The Bevis Frond - The Leaving Of London

By Kenny McMurtrie

A concept album about the BBC’s relocation of staff to Salford? Or the heralding of an exodus of those disinterested in the Olympics this coming Summer? Whatever the theme of studio album number 22 from Nick Saloman and cohorts the eight year hiatus since the Hit Squad album hasn’t degraded their talents in any way. Indeed Saloman is still hands on enough throughout the process of constructing The Bevis Frond’s works that he’s the album producer and sleeve photographer/designer. Freedoms not to be sniffed at in an increasingly controlled and passively observant society.

As noted above this is a group with plenty of back-catalogue to sift through, but while they now have the thoroughly modern means of a website available via which to do so, the sound of these 18 new tracks is as rooted in the psychedelia of the late Sixties and early Seventies, not to mention more classic rock, as ever before. Not that you should take from that the impression of tie-dyed older blokes getting wistful about the drugs they can no longer safely consume – right from the opening of ‘Johnny Kwango’ there is a clearly annoyed venting of spleen at the state of things in the UK and the wider world.

‘Barely Anthropoid’ bemoans the passivity of many who grumble but won’t even email their MP let alone make more vocal complaints. ‘You’ll Come’, one of the highlights amongst the faster tracks here, gives the likes of Dinosaur Jr (even pre-reformation) a run for their money. As for that matter does ‘Heavy Hand’. The softer pedalled songs are by no means weak however and the emotional depth of the likes of ‘Testament’ or ‘Son Of A Warm Gun’ are likely to strike a chord with many.

Dad-rock this isn’t and given that plenty of household names of a similar or older vintage are plying their trade as mere shadows of their former selves (hell many younger ones are too) it is always refreshing to be reminded that those who have failed in a sense to “make it” have nevertheless kept their heads above water and not deviated from the path they set themselves on and manage to make music worth paying attention to still.

DJ Food - The Search Engine

By Kenny McMurtrie

DJ Food‘s The Search Engine starts off with one of those annoying but occasionally amusing deep voices that advertise films. Given that the album’s created entirely from samples it probably is just exactly that. Thankfully it disappears after the first track (‘All Covered In Darkness (pt. 1)’). This consistently surprising album then throws up a pretty major one right on track two with a 30 year old song being sung by its originator – Talk Talk’s Matt Johnson does ‘GIANT’. Ten and a half minutes of unadulterated danceable goodness.

In the 11 year hiatus since the Kaleidoscope album Food has changed tack somewhat and here returns with a sound noticeably heavier than that with which fans will be used to from his work in the 1990s. Pop Will Eat Itself come to mind as a partial comparison, along with at times NIN (most spectacularly on the JG Thirlwell voiced ‘Prey’) and the DJ Shadow/Cut Chemist albums. ‘Sentinel (Shadow Guard)’ (song number five) is a particularly deep and dark slice of dramatic drum loops and just one of a number of cuts that wouldn’t sound out of place in the soundtrack of the likes of movies along the lines of Underworld or The Matrix. Future-noir or somesuch.

Those of you opting for the downloadable version of the album at the month’s end have the added bonus of an expanded 17 track copy (which is apparently “lossless” so presumably you can’t inadvertently delete it after purchase). No reason to believe that the five songs I’ve been unable to hear are of a lower quality in any repect than the dozen I’ve enjoyed today. Those of you that bought last year’s Magpies, Maps & Moons 12″ will already have versions of four of the initial 12 tunes and the flexidisc accompanying the limited edition bog standard album (with comic-sized packaging) features the fifth song from that earlier offering. Seems a bit too many possibilities in what are apparently straitened times but no one has a gun to your head.

Essentially themeless, the album nevertheless has a kind of psychedelic linkage threaded through it (especially evident by the time you get to ‘Magpie Music’) which acts as a bit of a vague nod backwards to the late Sixties and early Seventies, where many of the samples probably originate. As works heralding the return of major talents go this is easily among the best of recent years in any field of popular music deserves to atract new an old fans alike (whichever option you decide to buy). Finally for all you comic fans the cover’s the work of Henry Flint (as if you hadn’t already spotted that).

Chris Devotion and the Expectations - Amalgamation and Capital

By Kenny McMurtrie

Bursting forth like a Scottish Gaslight Anthem, Chris Devotion and the Expectations rock out with their, er, roosters out from start to finish on this debut album. Just been dumped? Stick this on. Pining for your ex? Stick this on. Off to do something about getting back together? Listen to this to get psyched up. Failed to pull it off and still single? This and a few beers will see you through. Unlike a number of current soul & roll bands plying their trade around the place just now there’s no weak songs here that will need a live performance to realise their full potential. Not that there’s actually much soul here. Mostly it’s just rock although that’s in need of being spelt RAWK!

Sixteen generally punchy tracks (‘Blister’ starts a mite slower than the rest and ‘Eyes Open Now’ is a wee nonsense ballad) in just over half an hour, this is right up your street if you’ve even a passing interest in the likes of The Hives, Sugar, Pixies or Bruce Springsteen’s more robust output. Love and having fun as topics of concern sit comfortably alongside digs at the current government so this is not by any means a hollow vessel in terms of the wider issues of the day.

With more hooks than the changing rooms at your local baths the likes of ‘I Don’t Need You Anymore’, ‘It’s Not A Secret’, ‘Pinhole Suit’ and ‘ Laura Was Right’ pursue a scorched earth policy on your eardrums but you’d expect nothing less from an album that was recorded and mixed in just ten days. This is a riot of a record, a great way to see out the end of the winter and promises great things in the year ahead in terms of live performances.

Guided By Voices - Let's Go Eat The Factory

By Kenny McMurtrie

In the past I’ve used good old-fashioned money to buy good old-fashioned CDs by Guided By Voices. I never play them anymore, instead preferring the occasional song to be thrown up randomly by my mp3 player. I consider myself a fan though, despite being able to name off the top of my head at time of writing only one song by them (‘I Am A Tree’). When Robert Pollard’s voice wafts through my earphones I’m pleased to be able to recognise it and sometimes am even moved to take the player out to read the name of the track and the CD it originated from.

For the purpose of this review, however, I’m unburdened by either a physical or virtual copy of Let’s Go Eat The Factory, having only had an online stream of the 21 songs to listen to. This fact may in some cases prove to be a niggle (owning the products legally for free obviously being a perk of this hobby) but in this case it’s a definite positive as it has both saved me any expense when the album hits the shelves and also saved me deleting the mp3s after submitting this piece.

In short the sound the band produce is exactly what you’d expect if you already know their oeuvre – it just lacks any excitement outside of the fact that they are back together in the first place. Taking that into account then there’s no need for me to have another CD gathering dust or another bunch of songs that I’ll hear one of every few months and be less than mildly curious about where it fits into the canon. After a 15 year break they’ve undeniably still got it (many such returns are woeful in comparison afterall) but whether anyone would lose much sleep if they’d not recorded this is debatable.

Most of the songs clock in at under three minutes. ‘The Head’ has a Metal-ish quality in its driving guitar sound. ‘Spiderfighter’ starts off in a sinister vein but becomes quite tender by the end. ‘The Unsinkable Fats Domino’ and ‘Chocolate Boy’ pound along at a decent pace, ‘Imperial Racehorse’ is an attempt at a rock epic and ‘Old Bones’ bears a very close resemblance to ‘Auld Lang Syne’. Elsewhere there are numbers that sound either like Captain Beefheart or early REM. Equally good for the diehard or the newbie then as it’s like they’d never split up in the first place.

The Men - Leave Home

By Kenny McMurtrie

If it was good enough for The Ramones then clearly it’s ok for fellow New Yorkers The Men to quit the city on this their third album. A number of influences on their sound have been bandied about but on first listen what came to mind for me was the early work of Helmet, with a nice nod to Spacemen 3/Mudhoney on fifth track ‘( )’.

That’s not to say that things are all heavy here. Opening track ‘If You Leave’ is psychedelic shoegaze that resembles a mashing together of Loop and Ride at their respective bests. Clocking in at just over seven minutes it’s quite the sweet trip. ‘Lotus’ takes the same sound into the next gear up but pounds along sans lyrics for only half of its predecessor’s length. If these men have a mission it could very well be to deafen as many people as possible.

Practically no space seperates tracks two and three as ‘Think’ screams onto the airwaves. This is seriously heavy stuff, the moodier slow parts of which are presentiments of what comes next on ‘L.A.D.O.C.H.’, a doom metal-speed dirge that outlives its welcome well before its six minutes are up. Hopefully its a parody. Either way it is by far the worst song on the album.

Thankfully its up, up, up from here on in with the aforementioned ‘( )’ quickly followed by ‘Bataille’ (bringing to mind The Saints), the almost surf instrumental ‘Shittin’ With The Shah’ (clearly something that didn’t happen any time recently) and finishing off with ‘Night Landing’, a hypnotically repetitive slice of robust Eighties-style punk. If they made this amount of noise in your basement you’d probably want them to move out too.

Anyone Can Play Guitar

By Kenny McMurtrie

November 29, 2011

When was the last time Mark Gardener was asked to turn it down by an annoyed old biddy? Probably not for many a year yet that’s what happened here tonight. Mid-way through his short semi-acoustic set a sinister silver-haired figure was seen to scurry in through the street door of the bar and engage the bar staff in animated conversation and two songs later it was all over. Fair enough – Midnight wasn’t far off and he’d only one more number up his sleeve but still, doesn’t a nice bloke occupying his place in the rock pantheon deserve some more respect? Clearly not from Supergran.

Before the curtailing of his engaging performance Mark managed to perform stirring versions of the Ride classics ‘From Time To Time’, ‘Chrome Waves’, ‘Twisterella’ (also apparently currently getting live outings with Death Cab For Cutie) and ‘In A Different Place’ along with a couple of newer tunes including ‘Love Like Ghosts’. Whilst his strongest material is maybe all behind him it still sounds fresh and knocks a lot of current stuff into touch with little effort, therefore this short but sweet performance was a particular joy.

Gardener’s efforts tonight followed the screening of the excellent documentary Anyone Can Play Guitar (think Dig! for the Oxford scene) by Jon Spira. A labour of love made over a number of years on an initial budget of zero money, this deserves to be seen by anyone and everyone who thinks of themselves as an Indie fan. Faithfully recording the highs and lows of the numerous bands who found their feet in The Jericho, The Co-op Hall and The Zodiac, this is packed full of unseen footage and new interviews with the likes of Dustball, Beaker, The Candyskins (whose bad luck needs to be seen to be believed), Radiohead, Supergrass, The Unbelievable Truth, Talulah Gosh, Ride, Foals, Swervedriver and stacks of others as well as the dedicated promoters of the scene and those prepared to take chances on young bands needing a help up, as well as highlighting the venality of publishers and major labels that still no doubt exists in the music industry today.

The current cinema run for the film has only one more date (December 1^st, Prince Charles Cinema, London) but the DVD can be obtained from www.acpgthemovie.com so head over to the site and give your nostalgia a run for its money. Someone enterprising should also release an OST if they can manage to wade through the potential copyright issues.

Zappa Plays Zappa, by Kenny McMurtrie

By Kenny McMurtrie

November 19, 2011

Finally. A gig worthy of the term ‘muso’, to the extent that you could have paid a three figure sum to get in early and witness the soundcheck (and probably have a bit of banter with Dweezil and the band). The maintenance of an ongoing musical legacy probably generates profits greater than that of some small nations, and t-shirts at £20 and proper shirts for £55 go a long way to keeping the family business in the black.

Musically though there’s no room for cynicism tonight as the players are all on excellent form, superbly executing both their collective and solo parts (stand outs being the drum, bass and melodica solos) as they showcase the entire 1974 Apostrophe(‘) album. Zappa senior makes a few appearances through the night too as this is a multi-media event incorporating expertly edited live footage from the Seventies; occurrences that are greeted by the sell-out crowd with the delight of worshippers witnessing the revealing of a saint (much like that seen when Eric Idle turns up on-screen as God in Spamalot). Then again if it’s good enough for Elvis…

Following the album material’s end, the set goes on to contain such great works as ‘What’s The Ugliest Part Of Your Body?’, ‘I’m The Slime’, ‘Don’t You Ever Wash That Thing?’ and closes out with a much demanded encore that includes ‘Dancing Fool’ and ‘Muffin Man’. With such a large body of work to choose from there is no way to please everyone (save for playing for 24 hours straight maybe) and the more populist nature of the bulk of the set is very much a reflection of that, but you’d hardly say that anyone looked disappointed by night’s end, least of all the band.

Clearly as cover bands go this is a rather unusual one. Its not like The Australian Pink Floyd rely on an ex-pat junior Gilmour or Waters for their authenticity of sound and popularity, but then for that matter if a Lennon offspring started touring Plastic Ono Band would the same crowds flock to see the shows? Highly unlikely. What was produced tonight then is more organic. Musicians at least as good as those involved in the original recordings and with the full cooperation of the great man’s estate, not just slavishly reproducing the works but imbuing them with new life as would have been the case if Frank himself was still treading the boards and pushing the envelope.

For Julia Stryj’s photos from the night, go here.

Homework, by Kenny McMurtrie

By Kenny McMurtrie

November 18, 2011

Finally. After four years of contributing to this site I’ve got a band to tip for success in the coming year. Homework‘s show tonight (to launch mini-album All That Glitters) was a revelation, not least because prior to the show I’d been less than impressed with their recorded output on their earlier singles. Live, however, they’re a far weightier and more powerful proposition. Coming on like a combination of Nine Inch Nails, Placebo and Jane’s Addiction, their sound turns out to be a dazzling amalgam of intrepid drumming, solid basswork, yearning, angsty vocals and blunt, propulsive riffs along with extensively employed synths.

Leading us on with a false sense of security by projecting Stop Making Sense on the back wall before taking to the stage, the four lads lose no time in confounding expectations (mine at any rate) and by the halfway point of the intense set (of which I can’t name a single song as the introductions were a tad unclear) the temperature had noticeably risen as bodies began to react to the tunes and get into the swing of things. Safe to say that by that point too the audience were wildly enthusiastic.

Keeping things necessarily short and to the point they were on and off stage in just under an hour but as tantalising glimpses go this was one of the best I’ve seen in years, the memory of which I’ll be pleased to reflect on as they go from strength to strength in the months ahead. Scotland’s producing a lot of bands at the noisier end of the musical spectrum at the moment and those already established should take note of the new boys getting ready to move into the fast lane and moon them as they streak past.

Odonis Odonis - Hollandaze

By Kenny McMurtrie

Toronto’s Odonis Odonis blaze onto the airwaves with a white-hot blast of messed up and distorted surf guitar on the opening (and title) track of this here debut album, Hollandaze. New and innovative it ain’t (half this review could be taken up with naming the bands their sound is obviously influenced by) but its assured enough to deserve its place on the shelf alongside the likes of A Place To Bury Strangers and other current proponents of the garage sound and at least there’s not a cover version in sight.

Delivered loud and live in a small venue, these 11 songs would leave your ears abuzz and your pulse racing. The likes of ‘Busted Lip’, ‘White Flag Riot’ and ‘Blood Feast’ carry things on in the straightforward manner introduced by the first track whilst the six minute ‘Seedgazer’ introduces a bit more versatility into the proceedings and that in turn is propogated through the likes of ‘Basic Training’, ‘We Are The Leftovers’ and (particularly) ‘Ledged Out’.

Sterling stuff then from a band that’s a little over a year old and a clear testament to the abilities of frontman Dean Tzenos (visit the band’s website and check out Dean’s podcast mixtapes while you’re at it) as well as the many illustrious collaborators on the work. As they’re finishing off a North American tour just now we can but hope that Fat Cat will being them across to the UK in the early part of 2012.

Twin Sister, By Kenny McMurtrie

By Kenny McMurtrie

Keen as mustard to be on stage for the capacity crowd here tonight Twin Sister delivered note perfect renderings of such numbers as ‘Champy’ and set closer ‘All Around And Away We Go’, along with a couple (including the encore) of duets between just Andrea (looking a tad over-dressed for the event) and Eric. Undoubtedly a nice bunch, their music comes across well in a live setting but one couldn’t help but feel that it would be even better appreciated without having the band actually visible as a point of reference.

Uber-chillout as the music is the act of standing and facing the quintet felt at times anathema to the sounds being produced although you could I suppose go and groove away in a corner to yourself if so minded. Either way, this was a solid and relaxed show from a young band with much more to offer who’re revelling in the moment and who fully deserve their bite at the cherry. Top marks too for returning my own level of enjoyment to the heights it had dropped from during the middle part of the night.

At the start of the night it looked like we were on for an enjoyable time all the way through when first support act The Machine Room took to the stage. Their singer was apparently ripe for a cuddle in the words of one audience member whilst their blend of White Lies, New Order and shoegaze alone was enough to warm up the rest of us lucky enough to make it along for the start. Songs such as ‘Your Head On The Floor Next Door’, ‘Camino De Soda’ and the particularly robust ‘Picking Holes’ showcased a talented bunch of relative newcomers spawned from the fertile ground of Edinburgh College of Art.

The night’s early promise was unfortunately dealt a hefty blow though by touring support Holiday Shores. After a rather pastoral beginning reminiscent of Kings Of Convenience the quartet managed to combine the bad bits from a number of musical styles into blocks of time that could only loosely be described as songs. For the most part they brought to mind Truman’s Water – a band concept that fairs better on paper than in actuality. Like an Eighties band dropped into the 21st century and trying desperately to assimilate the musical advances of the intervening years, not even their guitarist’s interestingly hideous jumper was enough to soften my heart (and how often in Florida do you need to wear a Barbour?). It has to be pointed out in the interest of fairness that that they did garner a decent amount of applause along the way but for my money they try too hard and more often than not fail to gel. A college band who won’t be around post-graduation, albeit three quarters of them could probably go on and do better.