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Belle & Sebastian have been one of my favourite bands for years. The first album I heard, The Boy with the Arab Strap became an instant favourite for me and I sought about finding all their stuff. Surprisingly, one of the last albums I heard, was actually their first. Tigermilk, like so many of their albums, sounds absolutely lovely. Cheery tunes, soft voices, twee pop in all its glory. But this is where Belle & Sebastian like to fool you. The songs sound wonderfully cheery, but most of them have a depressing little story in them. I found it very difficult not to write a paragraph about each song. There's just that much to be said about them.“The State I Am In” opens the album with gentle guitar and softly spoken lyrics, only to change once the second verse begins into a very upbeat song that sets the pace for the rest of the album. “Expectations” is a brilliant song. I cannot put into words how fantastic this song is. Several of the songs deal with homosexuality, high school, and basically just being the outcast. “Expectations” starts fast and doesn't stop. The entire song keeps building and building right up until the final verse, the song actually makes me a bit tense listening to it.
“She's Losing It” is a very boppy song that does not reflect its subject matter at all. But it does contain some of my favourite lyrics; "when the first cup of coffee tastes like washing up". The album is filled with lyrics like that that I can't help but smile to. The upbeat sound continues for the next couple of songs; “You're Just A Baby” and “Electronic Renaissance”. The latter being very reminiscent of Air, all it lacks is a mysterious French accent. “I Could Be Dreaming” takes creepy to a new level with its dreamy tune and sadistic lyrics. “We Rule the School” has some beautiful lyrics to go with the violin that appears and vanishes throughout the song.
“My Wandering Days Are Over” is the only real romantic song on the whole album. Several of the other songs mention love, but this seems to be the only one written specifically for someone. And then, just to confuse you, they follow the song with “I Don't Love Anyone”. A great song with fast acoustic guitar and our good friend the tambourine, who shows up in nearly all the songs, but only for the chorus, before dancing away for another few verses.
“Mary Jo” brings the album full circle. “The State I am In” is mentioned in one of the last verses and it's a great way to finish off the album. Part of my love for this band is because they can take depressing times in your life and give you a completely new outlook, simply due to the kind of music they write. The album always gets me singing and always somehow manages to turn my mood around.
90
(80 - SM)
Combined Rating = 85
Graham Coxon can play guitar. Graham Coxon can play guitar better than just about anyone. Graham Coxon is the Johnny Marr of the 90s. These are facts that you could almost forget on his last release, the perfectly fine Love Travels at Illegal Speeds, where Coxon hid his technical virtuosity behind power chords and straight-ahead mod-punk structures. Or further back in his solo career, when he hid behind extreme lo-fi textures. Even as a member of Blur, he often seemed somewhat uncomfortable with his obvious gift for blowing a song wide open with surprising harmonies and carefully-controlled, overdriven dissonance.Now, listen to “Sorrow’s Army”, lead single from upcoming LP The Spinning Top. You can’t play that finger-picking pattern. No one you know can play the rest of this album either- even your mate Larry from that high school band we all loved, the one who could play a flaming guitar with his teeth. Next to Graham Coxon, Larry is shit*. At 2:15 on “If You Want Me”, when the classic Gra telecaster kicks in, you will throw your head back on the train seat and punch the sky. This is the man’s best playing since 13. Those of you who thought he needed Albarn for contrast (myself included) were dead wrong (however much we did a similar air-punching manoeuvre when the Blur reunion was announced). It seems any minor collaboration suits him fine- the on-key backing vocals occasionally scattered throughout the album giving him all the melodic assistance his unconventional voice needs (this will be the last Blur reference, promise, but some of the backing on “Humble Man” sounds uncannily like Damon).Aside from the occasional flashes of distortion, however, this is a mostly acoustic set- preferring organs, piano and off-kilter percussion for accent to fender squawks and choppy muted strums. As the relatively subdued cover art suggests, Coxon clearly isn’t aiming for the schizophrenic immediacy of his last two rather-successful albums, and The Spinning Top sets into a pleasingly contemplative groove quite early on. There are heart-stopping moments, certainly, particularly on the chilling “Dead Bees” and the crushing “Tripping Over”, but they are less obvious than on Illegal Speeds. This works in the album’s favour, a central life-arc helps ground things while giving our man the space he needs to go all over the place and philosophise about those stalwart companions he finds in life, love and loss (without the need to make us uncomfortable with his recent tales of bathroom handjobs). The most obvious reference points here are Nick Drake and Syd Barrett- although the concept is more like a sick fusion of Lou Reed’s Berlin and Arthur or The Decline and Fall of the British Empire by Coxon’s beloved Kinks.An album is not overlong if it has 15 tracks. Blur’s classic Parklife had 16, after all (okay, so it wasn’t the last Blur reference- shoot me). Sometimes, 12 tracks can be too many (I’m looking your way, Alex Kapranos). An album is overlong if there are two or three unremarkable songs, if you want to turn it off halfway through or skip to the last track. The Spinning Top is not overlong- if I had done a song-by-song breakdown, I’d have something to say about every track here.If you haven’t been waiting for this album, if this is the first you’ve heard of it, then there is a chance that it will neither change your life nor convert you. Pick it up anyway, because you might learn something. The Spinning Top is a staggering artistic achievement, and Coxon’s best solo release to date.*No offence meant, Larry- you are a great guitarist and a really cool guy.92
(86 - AI, 85 - SM)
Combined Rating = 87.6
Antony Hegarty’s voice is awe. It’s the kind of voice that masses of music lovers gush over and justly so. It’s immaculate, achingly delicate. If other musicians were to express the lyrics strikingly sung here, it may come across as cloying or contrived. Antony however, sings with the utmost conviction and sorrowful sincerity. You only have to listen for confirmation.
The Crying Light is laced with imagery, vivid and deathly. The entire album is imbued with mournful string arrangements, piano and flutes. On “Epilepsy is Dancing” Antony requests that you “cut me in quadrants, leave me in the corner” before announcing that “it’s passing, now I’m dancing”.
The first half is more amiable with “One Dove”, “Kiss My Name” and “The Crying Light” adding light to the record. In contrast, the 2nd half is more unravelled, stark and potent.
Piano strokes lull tenderly in “Another World” while a protagonist comes to terms with leaving, “I’m going to miss the birds, singing all their songs. I’m going to miss the wind, been kissing me so long”.
“Daylight and the Sun” strikes you in the pit of your stomach with its opening vocal, “Now I cry for daylight. Daylight and the sun”. It imposes its yearning so luminously with fervent arrangements. Attempts to suppress heartbreaking sentiments are in vain.
“Dust And Water” is sung in a cappella. The forgoing of musical accompaniment invokes the sensation of being exposed. It’s precious and unfalteringly honest. Antony’s voice trembles softly, “Love the coal. Love the way you're waiting. I love your kind patience. Dust and water, water and dust”.
In closer “Everglade”, Antony is overcome with acceptance, “When I’m lying sweetly in my bed, the sun plays crystal with my eyes. Then I stop, my body stops crying for home. My limbs stop weeping for home”. The song peaks, before violins comfort for one last minute and then retreat from earshot.
Heartrendingly magic.
87
(85 - SM)
Combined Rating = 86
Part 2 of the Bowie glam reviews:
When we last saw Ziggy, he was contemplating suicide in front of a stage full of admirers. It’s clear now that what he really needed, more than anything, was a trip to the States.
Aladdin Sane or ‘Ziggy Discovers America’ is undeniably weird. Opener “Watch that Man” should be an instant glam classic- but Bowie’s voice is so far down in the mix that, on public transport, it sounds like an instrumental. With jazzy pianos, thick guitar chords and camp backing vocals, this should be triumphant. As it is here, however, it becomes vaguely unsettling. This all makes sense on track two, the avant-lounge piano freak-out that is “Aladdin Sane”. Bowie sung about the dark underbelly of the pop world on Ziggy- but now it sounds like he knows what he’s talking about.
Witness the schizophrenic pace changes from thick, sleazy rocker “Cracked Actor” to the slow fade vaudeville mindfuck of “Time”- the pretense of Ziggy disappears as it seems that Bowie himself is, probably for the first time in his career, emoting.
There are mistakes here: the Stones cover “Let’s Spend the Night Together” and remade early Bowie single “The Prettiest Star” are, for this reviewer at least, skippers. All is almost forgiven however, with Bowie’s two best glam singles- “Drive in Saturday” and the crunchy R&B anthem “The Jean Genie”.
Weird, dark and uncomfortable- this is something of an overlooked (outside of its iconic cover art) classic. Bowie makes being all over the place sound compelling and seductive- it’s hard to see how he could keep it up (here’s a clue for the next review- he couldn’t).
90
(84 - AI)
Combined Rating = 87
Boredoms conceive music in a blender. Ingredients are thrown in by a blind chef, who has the fortune of often producing something digestible, but only for the courageous consumer.
If listening to a cauldron of interrupted tempos and cut-and-paste melodies sounds like an excusable way to spend an hour, then Super æ is the record for you.
Opener, “Super You” is restlessness. Actually, Super æ is restlessness. Sounds are forever fluctuating. They’re impatient with any typical time structures, blipping here, spewing there.
Boredoms sound allergic to convention. Super æ frequently skirts predictability with the charm of an Attention Deficit Disorder patient.
“Super Are” falsely lulls before erupting in trademark Boredoms’ drum cacophonies. Hear that? It’s your ear drums enjoying a Fear and Loathing-style bender. There are bats in the sky, only this time they’re being heard. There is a reprieve in the form of “Super Going”, which is infused with sunny riffs and punchy vocals. By this time, your acid trip should be well and truly in its hallucinatory phase.
In the last quarter, “Super Shine” shows signs of exhaustion before snorting some tribal speed. It proceeds to hop colourfully and relentlessly for the remaining 4 minutes of its duration.
Finally, “Super Good” flutters out of earshot with a watery charm, the sun is ascending.
In 2006 experimentalists, Liars, claimed Drum’s Not Dead. They were right too. Drum is very much alive. And Boredoms have left a legacy of load-blowing thunder to prove it.
88
(85 - SM)
Combined Rating = 86.5
Belle & Sebastian have been one of my favourite bands for years. The first album I heard, The Boy with the Arab Strap became an instant favourite for me and I sought about finding all their stuff. Surprisingly, one of the last albums I heard, was actually their first. Tigermilk, like so many of their albums, sounds absolutely lovely. Cheery tunes, soft voices, twee pop in all its glory. But this is where Belle & Sebastian like to fool you. The songs sound wonderfully cheery, but most of them have a depressing little story in them. I found it very difficult not to write a paragraph about each song. There's just that much to be said about them.
