Paul Smith - Margins

2010 seems to be the year of the spin-off, having already seen solo albums from the likes of Kele Okereke, Brandon Flowers, Andy Burrows, Phil Selway, and Jónsi. Joining the list of artists with a solo itch to scratch is Maxïmo Park’s frontman Paul Smith. It’s inevitable that these artists will find their solo work compared to that of their band – particularly in the case of a frontman like Smith, whose vocal style and lyrics are arguably defining elements of Maxïmo Park’s music. So, does Margins manage to differentiate itself?

At first, the answer isn’t a clear yes or no. Smith’s distinctive voice means it’s impossible to escape that comparison regardless, but there are other elements of Maxïmo Park here too. The chorus of ‘Strange Friction’ has an air of ‘Questing Not Coasting’ about it, and the guitar riff on ‘Dare Not Dive’ doesn’t sound like it would be out of place on A Certain Trigger. Indeed, I could see beefed up versions of ‘North Atlantic Drift’ and ‘The Crush And The Shatter’ sitting on a Maxïmo Park album – although the fact that we can make that comparison tells us that Smith’s songwriting is still very strong here.

Elsewhere, however, Margins veers away from the Park’s indie-pop sound far more sharply. Tracks like ‘While You’re In The Bath’ and ‘Pinball’ are sparse acoustic numbers, while ‘This Heat’ is appropriately summery with its laid back, shimmering feel. In contrast, ‘Alone, I Would Have Dropped’ and ‘I Wonder If’ feel bleak and haunting, with minor-key, echoing guitar lines.

Given the generally stripped-back nature of the songs here, there is inevitably going to be more emphasis on the words – but fans of Smith’s lyricism will be well served here. As with the songs he writes for Maxïmo Park, these lyrics definitely feel personal – but just how much? It’s difficult to say – as ever, Smith conceals as much as he gives away. ‘While You’re In The Bath’ sees him “resisting the temptation to look through the gap in the bathroom door/though I’ve seen it before,” – but who exactly is the woman in question? An ex-girlfriend? A flatmate who he had a misguided one-night stand with? All he reveals by the end of the song is that “I wish I could love you/like I wanted to love you.”

Lost love seems to be a recurring theme on Margins – ‘I Drew You Sleeping’ is a touching tale which sees a faded drawing of a former lover becoming “the only remnant of our love,” while ‘Pinball’ has Smith looking to distract himself from the spectre of a previous relationship (“Pinball passes the time away/from the memories that we share”). It’s not all mournful reminiscing though – ‘Strange Friction’ sees Smith in the throes of passion (“in a New York hotel room/your flesh collided with mine,”) while ‘Dare Not Dive’ sees him caught between apprehension and desire (“I want to drown but I dare not dive”).

Overall, Margins generally does enough to stand apart from Smith’s work with Maxïmo Park – and yet, it’s probably fans of that same band who will appreciate it most. Why? Because this is still unmistakably the voice of Paul Smith, both in terms of his writing and his vocal style. Margins, then – not a radical departure by any means, but a worthwhile one nonetheless.

Maximo Park - A Certain Trigger

2005 was the year my favourite bands became more than a passing hobby, the year I slaved away at a double life reading my books in the daytime and drinking 70p spirit and mixers at dusk, the year I’d learn about new things through the anachronistic MySpace-trail and the year I became obsessed with Maxïmo Park.

Having seen the five-piece for the first time at the tail end of 2004, I think just before they were signed to Warp, I was fascinated. It was a new thing, and they had so much to get excited over. Lyrics that could have been hand-picked from an anthology, starchy guitar lines, swooping synths and right then, the best frontman I’d ever seen.I ordered a ‘The Coast Is Always Changing’ seven-inch and sought out old demos, watching in on their forum and reading fans connecting with each other over their personal tizz. And then A Certain Trigger came out, and I was gone.

I pre-ordered it,  it arrived signed (double ‘woo’ back then), and I listened to it daily. Previous to 2005, I’d gone to gigs on friends’ recommendations so I took this lot as the one I could finally run around and scream about. They were my gateway to Red House Painters, Life Without Buildings and The Go-Betweens amongst so many others, thanks to Paul Smith‘s interviews and multiple-minded generosity. Short, snappy songs arrived fully-formed and lodged themselves in my brain as an imperfect cadence on to the next stage.

With the benefit of four years since this initial obsession, I’ve encountered many people confused at my love of this band – people have found Smith pretentious, A Certain Trigger‘s snappiness short of substance and well, just a lack of originality. But these folks were wrong.

Back then, Maxïmo Park set the pace. They were producer Paul Epworth‘s B-team (Bloc Party crashing into the singles charts way earlier) in 2005 with my album of the year clocking in at under 45 minutes of perfectly-timed build-ups, time and key signature changes, and unique recollections such as the couple who were embarrassed to be together explored through the metaphor of a postcard of a painting in ‘Postcard Of A Painting’. There were ambiguities to obsess over, B-sides to be amazed by (‘Fear Of Falling’, ‘I Want You To Leave’) and live-shows chock-full of scissor-kicks, between-song rambles and such graciousness it felt like every audience member had been personally invited to the show.

And back to the album: take ‘Acrobat’, their spoken-word tear-jerker rarely performed live, a heart-breaking tale of a couple moving apart:

My foot nearly brushes your leg
I cant draw it away/I cant push it forward
It lies stranded
It belongs to someone else

And of course the stonking chimes of ‘Graffiti’, that powerful opening, the smashed-out chords segueing into addictive passages and yet more addictive passages:

There was this feeling of every note counting, as if they were recording on borrowed time, and of a record that became more and more enticing with every listen. Just how clinically the emotions were delivered offered a marked contrast with Smith’s stage persona: an actor, a showman earning his wage. A Certain Trigger is a perfect album designed for this kind of reaction, and I was just party to the cause.

Also in 2005:

I signed up to megafandom while trying to slave over my books, and split whatever time I had in between writing Zeitgeisty MySpace blogs and dancing at Candybox, Collide-a-Scope, Blow Up, Afterskool and Trash.

And let us not forget that Antony and the Johnsons‘ I Am A Bird Now won the Mercury Prize in 2005. It was a good year.

These were my other highlights:

Arcade Fire – Funeral
Broken Social Scene – Broken Social Scene
Kings Of Leon - Aha Shake Heartbreak
Okkervil River – Black Sheep Boy
Sun Kil Moon – Tiny Cities
The Boy Least Likely To – The Best Party Ever
Bloc Party – Silent Alarm
M.I.A. – Arular
The Go-Betweens – Oceans Apart
Art Brut – Bang Bang Rock & Roll
LCD Soundsystem - LCD Soundsystem
The National – Alligator
Clap Your Hands Say Yeah – Clap Your Hands Say Yeah
The Rakes – Capture/Release

Read more:
2000 | 2001 | 2002 | 2003 | 2004 | 2006 | 2007 | 2008 | 2009

Maximo Park – Acrobat New! Play This Song Now « Acrobat » « copy lyrics to clipboard (IE only) » « printer friendly version » Maximo Park – Acrobat at YouTube Acrobat – Maximo Park Send “Acrobat” Ringtone to your Cell You’ve got to catch an early plane, And its no surprise I’m standing still, Another minute more is all I need, I’ll never have enough, This room gets so cold in the winter, What will it take to heat this house? I just want to feel comfortable, When there’s only the two of us in my bed, My foot nearly brushes your leg, I cant draw it away, I cant push it forward, It lies stranded, It belongs to someone else, We knew each other once, This cant be what you want, But you didn’t have to demolish me, I don’t remember losing sight of your needs I don’t remember losing sight of your needs I am not an acrobat, I cannot perform these tricks for you, Losing all my balance, Falling from a wire made for you The sky is often used as a metaphor, I suppose its because its so big and expansive, When a long stranded cloud sits just above the horizon, Leaving a strip of clear blue beneath it, It becomes the panorama, And you turn your head 360 degrees, And the same line follows you round, If the land is sufficiently flat, Really nothing can be compared to it I dont remember losing sight of your needs I dont remember losing sight of your needs Your needs I am not an acrobat, I cannot perform these tricks for you, Losing all my balance, Falling from a wire made for you I am not an acrobat, I cant perform these tricks for you, Losing all my balance, Falling from a wire made for you Send “Acrobat” Ringtone to your Cell

Maxïmo Park - 12

Warp Records‘ premier guitar band Maxïmo Park have announced the release of a new remix EP on 12″, called ‘Twelve’. And this is exactly why we love them…

“It’s a classic format and we wanted to do something more ‘dance’ because Quicken The Heart is not only sparkling pop, but I find it promotes a wiggle of the backside and a brisk tap of the foot,” says singer of the Teesside favourites Paul Smith.

“Apart from the ‘I Want You To Stay’ b-sides, we’ve avoided remixes largely because we wanted to define ourselves outside of our famous label. We approached some artists we respect and put out the call for remixes. ‘Let’s Get Clinical’ proved popular with Clark (his remix is mental!), Tom Middleton (ultra-danceable!) and Hijacker (subtly addictive!), whereas dubstep pioneer Martyn fancied a crack at ‘A Cloud Of Mystery’ with intoxicating results. My vocal gets chopped up and completely mullered in versions that will hopefully appeal to new people as well as those of you with a toe in techno waters.”

More mixes will be available on download, such as ‘dub’ and ’1989′ versions by Tom Middleton. No, we don’t know what that means either.

“It comes in a nice fluoro-green sleeve and we’re gonna bring a few with us on tour tonight,” said Mr. Smith on Wednesday October 7, 2009. “They’re currently in transit and those going to the October shows in UK and Germany will have a first chance to hear this collection of beats and bleeps.”

Oh and another piece of news: they’ve covered Vincent Gallo’s ‘When’, and that will be available on Warp Records’ 20th anniversary box set, Warp20.

Now run off and have a nice cup of tea…

Maximo Park - Questing Not Coasting

The title of this latest release from Newcastle indie heroes Maximo Park is a fitting analogy for how their career has stalled.

But coasting they are. ‘Questing, Not Coasting’ contains none of the burning energy and pent-up sexual desire of early Park singles, with Paul Smith‘s typically enthusiastic vocal failing to excite or intrigue.

The lyrics do not help; “Hey you/I know your face/Hey you/Let’s go some place” is probably a fair shout for the dullest lyric Smith has ever written. At least back when all Maximo Park songs were about girls and the chasing thereof, it was a subject most people could relate to. This doesn’t seem to be about anything at all.

Neither are there any discernible changes of pace or tone, making it a banal and bland affair. It’s not the single to capitalise on the band’s triumphant show opening up at Glastonbury, that’s for sure.

It’s a real shame. The Park are a genuinely likeable band, Smith’s boyish charm always coming across well in interviews and such like, but more pretentious affairs like this will soon diminish the honest fanbase they have sought to build over the years.

East 17

25 June, 2009

Knowing that I’m never going to be arriving in time for Maxïmo Park opening the festival, I start off at The Queen’s Head for Alessi’s Ark. When I dragged friends to her show at the Camden Crawl, they swiftly complained of “more bloody folk music” and disappeared off to eat a burger, leaving me apologising for the noise they had made. This time however they are sticking around longer than a minute and her short set is winning over a couple of people who were waiting in line for cheeseburgers that day. They’re impressed with the unexpected power of her full band on tracks like ‘Glendora’, and as much as I love the gentler moments like The Horse I agree with them.

Having already been there once only to be told they’d be on at half ten instead, we head up to the Dance Lounge for East 17. Even without Tony Mortimer, they are decidedly poor. They had people wanting to hear their biggest hits and like any band would they left ‘Stay Another Day’, ‘Alright’ and ‘If You Ever’ (I’d forgotten that this song isn’t all that bad) to the end. They’ve had a dozen top 10s to choose from yet they still plumped for songs so obscure that even those equipped with banners shrugged. Bizarre call-and-response and wisdom on the BNP gives the whole thing an air of a student’s union gig, frankly. The only really memorable thing about the set is that the story about Michael Jackson’s death birthed itself as an SMS and Twitter rumour, and by the time we get halfway back to our tents, it’s been confirmed.

A lot has been said about the effect Jackson’s death had on the festival; for most there’s a sense of being overcome with grief, yet many of those at the festival weren’t even born when he was releasing the brilliant, brilliant pop music that eclipses the tabloid freak-show of the past decade-and-a-half. It ‘s one of shock and ultimately, sadness. Like Elvis before him, not every reference years from now will be concentrated solely on his music. One thing everyone that night agreed on, though, was that were he playing on the Pyramid Stage at any point, we’d have been there. Likewise food vans, DJs and bars on site all stop playing La Roux’s ‘In for the Kill’ for five minutes to pay tribute. Thank them.

The Brain

The difficulty is that the any conception of Good necessarily contains a subjectiveness; even the open-eared draw the line somewhere. Although by some sort of standards drawn perhaps out of thin air, it must somehow be possible to dismiss some conceptions of Good as having no valid justification.

For me, goodness contains and requires so much (though of course not finitely, for that would be going too far in the way of the objective and crossing the line towards the overly-forumlaic): lyrics, texture, structure, elucidation, instrumentation, melody, harmony, performance, narrative – perhaps even being memorable. But if one or more of these elements is absent, it does not mean to say that the failure to tick a box necessarily leads to failure of the non-test. It is moreover the fact of reference to some justificatory criteria -as opposed to none at all – which I find persuasive in accepting other peoples’ tastes. And this is where the crux lies.

Without even an attempt at subjective reasoning, I fail to objectively (subjectively objectively?) see how a person’s taste can withhold even their own psyche. Given, not everything needs a reason, but here I feel that music is something which stands weaker alone than with benefit of being backed up with an interpretation of some sort, something which is linked. Although is “linked” not subjective? There are many hurdles.

One crucial anomaly is as per ‘fans’ of music that I deem as having no objective good; I see no possibility for objective good in music performed without feeling. Feeling, accepted, is on my interpretation, but I think it unmistakeable that there is an objective level of feeling forming a dichotomy with automatism (not acquiescence). I suppose I could be seen as a hypocrite for having listened to ‘pop’, performed by artists other than the songwriters, but then again I see no harm in separating my musical experiences into different whys, wheres, whos and hows. And what for a band whose drummer writes the lyrics?

Forget that, let’s go one step further: I can appreciate Girls Aloud on a completely different level to how I appreciate Life Without Buildings. The same applies to any attempted distinction between Cat Power and Madonna. So I’ve ended up switching the focus from my interpretation of music, to my interpretation of the performer, somewhere I didn’t really foresee the argument going. In returning back to the question of whether there is some objective level of musical good, there’s surely another strand that’s been left out – I don’t feel that on a mere couple of listens to a track that music can be fully appreciated.

Is this objective? Well, the casual listener’s argument of subjective good can, in my mind, be superceded by that of the listener who has seen the artist live, listened to the songs repeatedly, built up their back catalogue, listened carefully to the lyrics (these are all just examples of what comes to mind when recalling my connection with my favourite artists) and referring back to a previous point, a consumer (if that’s the most appropriate moniker) has an objectively better case to argue for an artist whom they’ve partaken in these activities with (albeit the passive ‘with’). But is that fair? Whose fault is it that person’s favourite band are an Icelandic hip-hop collective they’ve no hope in hell of ever seeing live, let alone listened to interviews with. This is highly contentious as well, but I reckon that y’s appreciation based on the one single they’ve heard on the radio can’t objectively be as convincing a case as z’s, who’s actually bothered to read about the band, listen to more, and generally be more pro-active. There are two further qualifications though:

1. How much can you ever find out about an artist without knowing them personally? Or further, without actually being them?
2. Who’s to say that such self-important attitudes regarding music appreciation and the utilitarian desire to spread the word are the way forward? Well, certainly me but that’s not everything.

Aside from the aside, to say that this is all just opinion would be weak at this point but to an extent I must return to that perspective because with the plethora of ‘good’ music available these days, it is not possible for every ‘valid’ fan to listen to it all. But I still hold that there lies an impermeable membrane between the objectively good and the subjectively good although I’m ever unsure why. How can anyone argue the case for Mika over Kate Bush? Green Day over Funkadelic? Wagner over Debussy? Why do I feel like I’m being more controversial when I bring to mind the last comparison? Is it any less dichotomous to anyone other than myself? Maybe the whole thing’s just a defence mechanism kicking in instead of accepting the reality that humanity is gullible, disappointing and surprising in equal measures.

So it’s not the use of my particular criteria which I feel distinguish the credible from the not-so- (for lack of a better turn of phrase), but instead merely the reference to criteria as opposed to none at all. This is true for any argument – a means of persuasion has greater strength by reference to commonly held principles than one based on mere instinct. I realise I may be contradicting myself in part, but I think that’s because of the amount of time I’ve spent thinking about this – and it’s undoubtedly positive for me to be questioning my own perceptions. I think I think that subjectiveness is always the default, but for me the problem with this is that it deems all music reviews of little worth.

Perhaps this is the case though? Regardless, I tend to return to “the criteria” when listening to music I deem ‘not good’ – I reason in my own mind why it lacks the qualities that my favourite music possesses. And I then return to the theoretical approach, but with a greater focus on looking at similiarites and differences across a repertoire of an artist. This is mainly why I respect The Beatles; I think no other band has or is likely to compose such a hugely innovative and varied back catalogue, yet sound so distinctly idiosyncratic. There’s certainly a massive proviso – history is on The Beatles side, and if they’d never formed (and found George Martin) then some other band may have come along and used the recording techniques they utilised in ‘A Day In The Life’, but looking at the music industry now it’s clear to see how that song really did break down boundaries. Of ambition, as well as substance.

This is not to say that musical goodness is synonymous with the quantification of how many current artists were influenced by the original artist – in fact, far from it. Again this returns to the point I made earlier, that it is not certain criteria which comprise ‘goodness’, it is instead merely the reference to some criteria. It’s ok to like whatever you want to like, provided you actually like it. But there’s yet another proviso – why does “like” necessarily go hand-in-hand with “think”? For me, that’s because it does. But for others? That can’t be objective. As a sidenote, I think that ‘good’ is a weak description but instinctively, we use it merely to separate the music (or anything else) we like from the music we don’t. It’s an easy operator, and moreover, a convenient comparator.

The intentions of the music have to be important too, regardless of whether I’ve convinced myself out of the case for the objective good – and I think with great pop (what even IS pop?), there’s nothing wrong with listening to it. I’ve said it once with Girls Aloud, but some of the latest album is pretty challenging structurally and in its harmonies. Not so with the Spice Girls, but is nostalgia objective? This is brain-frying, ultimately.

On a very basic level, something which I have only touched on so far is the importance of whether the performer is also the songwriter – and it is clear to see that this is the main reason why ‘pop’ (i.e. commericial music making the top 10 and appreciated mainly by tweenies) is so easily and often dismissed, and I’ve been thinking about the concept of lyrics ‘intentionally made simple’. Whilst I think that it detracts from the possibility of the song being deemed ‘good’, I also wonder whether by default (or necessary antithesis), musicians who calculate every minute detail of their material could also be guilty of the same thing.

Take Field Music: one of my favourite bands, whose second album Tones Of Town is one of my favourite and most defining albums of the century thus far. It is immediately obvious to notice that every note, every chord, every change in time signature, has been done for a reason. I suppose this is different in that the reason it has been done is for exactly the opposite reason as that of the ‘over-simplified lyrics’ example, but playing devil’s advocate, who is to say that the manipulation is of any greater worth? Both are acts involving the demarcation of an ideal listenership. Thus I think it does come back to the same thing – whether the performers have had anything to do with the writing process. And my manipulation point links back once again, as if the listener/consumer/audience can see that the performer has been manipulated (again though I question whether there is a degree of this everywhere in the self-manipulation of performance), then that would provide some instinctive basis against a high ‘goodness’ score.

I think this comes down to something very similar to ‘the social function’ of the artist, creating something fairly akin to a presumption that ‘pop’ has to ‘do’ a lot more in order to gain respect, whereas music consciously and intricately written almost sets out on the other foot, creating expectations of high ‘goodness’, but perhaps facing harder critique because of this.

My motive for this thought process isn’t purely one of self-entertainment, but instead, I am thinking out loud to try and effect a change in those I consider ill-educated, or brain-starved. So this goes back to the self-obsession point. And again, the more I think, the more I seem to theorise – the concept of a ‘goodness’ score also is something that I have trouble with, but this has made me think a bit deeper still, as who is to ever say that anything can ever be marked by anything other than subjective criteria? This is because I have just thought about music which technically possesses all of the criteria I deem as facilitating/constituting ‘goodness’, yet for some unattributable reason, I do not deem accessible or enjoyable.

Equally, fitting new music into existing definitions of what one likes can potentially keep a person from hearing extremely difficult, yet wonderful, music, or can keep one from enjoying a simple, stupid, (yet fantastic) pop song. That’s the necessary antithesis of the whole criteria thing too though. It’s one hugely vicious circle, and I love it so.

Maxïmo Park's Paul Smith

April 27, 2009

If you’re expecting a review in the typical sense, take a deep breath and forget about it.

Yesterday I realised that this Brixton Academy show makes for the 10th time I have seen this clearly dearly beloved Teesside five-piece live. Over a five-year period starting with a Futureheads support slot, I have less-than-gradually succumbed to a point where I hoard a collection of B-sides, demos, covers… look, I’m obsessed with Pavement and other such but this is different. It’s now.

From the umlaut to the stage quirks, Maxïmo Park are the sort of band it’s natural to fall in love with. And gone now is the book prop of the early days; it’s been replaced with something far more big-scale, namely professionalism. I can recall figureheads for every single one of the nine shows: Brixton Academy in 2007, A Certain Trigger is played in order, Paul Smith almost (I think ‘almost’) cries after playing ‘Acrobat’ for one of the first times; a cover of The Go-Betweens‘ ‘I Haven’t Seen Her In Ages’ at The Forum last year, in the encore; ‘Once, A Glimpse’ at the Vinyl Factory in London with different lyrics read from a book (nameless, I think).  Let’s not even get into the scissor-kick/falling-less-than-gracefully-into-a-heap-on-the-floor incident at Camden Barfly in January 2005.

Oh gosh. Darn it, it’s nostalgia. And how I cringe. I like the now, I live for it; this is just embarassing. Which is why being sat down in the circle at Brixton Academy to see the Park is the strangest thing that could ever happen. Call me uneducated in health and safety regulations, but what is this about? It’s like the dream I had once where I was in a dancing establishment and being charged 20p per dance move. Back to the now – every time I so much as twitch from my paraplegic state, I can feel the beady eyes of the employed security guards (and the punters, damn them) surrounding me, waiting to pounce and protect me from myself. It’s strange. Can’t we, as a crowd, somehow overpower this? No, no, we’re conformists. I’m one of them too, that’s the worst thing.

The thing about live music that compels me to engage with it on about 50 per cent of evenings is the involvement; the connection; the feeling of looking into the artist’s eyes and feeling their excitement. Seeing the songs in their natural form as well as hearing them, watching the interplay, looking at people’s instinctive physical reactions and garnering the joy that emits from the songs. It’s organic. Sitting upstairs in the circle is quite simply the most sterile, abortive and valueless experience a gig-goer should ever have to encounter. I can’t even see what’s happening downstairs, let alone get up. It’s like watching Live With <insert your favourite band’s name here> on a pay-TV music channel at your grandparents’ house. It’s simply godawful.

So I’m left with audio and let’s just say it sounds like the PA has been dragged headfirst through a tsunami, it’s that muddy. I lean forward and catch the occasional glimpse of one of the finest frontmen of my generation flailing around the stage like a matchstick man, Lukas on keyboards as frenetic as ever. The between-song talking seems to have been censored a tad, which is a shame as I’m clutching at things to connect with.

Here’s what I can tell you, which is pretty futile. Much like my existence here:

• that single-note bassline on ‘Your Urge’ is so easy to slip by, but its effect is absolutely startling. And lyrically, that song is extremely extremely sad
• ‘Now I’m All Over The Shop’ is back in the setlist, but where have ‘Postcard Of A Painting’ and ‘Russian Literature’ gone?
• this band have got a pretty phenomenal back catalogue now
• anyone who says they peaked too early should really compare ‘Limassol’ with ‘Tanned’, via ‘Books From Boxes’ – it’s a different sound entirely
• I’ll do graffiti if anyone sings to me in French
• ‘Let’s Get Clinical’ is absolutely tongue-in-cheek, though this of course was obvious
• Maxïmo Park are still the most gracious band you’re ever likely to see
• too much strobe-lighting is grossly unpleasant
• there is filler in the ~16-song set: ‘The Penultimate Clinch’ and ‘Girls Who Play Guitar’ feel a tad gratuitous
• we’re still waiting for the album where the Park step up and become even more of a tour de force
• ‘Roller Disco Dreams’ has the most oversized chorus I’ve ever heard
• the new prop of choice may well be a megaphone
• Our Earthly Pleasures clearly isn’t in favour on the tourbus…
• Lukas (keys) may well be planning to take over the world – or at least the electronics are getting evermore prevalent
• ‘Questing, Not Coasting’ is the next single, surely the easiest option
• the way they package clever lyrics and extremely intricate song structures into something this easy to take in is still simply phenomenal and unrivalled

Ach well. That was a delightful run down… bring on the 11th showing, I’ll be at the front.

Maxïmo Park

May 14, 2009

Is it just me, or have Maxïmo Park become quietly huge? It only dawned on me that they were a big deal now when I saw them placed third from top on this year’s Reading/Leeds Main Stage bill. It’s not surprising, then, that most of this tour is sold out, and even less surprising that the two Newcastle dates were the first to do so. Expectations are high, but the crowd is partisan – that much is clear from the opening bars of ‘The Coast Is Always Changing’, the crowd in full voice throughout.

But how does the new material compare to the classics? Sirens blaring, ‘Wraithlike’ holds its own against the euphoric opener, with Paul Smith evidently enjoying the use of his new megaphone prop. The megaphone crops up again during ‘The Kids Are Sick Again’, which stands out mostly due to the fact that it’s the only other new song a lot of people appear to know. However, the rest of the material from Quicken The Heart somehow doesn’t have the same impact. It’s not that the new songs are bad, per say, but none of them particularly stand out as highlights of the set . For me, the lone exception comes during the band’s encore, with ‘Questing, Not Coasting’ making its mark with a stirring chorus that more than makes up for the almost cringe-worthy line that precedes it (“Hey you, what’s new?/I know your face/Hey you, what’s new?/Let’s go some place”). The live setting fails to mask clumsy lyrics elsewhere however – for example, ‘Let’s Get Clinical’s rhyming of ‘criminal’ and ‘clinical’ just comes off as cheesy.

But – and this is a huge “but”, one that almost makes the entirety of the above paragraph redundant – despite the apparent shortcomings of the new material, Maxïmo Park are still a brilliant live band. Every single track taken from their first two records is a standout, without exception. ‘Limassol’ still burns with righteous, vehement anger, and ‘The Unshockable’ is its partner in crime in intense indie-pop. But the crucial difference is that the old songs really seem to touch a nerve that the new ones haven’t yet reached (for me, at least). The likes of ‘Books From Boxes’ and ‘I Want You To Stay’ come across as genuinely emotive in a way that the band have struggled to match with their new material. Maybe that’s the problem – the new songs feel run-of-the-mill by comparison. Sure, the opportunity to hear the band’s new material played live was welcome, but I couldn’t help but wish to hear a ‘By The Monument’ or ‘Parisian Skies’  instead – never mind the inexplicably omitted ‘Graffiti’. Perhaps it’s just a matter of time, and once the new songs burrow their way into our brains all will be well again…

…oh, who am I kidding – all it takes to make things right is the triumphant three-minute blast of ‘Apply Some Pressure’, the ultimate reminder of the band’s capabilities. The new material might not quite match up to the old (at least, not yet), but to write off Maxïmo Park’s as a live band because of it would be very foolish indeed.

Maxïmo Park - The Kids Are Sick Again

‘The Kids Are Sick Again’ is the appetiser to Maxïmo Park’s forthcoming third album Quicken the Heart. They’re back folks and this time they seem touchy, paranoid and a damn sight more serious. The song begins with sweeping electro bass clatter, and probing drums before vocalist Paul Smith arrives to sing about restless, mundane aspects of the suburban life “Pointless days pining/Afternoons whining/The suburbs scream/At passers by”. Punchy guitar carelessly drifts in and out like a crisp packet blowing down a quiet cul-de-sac.

‘The Kids are Sick Again’ builds and builds, and makes a futile attempt to be uplifting but for whatever reason the track stutters around the two minute mark and never catches flight. Ending with the ominous repetition of “The kids are sick again/Nothing to look forward to/They jumped the cliff again/Future sinks beneath the blue”.

Charismatic front man Paul Smith is usually the electric spark that makes Maxïmo Park appealing with his perceptive lyrics and distinctly poetic delivery. On ‘The Kids Are Sick Again’ he takes a while to get going, almost as if he is shaking off the rust. I am baffled about what Smith is actually saying in this song, is it a paean about his own school days, or a sociological observation about the youth of today and their apparent bleak prospects? Because it’s hard to believe a 30-year-old bloke [Ed - don't quote us on that] is down with the kids.

If we look at the bands that Maxïmo Park were lumped together with when they first broke through, the second wave of guitar bands post-Is this It if you will. The likes of Franz Ferdinand, The Futureheads, Bloc Party and The Kaiser Chiefs, then album number three has proved to be a bit of a sticking point for this illustrious grouping. The dilemma facing these bands is whether they continue to churn out another album in the formula that they have perfected (as Franz and the Kaisers have done). Do they go experiMENTAL (Bloc Party’s Intimacy) or do they find themselves victims of musical Darwinism and sadly fall away (The Futureheads)?

What we wanted was either a genuine new direction from Maxïmo Park or alternatively something perky and familiar. What we get is something that sounds like Maxïmo Park have always done, only tenser, perhaps teasing that Quicken the Heart will not veer far from the path well trodden.

Maxïmo Park - Quicken The Heart

It’s overcast outside, dull as two-year-old drizzle, so what can we do to pass the time? Oh hold on there’s a lightbulb emitting its soul around the circumference of our musoish brain: let’s liveblog our reaction to the new Maxïmo Park LP, Quicken The Heart. You can live through us that way. You trust us implicitly, right? Just hit F5… coming up very very soon!!! It will begin at 12pm…

If you’re hanging on the refresh button, here’s some background – it’s genuinely the first time I’ll have listened to the new album. For real. Watch my mind unfold before your very eyes. Not just any mind, but a ‘Park afficcionado‘s mind.

From what we’ve read so far, criticisms have centred around Smith’s vocals being “irksome” or something. Which is, well, a bit selfish. They’ve consistently proven themselves one of the most diversely influenced bands out there in the semi-mainstream. Their B-sides over the years are worth seeking out, so very worth seeking out – edging towards alt.country, eulogic folk paeans, way more than that. So the fact that we’re now at album three has created quite some stir round these parts.

It’s 11.59, it’s almost time…

It’s 12.00, it’s time!

(1) ‘Wraithlike’ - Oh there we go, album title referenced. We’ve heard this already, it’s available for free from the website. It’s messy rather than startling, not particularly noticeable though. It ought to get better than this… though we’ve never been one for their album openers: see ‘Girls Who Play Guitars’ and ‘Signal and Sign’, two of their weakest tracks.

(2) ‘The Penultimate Clinch’ – Infiltratingly repetitive, sounds angrier than usual MP fare. “On my return I will smother you”, I think Smith just sung. It’s quite scuzzy, the production has entirely revamped the band’s sound from this alone. It’s about a relationship coming to an end, and it’s some sort of wonderful mix of desperate and peaking (at least towards the end).

(3) ‘The Kids Are Sick Again’ – Well after the last track, this is altogether much more what we’ve come to expect. Lyrically astounding, as ever, ‘Wraithlike’ has an epic build-up. It’s a tease, this one. It epitomises the haters’ misunderstandings; where ‘peers’ like Voxtrot (or I don’t know, someone else – hell, I’m under a strict time limit) use the music to reflect the lyrics, the two are almost completely at odds here. A feeling of social dissatisfaction set against a massive anthem with seemingly quadruple-tracked chanting vocals at the end is more than baffling.

(4) ‘A Cloud Of Mystery’ – Oh wow. It’s all dancey. Maybe it IS their dance album? Oh no, the twinkly keys have started. The stalkerish bass is still there though. How interesting is this – it’s about creating a cloud of mystery around yourself and how ridiculous it is. What a knack Smith has with a dictionary. “Why can’t we always meet under a cloud of mystery?” It actually sounds nothing like anything they’ve done before. This will NEVER be released as a single, surely? It’s a song of at least two parts – really staccato verses, and then  back to swirling choruses. Interesting.

(5) ‘Calm’ – What, it’s ambient? No way. Oh no just for the first few bars. At first glance it sounds a tad throwaway but it’s got a core of sadness. Calm doesn’t mean calm, it means solemn, disorientated, denying… possibly. Quicken The Heart is completely unpredictable thus far, lacking the flow of Our Earthly Pleasures entirely. It’s pretty heavy this one too. Lovely interplay between guitar and bass at the end stretch. Almost screeched out vocals at the end. Phew, exhausting.

(6) ‘In Another World (You Would’ve Found Yourself By Now)’ - It’s so bitter. Venomous.  Sounds a little like XTC initially. Lots of counter-melodies tapping away at each other, quite confusing. And maybe finally the lyrics are reflected in the instruments? Though chocka with extended metaphors, it may just be the band’s most straight-forward moment yet. It’s like “no matter what you try and do, everyone will still know who you are”. “You can change the people around you but you’ll still be at its centre”.

(7) ‘Let’s Get Clinical’ – Is this a play on ‘Let’s Get Physical’? It’s extremely primal. There’s even some “ooh”-ing sounding a bit like sex. Pretty filthy. Talking about circumnavigation. Of the body. Starry-eyed harmonies too. It’s either ineffectual or marvellous, need more listens. Heading towards the former apart from the suddenly sparse bits towards the end – masterful production all the same, moving seamlessly between textures and completely surprising me in the process.

(8) ‘Roller Disco Dreams’ - “It’s a song about the early period of a romance where you want to put on the brakes and enjoy the moment”, says Paul Smith. “YOU RESUSCITATE ME”, he screams. The fascination with time, as from Our Earthly Pleasures, is back. This album is much more personal than the last, though of course still set in the abstract. I can imagine this on the dancefloor. Sonically, the closest to A Certain Trigger that Maxïmo Park have been since, well, A Certain Trigger.

(9) ‘Tanned’ - Oh yeah, the one with the Lynryd Skynryd riffs. Massive departure. Yes, the beat does sound like The Fall, but that’s not all – the “woo-woo”-ing is all dreampoppy, then heading into a feedbacky section. This is fantastic. Again, it’s about sex. This is phenomenal, I want to listen to it over again. The keyboard stuff at the end is from another planet.

(10) ‘Questing, Not Coasting’ - Track 10, already? Wow. It’s a series of dialogue quite possibly, framed by some great rockout moments. Yes, I just said ‘rockout moments’. Oversized chorus too. Everything’s taken up at least 20 notches for the choruses and it never goes back down again, only builds and builds until it bursts. Can’t quite work out what’s going on in the narrative but that will come with time. Is it essential? Not sure yet.

(11) ‘Overland, West Of Suez’ - Ow. Dirty. It’s all ’60s. The backing vocals are delirious, there’s just so much feedback. Is this really the same band that first got noticed with ‘The Coast Is Always Changing’? It’s extremely dense, there’s truly lots and lots going on here. And then it goes psychedlic at the end, how unexpected. Just briefly, mind. Boundless. I haven’t been listening to the lyrics actually, it’s too much for one listen.

(12) ‘I Haven’t Seen Her In Ages’ - Oh no I’ve got the fear again – I haven’t usually liked last tracks on Maxïmo Park LPs either (see ‘Parisian Skies’ and ‘Kiss You Better’). And it’s all about time and relationships again – maybe it’s a slow-burner… why do they always have a completely breathtaking penultimate track and then restore sonic balance with something far calmer sounding? Maybe I’ve misinterpreted. This one is superfluous, at least for now.

Overall verdict? Mostly fantastic, more instant than the rest, more complex, more variation, a couple of tracks of filler (the bookstops, once again). Forget the criticisms about the band being stuck in a sound (and “if it ain’t broke don’t fix it) - this IS a departure, at least at some moments. Be excited, it’s as much of a progression as you’ll have come to expect. I’m going to listen to it again now, in a more private domain…