult to fault. Up to this point, m b v has been arguably everything that was demanded of it: a continuation of the sounds and experimental, involuted and ethereal (ugh) nature of Loveless, yet simultaneously a progression. Yet unbelievably the bravest, and possibly strongest track of the whole album was saved for last: "wonder 2". "Soon" this ain't; instead it's the heaviest song My Bloody Valentine have put their name to. The drum and bass-inspired rhythm section is a dead giveaway that Kevin at least began working on it during the 90s; only he could have paired it with the sweeping, aeroplane engine flanger effect and other assorted propulsive noise. As ever the structure is simple, the lyrics are a non-starter, but the texture is beyond anything you've ever heard. Imagine if it had been released during the 90s - it would have been copied a hundred times over by now.



This is the thing about My Bloody Valentine as a whole to me. "Texture" is the most important word. If music were texture alone I believe that Loveless would be the greatest album of all time, and I'm not the only person to think that. And certainly on that album its undefined, boundless, androgynously sexual, violently pleasurable multitude of textures were aided immensely by songwriting, structure, timing and above all inventiveness, which essentially when combined with its critical reception, influence and unintentional legendary status makes it the perfect album in this regard (the phrase "painted themselves into a corner" comes up more than once). After rumours of long bouts of depression and creative drought, Kevin Shields didn't ever need to follow Loveless up; it seemed to many to be an impossible task. Above all it shows a dedication to his role as a musician: many of his peers released great albums during their time, but furthered themselves with work that shattered the illusion of unapproachable, godlike craft. In this regard even a terrible album would have sufficed in allowing My Bloody Valentine to continue making music. But that's not what m b v is. It's not Loveless, but it's not weaker than a 6/10. It's a very reflexive listen, and if it succeeds at anything else it will hopefully bury the idea that an important album needs to be exemplary of its time. It's not of this time, or any other. And I enjoyed it very much.



Purchase m b v on a variety of formats from the My Bloody Valentine official webpage.

Album Review: Darkstar - News From Nowhere

Growers often pass by unnoticed. Fads garner attention to collective sounds, but obscure individuals. Frozen in these moulds, these individuals are expected to dissipate along with the freshness of their sub-genre, be forgotten, maybe get a job at the Carphone Warehouse if they're lucky, and get on with life as underappreciated as the rest of us. We're a fickle lot.

Such is the curse of "post-dubstep". Here today (2010-2011), gone tomorrow (2012+). Naturally at the time we knew it was ridiculous to group any new UK bass-inspired pop musicians as being inherently alike, but we did it nonetheless. If the post-dubstepper wants another fair crack at the whip, there are two ways in which to progress. The safer, though less rewarding path to follow is the same one they walked roughly 2-3 years earlier, knowing that the fashions have changed, and the chances of ever releasing an album as successful as their debut have already floated away on the breeze. In the case of the xx, it's probably enough to get by. Musicians, consumers and critics alike are a lot more resilient to the second path, change. The second album is always a baptism of fire, but for Darkstar it's hopefully saved them in the long run.



It feels especially unfair to lump Darkstar in with the others (I'm bored of the word already, forgive me), given their careers' resemblance with an (admittedly marginally earlier) trajectory of the equally adored and reviled poster-boy James Blake, who is also setting co-ordinates for 2013 for his re-emergence. Originally a duo on Hyperdub Records, Darkstar's first public turning point was the introduction of permanent vocalist James Buttery, a decision which ushered their something-else-entirely debut album North with a cover of the rare Human League b-side "You Remind Me Of Gold" (ringing any bells?). But as I say, people still curiously fear change, even when a group have shown to be adept at it, and are eager to sneer at anyone attempting to do something beyond the one or two things they've been prescribed. Which bluntly, is ridiculous. The first steps for News From Nowhere were relocating from Hyperdub to Warp, and bringing in frequent Wild Beasts producer Richard Formby. A more drastic, inspired or brave proposal couldn't be made.



The album begins with soft, manipulted drones. "Light Clock Body Starter" really is lovely, and an avid, confident statement not necessarily of less being more, but certainly more beautiful. It cuts suddenly to the jack-in-the-box of "Timeaway", which is where we're really treated to the group's vocal harmonies (as are the vocals themselves). In fact on every song the vocals are vague, disconcerting, even pensive; greatly contrasting the album's playbox of colourful loops, synths and samples. It's something Darkstar have above the rest. Often song structures are abandoned for great periods of time, leaving the listener to wallow in uncertainty in their absence, like in "Armonica", or left hanging altogether ("Amplified Ease"). It's pleasant to find an altenative to the build/drop formula, one post-dubstep was previously inclined to keep in some form. Percusssion as a whole is used sparingly, yet effectively. Sometimes as compensation songs are vocal-led, recalling old nursery rhymes, or the Beach Boys. It's probably not intended to actively tug at nostalgia, but as ever its hard to say where these songs are really coming from.



Conversely, it can be argued that songs on the album don't really go anywhere either. This is true, and previously I may be inclined to say this is a bad thing. Even Animal Collective, the album's closest reference point, usually have a stronger direction to their music, for all their recycled bloatedness. But here Darkstar use aimlesness as a form of expression. Animal Collective would never release an album called News From Nowhere. Lost in the thick fog rising above second album wasteground, the trio courageously re-emerge with wide-eyed expressions, resisting the temptations of clinical IDM or old soul dirge for something more adventurous, yet introspective and unique. These conflicts of situation and intention result in a feeling of damp happiness. When distilled into "Amplified Ease", I'm rewarded with one of my favourite songs of the year so far.



"Hold Me Down", the album's final seven minutes is another great example of this feeling. Like Wild Beasts' Smother closer "End Come Too Soon" it's content to take things slowly in order to drip every last drop from Buttery's voice. It's sign of maturity, of being satisfied with reality and realism, and is ultimately more effective than absolute escapism and whimsy. The sleeve of News Frrom Nowhere evokes that of Animal Collective's Strawberry Jam, but instead of depicting an instantly digestible sugary substance it shows unnaturally coloured, inedible-looking  flowers and berries. Darkstar's album takes a little time, and may not sustain interest for the whole year, but for now is charming and different enough to justify being ingested in a different way.

Single of the Week: Chvrches - "The Mother We Share"

The latest single from Glasgow-based electro pop newcomers Chvrches may bear similarities with more than just a name of a certain other song, but when all the best qualities of the genre's expansions over the last ten years are present, the end result is an undeniably catchy and rewarding pop hit. "The Mother We Share" has icy, disembodied vocal "oo"'s, handclaps, lyrics like "the way is long but you can make it easy on me", and most importantly a great big synthesized chorus, but what Chvrches create is bigger than the sum of its parts. It's universal, euphoric, and just too loveable to dismiss; that more than makes up for its lack of originality by crafting from the sounds around as brilliantly as possible.

Single of the Week: Bat For Lashes - "Marilyn"

Natasha Khan values the idea of people. The most popular (and dare I say best) Bat For Lashes songs have used the concept of first names as a gateway to deeper moods, themes and explorations into relationships. "Marilyn", the second single from The Haunted Man (after the similarly-eponymic "Laura") is no different to these. The large, glistening, Cocteau Twins-like instrumental backing suits Khan's lyrical atmosphere perfectly. As she examines the notion of celebrity, contrasted with her own normality, you get the image of Khan's proximity to the sublime. "Marilyn" is a pretty track, but it's also substantial, and breathes deeply into the spaces that "Laura" found more effective to leave untouched.

This track is free for all Amazon.co.uk customers. Download it here.

Watch a new documetary about D.I.Y. pop legend R.Stevie Moore

R. Stevie Moore's been experiencing an increase in popularity lately, in part thanks to the success of his supporters such as Ariel Pink, to whom Moore has played the part of unofficial mentor, and collaborator on this year's expansive Ku Klux Glam project. Moore has also recently been the subject of an atempted "best-of" collection, Lo Fi Hi Fives, curated by Tim Burgess. Now French director Arnaud Maguet is the latest to add a chapter to Moore's legacy; he's called it I Am a Genius (And There’s Nothing I Can Do About It): A Movie About Some Situations With R Stevie Moore. Here are the results:

Wild Nothing - Nocturne added to 2012 Recommended Albums

For certain people, the "dream-pop" label can carry with it a number of negative ideas. Ideas of sunbaked American students spending hours in dorms with MacBooks and the latest music editing software, writing songs about the girl they're too wet behind the ears to ask out at the cocktail bar. Moreso than that this new generation of indie songwriters are accused of being lazy and unoriginal, favouring the trend of soaking their guitars and vocals in reverb to hide the lack of substance to their work. Add to that the derivative nature that comes from the copy-and-pasted style thse bands follow and dream-pop becomes ripe for parody and ridicule.

The upshot of this genre's popularity is that when someone like Wild Nothing (aka the now Brooklyn-based Jack Tatum) comes along, a songwriter with integrity and charisma, he isn't slept on. Nocturne is the second Wild Nothing album, folowing 2010's sleeper success Gemini, and on surface level there maybe isn't enough change here to convert the typical dream-pop cynic. The most significant is the introduction of producer Nicolas Vernhes, who insures a professional touch to Tatum's otherwise homespun sound. Also of note from a sonic perspective is the influence of 80s British electronic acts such as New Order in some of the guitar/keyboard lines and occasional Stephen Morris-esque drum patterns. Much has been made of this, and it does serve as another usp for Wild Nothing, but you're not going to mistake it from a Factory Records album anytime soon. We are still firmly in the land of reverb.



The true asset to Nocturne is Tatum's capabilities as a songwriter, the moods and themes he creates through his aesthetic. Maybe it was supposed to be Gemini's darker twin - the first three track names "Shadow", "Midnight Song" and "Nocturne" seem to suggest so - but its breezy nature makes that idea a little hard to take seriously. Instead we're treated to songs about girls called Heather and Rheya, and told that "love is paradise" in the five-and-a-half minute centrepiece, the most ambitious track by a stretch. Not exactly dark night of the soul-like stuff. That's not to say these moments aren't rewarding in themselves, and that trio of openers does hold a more tortured presence under all the wistfulness. Take lead single "Shadow". Although the vocals are low in the mix (below some lovely string arrangement), they're not so indecipherable as not to catch such pessimism as "I'd go with you if you asked me to / but we wouldn't get very far, two strangers in the dark". It's a pop song in the Robert Smith template: couterbalancing the instrumental's glimmer of optimism with crushing lyrical blows, and it can't be helped to hang on to the lyrics from there, whether they're the sensual "you can have me"'s of the title track, or the aforementioned laments for "Rheya".

With Wild Nothing's gift for songwriting and extended instrumental and tonal pallette, Nocturne successfully bucks the "style over substance" argument for dream-pop out of the water. Although Jack Tatum's heart is still firmly stuck to his sleeve his lyrics, song structures and tasteful nods to his influences add up to a sincere talent, and there are enough musical ideas happening for the album to work satisfyingly well. Until now I found the closest thing to a varied dream-pop album to be DIIV's Oshin, released a few months ago also on Captured Tracks. And while that certainly isn't a bad album it takes something like Nocturne to show that with any genre there's no obligation to play by the rules when it comes to making an album. There's plenty to stake out on the fringes.

Stream Grizzly Bear - Shields and Dinosaur Jr. - I Bet On Sky

I've been up early, working my way through the new album by Grizzly Bear, Shields, and have now moved onto Dinosaur Jr. (pictured) - I Bet On Sky. All thanks to NPR Music. Links:

Dinosaur Jr. - I Bet On Sky
Grizzly Bear - Shields

Dirty Projectors present their short film Hi Custodian

On the subject of short films, Dirty Projectors have premiered their visual accompniment to recent album Swing Lo Magellan, which was produced in association with Pitchfork x Youtube. Written and directed by bandleader David Longstreth, and starring bandmembers David Longstreth, Amber Coffman, Nat Baldwin, Haley Dekle and Mike Johnson, Hi Custodian is now available to view below. As promised the film contains elements influenced by Kanye West's similar 2010 project Runaway, not least alternate versions of songs featured on Swing Lo Magellan, so if you're still not convinced of my review of the album look no further:

Grizzly Bear w/ Perfume Genius - (Nottingham) Albert Hall Conference Centre (29th August 2012)

The 2 Bears (Ed Droste and Daniel Rossen). Couldn't get the rest in shot, heaven knows I tried.

Perfume Genius

Not too dissimilar to the set they performed at Latitude last month (and because I detailed that here I'm not going to elaborate much). Thankfully I was surrounded by less irriating company this time around. Surprisingly, the main difference between this Mike Hadreas and the one performing to double the amount of people in the i Arena was this one seemed to lack further confidence. Not a huge problem, as is the nature of Perfume Genius, and as far as support slots go, I don't think I could have asked for a better one.

Grizzly Bear
Ed Droste decided to turn the seated show into a standing one. One of the main issues of this was that it became tough to see (and photograph) entirely what was happening on stage. The Albert Hall Conference Centre isn't a typical music venue, and there's no barrier between the crowded audience and the under-three-feet stage. This was probably my only major negative of the show. The setlist ranged across Grizzly Bear's current three studio albums, but some of the night's brightest moments came from the scarcely-performed new material, to feature on the upcoming album Shields. No less than six new tracks were played: "Sleeping Ute" and "Yet Again" were already familiar, but they were rivalled by "Speak In Rounds", "A Simple Answer", "gun-shy" and "Half Gate". Between them signifies a prediction that Shields may turn out to be Grizzly Bear's rock album, and all four members infused these songs with a new passion. Some top-class banter solidified the evening, on the account of it being Chris Taylor's birthday, and they can be forgiven for shortening their encore to go out to celebrate.

I managed to nab myself a setlist, which is how I knew what the new songs were. The penultimate track is called "Half Gate":

Cat Power - Sun and Deerhoof - Breakup Song streaming at NPR Music

New albums ahead of release this week come from Deerhoof and Cat Power, who release Breakup Song and Sun respectively next Monday. Enjoy yourself with these links:

Cat Power - Sun
Deerhoof - Breakup Song

Stream the new Animal Collective album Centipede Hz

As part of the Animal Collective Radio series the band has just finished airing the premiere of their new album Centipede Hz (artwork above). If you missed it, or just want to experience it all over again you can still head over to the band's website myanimalhome where you can stream Centipede Hz at your leisure, accompanied by visuals created by Abby Portner. Altenatively listen to the last four weeks of Animal Collective Radio archived on the band's Mixcloud page.

King Krule - "Rock Bottom"

New single on the way from King Krule, whose self-titled EP was an easy 2011 favourite. Here's "Rock Botttom", which has the ginger Rick Astley look-a-like singing part of the Streets' "Empty Cans" during its frenetic climax:

alt-J (∆) - An Awesome Wave added to 2012 Recommended Albums

That name. Those vocals. The hype of the UK press. The descriptions on every track of their Soundcloud album stream. ∆. I was convinced I was going to hate this album. I made fun of it to my friends. Then I listened to it. I take it all back. It's brilliant.

It takes some getting used to. alt-J's most distinctive musical feature as mentioned already is their vocals. Joe Newman's falsetto sounds forced, contrived and immediately like a gimmick. In a sense they represent every negative criticism one could construct towards the band and An Awesome Wave, their talked-about debut album. It's tough to describe the vocals' timbre with only words; though ultimately they are tuneful, carry emotion and the majority of the lyrics can be deciphered (to these ears), and are just pleseant enough to be gotten away with. If there's anything to get past, it's the vocals (and I'm still not sure if I actually like them or not), but if you can what remains is an album of uniquely crafted, forward-thinking British indie-rock.

The loudest and most dynamic track An Awesome Wave has to offer is clearly "Fitzpleasure", with its huge, dirty bass riff leading charge a polyrhythmic battailion of "la la la"'s. If you only need one track to secretly indulge in let it be this one; though admit it, how could you not fall for one of the quirkiest, most energetic singles of the year? Second place goes to "Breezeblocks", whose narrative (captured in its reverse-motion music video) documents the violent struggle of a tearing relationship. Newman's knack for a comelling vocal melody ("Please don't go, please don't go / I love you so, I love you so") may appear to be the standout feature, but as with the majority of An Awesome Wave the credit has to go to the drum patterns of Thom Green, which burst with a trip-hop flavour from which the rest of alt-J's style is indebted to. It's no coincedence that one of the labels the band suggested to define their sound was "trip-folk".

Listening to deeper album cuts yields more gems. "Dissolve Me" may whiff of a bedwetter's paradise (the song literally describes a "bedtime routine"), but is genuinely affecting, with a skipping keyboard melody and another rousing mantra: "she makkes the sound the sea makes, knee-deep in it all". The Eastern instrumentation of "Taro" is another move that many bands miscalculate, but alt-J use it sparsely, putting rhythm again at the forefront. Even the interludes are interesting enough to feel important, although the third, "Piano" feels like one too many. If An Awesome Wave comes close to falling off anywhere, it's the relative blandness of "Matilda" and "Ms"; the latter feeling especially awkward and empty ("The dark seeks dark"). However even these tracks stay in character. You may have heard "Matilda" on the radio during the last few months, and it's easy to see it as an accessible step towards the rest of the album's unusual delights.

Aside from a few badly-chosen sample choices and the obvious vocals there's very little to disagree with An Awesome Wave. It's the debut album for the summer you'd want, with a handful of wonderful standout tracks to go into any playlist. alt-J are another band who present new, fully-developed ideas from the drop of their debut, and are willing to challenge not only mainstream but also underground tastes. It's a risk that not only allows them to stand out from the crowd but pays off from a musical standpoint too. The highs of the album far outweigh the lows, and for that it's an experience that doesn't deserve to be missed, or misjudged.

Big Boi joins Little Dragon on stage for new collaboration

Big Boi tweeted pics of himself in the studio with Swedish electro-pop group Little Dragon ages ago. Now we know that one of the tracks produced in those sessions, "Mama Told Me" will feature on Big Boi's Vicious Lies And Dangerous Rumours, scheduled for a 13th November release date (we'll see about that). The track was premiered live in Austin, Texas where Big Boi joined Little Dragon on stage:



Track all the info up to the release of Vicious Lies And Dangerous Rumours on the Upcoming Releases page.

Cat Power - "Cherokee" / Nicolas Jaar Remix

"Ruin" has worked its way towards my ears quite regularly since its inclusion in my June playlist. Now not only has Cat Power released the next single from her new record Sun (artwork above) for free, there's also a remix by my favourite house producer Nicolas Jaar to boot!



Track all the info up to the release of Sun on the Upcoming Releases page.

Wild Nothing - "Paradise"

The first Wild Nothing track to emerge from the upcoming Nocturne was the beautiful "Shadow" (see my June playlist). Now we have "Paradise" to whet appetites before Nocturne's imminent release date (27th August via Bella Union in the UK, a day later via Captured Tracks in the US):



Track all the info up to the release of Nocturne on the Upcoming Releases page.

The xx - "Chained"

The second track to be released from the xx's next album Coexist is also the second in the tracklisting - have fun playing "Chained" straight after "Angels" and dreaming up the rest of the album's possibilities:



Track all the info up to the release of Coexist on the Upcoming Releases page.

Single of the Week: Grizzly Bear - "Yet Again"

There's enough hype out there to tell you that for many Shields is one of the most anticipated records left to come out this year. Even without promotional singles this would be the case, but "Sleeping Ute" and "Yet Again" prove that Grizzly Bear can craft material deserving of such early praise. The former hinted at a weightier, brasher direction for the notoriously sleepy-sounding quartet. "Yet Again" builds on that blueprint and continues to use the band's usual instrumentation to rock out. It's the loudest song Grizzly Bear have put together, but Ed Droste's usual soft vocals keep the balance between the familiar and the obscure tied down. The final minute of the track is taken up by an unexpected freakout of noise, giving further creedence to the idea of Daniel Rossen as the new indie generation's guitar god. Grizzly Bear are drawing attention with their new songs, regardless of whether their previous albums' greatness made that attention inevitable in the first place.

Blur - Wolverhampton Civic Hall (6th August 2012)

Of all my low-quality camera phone shots, this one was the least, ahem, blurry

Like me, it seemed that most people thought that one of Britain's all-time most celebrated bands would start their set at the relatively small venue (for a band of their stature), the Wolverhampton Civic Hall as they did their BBC Radio 2 Live At Maida Vale session broadcast last week (click here for video highlights): intimate, low-key, saving their energy for their huge Olympic Closing Ceremony appearance at Hyde Park happening later this week. We were so wrong: as the opening notes of "Girls And Boys" squelched out it was clear where all of those plastic cups of horrible, expensive beer were about to go. The initial six-song run (highlights being "Tracy Jacks", "Beetlebum" and "Coffee And TV") played out like a punk show: Damon Albarn managing to show the crowd his best Iggy-isms without coming across as too ridiculous or flashy. Despite his non-commital attitude to his most renowned project over the years, he seemed to be having the most fun out of anyone.

Over the course of two hours Blur knocked out an impeccably-chosen setlist, balancing their best-known hits with lesser-known album cuts and b-sides ("Caramel" and "End Of A Century" being two of my favourites), and both sides of their new single: "Under The Westway" / "The Puritan". Hearing "No Distance Left To Run" immediately after the two-minute near-heart-attack of "Song 2" was probably a relief shared by more people than just myself. Even a few sound issues didn't dampen the experience: four backing singers and three horn players stood to the side of the stage without being heard even in their most necessary moments, but the four band members could be heard beautifully (my ears are stil ringing, as expected). It was totally their show, made even more special by the rare occurrence of the event. Thankfully both band and audience were detemined to get the most out of the precious time shared.