Review: Coexist - The xx

A Mercury prize and UK Top 10 album in 2010 threw the dreamy vocals and understated beats of The xx onto to the mainstream music scene. After a year off they return with eagerly awaited second studio album Coexist.

Inspired by club music and centred on love, Coexist is a musical work of art, held together by Jamie Smith’s almost flawless production. The break was obviously good for the band, as this record is more intense, and yet somehow more spacious, than their debut. Like the multi-coloured oil and water design on the sleeve, the tracks run and blend into one another in a steady stream of emotion. However, it’s clear that this was intended more as a dance record than XX was, with undulating club beats bringing definition to Reunion and Sunset.

There are unmistakable throwbacks to older material on tracks like Missing, where the sound at times resembles the more sophisticated from the first album like Infinity and Fantasy. Generally, Coexist is more considered and cohesive than its predecessor though, presenting itself as a more conceptual album by a band who have become more mature and experienced in what they are doing. Try and Unfold are its weaker moments, becoming a little vague and nondescript in sound, but these songs still work within the album context in a way that VCR and Basic Space seemed to disappoint owing to their anomalous reversion to straight pop.

Lyrically, the album is characteristically minimalistic, but Oliver and Romy’s vocals bring a profound, heartfelt quality to simple lines like ‘Were we torn apart/By the break of day’ and ‘What have you done/With the one I love’. It’s believable and utterly romantic, an album to fall in love to. The sound Jamie has created ripples and shimmers, oscillating around the whispered vocal with a harmony that has made this band famous. Many of the tracks, like Reunion and Missing, suddenly break off in the middle before starting up again in a pulsing beat, making it an album that could be started at any point and still make sense. As the band decided to stream Coexist before its formal release, this really became the case as there was little definition between tracks when played as a whole album, meaning that it really could flow from beginning to end.

For this reason, it seems somewhat appropriate that the standout pieces are in fact the beginning and the end. The opening chimes of Angels entice almost hypnotically as Romy’s ‘Light reflects from your shadow/It is more than I thought could exist’ pull us in further. Refrain ‘Being as in love with you as I am’ summarises the whole of Coexist instantly. At the other end of the album, concluding track Our Song is shudderingly beautiful in its simplicity. It’s a reflection on love and being in love, and performs perfectly as an understated showstopper, a memory of the intensity of the album as a whole.

Coexist demonstrates an exploration of genres, and takes the best parts of XX and refashions them in an entirely different way, in a thirty-seven-minute love song ‘with words unspoken/A silent devotion/I know you know what I mean’. And anyone who has listened to this album certainly does.

KLH

London Calling

The year is 2012 and in case we’d forgotten it’s plastered over pens, cushions, shampoo bottles, camera cases, and the rest of the crappy Olympics ‘official products’ that will be lining our bins by the time they start playing Christmas songs on the radio (late August?). This celebrated time of great sportsmanship has provided an opportunity for us Britons to really showcase the nuances of excellence within our dear nation to the rest of the big, wide world. And the tip of the iceberg in this wonderful exhibition? The ceremonial costumes.  Deep purple (to reflect our rich monarchical history no doubt) and with little hats not unlike that of Kate Middleton or an air hostess, these costumes are what one would call ‘really smart’. Being British of course, we’ve had to add something a tiny bit eccentric, and that addition is (of course) the zip. These zips, according to the official people (whoever they are) are to reference something evidently as equal to our heritage as the Queen - punk.

As it has now been verified that punk is Very Important to Britain, it seems odd that for the last three days all I’ve heard on Radio 1 has been Wiley’s new track Heatwave (in which the female singer seems to be deluded enough to think that ‘party’ rhymes with ‘body’ – so much so that she repeats it incessantly) perfectly complemented by the delightful tones of Mr. Sheeran (which leave me wanting to hit myself repeatedly round the head with a rock rather than endure any more). Known overseas for being a bit different and not quite elegant, we are now fuelled by the same easy-dance tunes, the same let’s-all-be-tanned attitude; our popular culture is nondescript and we’re more bothered about how much Coleen weighs than the NHS reforms. Where’s punk gone now?

Not long ago BBC4 showed ‘Punk Britannia’; a three-part series looking back over the movement. A 56-year-old John Lydon sat on a sofa and talked, all bleached spiked hair and diamond jumper, and it was sad. Uncontroversial on Question Time, it seems that the man synonymous with punk, Johnny Rotten, has grown up and become reasonable and decent, those traits valued by the British traditionalists against whom Johnny and the Sex Pistols were protesting with their public swearing and rowdy gigs. Britain has changed since punk, and attempts to re-create it in its raw form would be futile and clichéd. The presence of age on punk heroes is flicking the harsh overhead light on something almost idealistic in springing from disillusionment. If the punk greats are old, is punk old? 

What we need in music is for people to give a damn, but to be spontaneous about it. Modern technology is fabulous and all, but we don’t always need layers of synth hiding or making up for a decent melody, and we definitely don’t need auto-tune to make the pitchy note-perfect. There’s still nothing better than being sat in a café or a greasy-floored venue somewhere listening to a local band playing guitar and singing, not yet permeated by the expectations of the wider music industry. Arctic Monkeys’ and The Strokes’ debut albums are still their best, whatever NME claims. Punk harnessed youth and determination, and there’s no rule to say we all need to be 21^st-century sophisticated now (unless you’re the Vaccines: in which case, you really could do with a bit more substance). A modern version does exist in bars and small festivals all over the country. As we are constantly reminded, the internet means that any band can put their stuff online for all to hear; it’s merely a case of finding the good stuff. The good stuff includes bands like Kagoule and The Creeping Ivies: very different from each other, these bands would not be classed as punk and yet both reap the influence of the movement while maintaining a clear sense of individuality and freaking good music.

Unfortunately, back in Olympics Britain, it’s apparent commercialism has won out. Johnny Rotten appeared in a Country Life butter ad and the anti-establishment message of punk is now being referenced in an event glorifying that establishment. It’s almost surprising that the Jubilee wasn’t as naively commemorated with a Sex Pistols-inspired mug (2 for £9.99 from all good retailers!).

The Creeping Ivies - Ghost Train

Kagoule - Monarchy

KLH

Dot to Dot 2012

As is expected alongside any event involving the word ‘festival’, Sunday was cold and rainy. Luckily, Dot to Dot is an inside festival, taking place across the various venues in Bristol, Nottingham and Manchester. However, the ‘dot to dot’ part meant running across the city between acts, to arrive at the next club shivering and dripping rainwater from your fringe. Despite this, however, Dot to Dot made for a good day out, especially as I would pay 20 quid to see some of the acts individually.

Upon arriving I caught the end of Barnum Meserve, an alternative rock band hailing from Nottingham. While I feel some irrational desire to love every local band going, this one was largely unmemorable: the fact that I had to YouTube them to remember what they sounded like demonstrates the impression they made. Over at Jongleurs comedy club, Kagoule (also from Nottingham) set a more positive tone for the day with their 90s-influenced shoegaze. As a very, very amateur (crap) bass player myself, I enjoyed watchingfemale bassist/vocalist Lucy who to the untrained eye seemed very chilled, and inspired me to pick up my own bass which is slowly gathering dust. Luckily, being young and local Kagoule are regulars on the Nottingham gig scene, so I look forwards to seeing them play again soon.

The part of Hot Japanese Girl’s set that I was fortunate enough to witness consisted of four not-exactly-young guys (thetype you can imagine sitting on the sofa playing games and eating Chinese) making a lot of noise. Not that I’m adverse to a lot of noise; just this wasn’t good noise. After ten minutes of this delight, I retreated to the familiar comfort of Rock City main hall, where Lucy Rose was playing. Female vocalist on Bombay Bicycle Club’s acoustic album Flaws, Lucy is now a folk-pop artist in her own right. The room was full and the crowd was contentedly singing along to singles Middle of the Bed and Scar, highlighting the progression Lucy has made since I last saw her at City. However, she remained endearingly down-to-earth, interacting with the crowd throughout.

Image: Lucy Rose Music

Lucy Rose and the crazy headshaking impression

Down in the basement, 19 year old Lewis Watson from Oxford began a promising set; your typical singer-songwriter/uke combination. In retrospect I think I may have been swayed by his relative attractiveness rather than distinctive talent, as by the time I left the room twenty minutes later his vocal metamorphosis into Ed Sheeran was complete, signified by my intense cringing at the growing congregation of swooning 14year olds and lyrical originality of ‘and I’d climb a thousand mountains just to meet you at the summit’. I turned and fled.

And just in time to see experimental beatbox artist aptly named The PETEBOX! After the dulcet tones of Lewis Watson it was an immense relief to be watching a man who looked like he was giving his microphone a blowjob for much of his performance. To be fair, his use of equipment to create live tracks, both his own and covers, was pretty impressive and certainly added novelty and entertainment to the day. His concluding rendition of Pixies’ ‘Where Is My Mind?’ created a halcyon atmosphere in the main hall with everyone singing and swaying nostalgically, a little unsure of whether what they had just witnessed was for real.

Image: Stephanie Webb 

Hi future husband!

This is the point at which I turn into arepulsive fangirl over my favourite act of the festival (no, not Lewis Watson)– Jake Bugg! Being eighteen, from Nottingham and basically quite attractive I’ve been following him (in the metaphorical sense, obviously) for quite some time now. After his most recent single ‘Lightning Bolt’ was Radio 1 DJ Zane Lowe’s Track of the Week, Jake has become more well-known in the mainstream market and has performed other tracks ‘Trouble Town’ and ‘Country Song’ on Jools Holland. His country-style vocals seemed just as prominent live as on record, and new track ‘Saffron’ was my personal favourite. The calm confidence on stage shows the effect that the past few months, supporting Michael Kiwanuka in Europe and appearing on television, has had on this Nottingham lad, and I will be interested to see how he develops further in the run-up to his album release in the autumn.

Back at Jongleurs, sister act 2:54 played a dreamy, ethereal set (at least, after the microphones were sorted out) involving a lot of red lipstick and hair-flicking which went down well with the crowd. They were followed by Frank Carter’s new band Pure Love, who, after the hardcore punk reputation of Gallows, seemed fairly accessible but still retaining plenty of spirit. Frank Carter spent the whole set in the middle ofthe crowd, shouting ‘you can’t fucking contain me!’ at the security guards suggesting he return to the stage. Considering I hadn’t actually bothered to listen to any of Pure Love’s material, their set was one of the most memorable and shows a promising start for the band.

Image: Gary Stafford

Frank just chillin' with the audience

Near the top of the Dot to Dot bill were Nottingham five-piece Dog is Dead, a band whose music has a similar effect on me to that of Bombay Bicycle Club (it leaves me grinning like an idiot). Despite the fact that the band are yet to release a full studio album, enough of the single and EP tracks were known by the crowd to make for a dynamic 45minutes, including curly-haired Trev playing the saxophone and the enthusiastic jumping to tracks like ‘Glockenspiel Song’, ‘River Jordan’ and ‘Young’. Meanwhile at Jongleurs, the energy was equally present as Wavves performed weed-fuelled songs to a crowd soaking up the Californian sunshine vibes filling the room.

By the time of headline act Pulled Apart By Horses my legs and back were aching like nothing else on earth, so I watched from a safer position off the left-hand side rather than indulging in the madness in the centre of the room. However, this did give me ample opportunity to watch a man in his 50s jumping up and down, shouting lyrics and raising his hands in ‘rock on’ gestures at the stage while his remarkably patient wife watched from the sidelines with a pained look on her face. I missed the second half of the set owing to my keenness to see Summer Camp at Rescue Rooms. After a good ten minutes fighting through the outside smoking area where drunken people were playing percussion instruments and dancing under a gazebo, I finally got in to discover that the band had pulled out, and, too tired and deflated to stay for Friends (who were given a disappointing live write-up in NME a few weeks ago), had to promptly fight my way back through to the haven of the freezing rain outside.

Dot to Dot 2012 provided a decent varietyof acts and showcased the local talent and venues, reinforcing my ultimate belief in the Nottingham music scene (hey, at least I’m not from Oxford, eh!).The fact that a range of well-established acts like The Drums and Pulled Apart By Horses were playing alongside smaller acts highlights the versatility of this indoor festival with a very competitive price. This in combination with the cities involved is important for demonstrating that there are possibilities outside of London for events like these, and that smaller, more experimental acts hold great prominence in influencing the wider UK music scene, keeping it as varied and fresh as it currently seems.

KLH

The Cribs + Crocodiles + Martin Creed

A third trip to Rock City, Nottingham since Valentines Day on May 7th meant that I would be in the crowd for Yorkshire family trio The Cribs, with two support bands (Crocodiles and Martin Creed). This would prove to be a very eventful gig, from hat-wearing hissing men on stage to an air-guitar-playing and alone lad in the crowd.

First up was Wakefield born Martin Creed (who really did look like a man you would not like to approach in the street due to an uncomfortable glint in his eyes) with his band, formerly known (or maybe not known) as 'Owada'. At this point the venue had a surprisingly little amount in the crowd, and it was hard to believe there wouldn't be more people at an opening date of a Cribs tour. However, Martin Creed got started with much confusion as no one really knew who he was or why he was on stage, but it was soon made obvious why the majority of people going along had clearly decided to come later. Although most of the crowd were laughing at him, he carried on as usual and by the end of the gig it was more like laughing with him. His songs were... different to say the least and to be quite honest most did sound like he had just figured out a string of chords and was shouting (and in some cases hissing) anything that came into his head, including numbers from 1-100 in one song, an another was based entirely around the two words 'fuck off'. On stage next to Martin Creed was a woman who literally contributed nothing to the gig, except if you count banging two sticks together a few times in the set closer. Everyone was quite relieved when they went off, as it was time for Crocodiles, who couldn't possibly have been worse.

After quite a long gap, California-indie band Crocodiles came out, with lead singer Brandon Welchez carrying a bottle of white wine, looking drunk already. Standing to his right was guitarist Charles Rowell, both formally in punk band 'The Plot to Blow Up the Eiffel Tower'. They started off relatively well, but didn't quite get the crowd going like they would of expected, bar a bloke playing air-guitar amongst us, dancing with anyone that would and laughing at everything, with everyone around him laughing at him (which did improve this half an hour slightly). However, they made sure they had a brilliant time on stage, with Brandon Welchez stumbling around the stage pulling faces looking like something between a toddler's tantrum and depressed man who'd just been shot. Meanwhile a few metres away from him, a mixture of Jimi Hendrix and Eric Clapton had taken to the stage, or so he thought. Rowell was swinging his guitar around knocking various things over such as his mic, his mic stand and his cup of beer. After this he began to drink the white wine, and play to the drummer who looked anything but impressed. By the time they were playing their last few songs the crowd were bored and restless, shouting things like 'we want cribs' and 'wakefield', and they had to wait a while for them even after Crocodiles had left the stage.

On came The Cribs after what seemed like hours, another Wakefield formed band but this time with a lot more popularity, and with a much better welcome from the crowd. By this time Rock City was full, and with the brilliant set opener 'Chi-Town' from their album 'In the Belly of the Brazen Bull', (which was out on the same day), the whole building was alive with every person screaming the words. At this point, the crowd were mental, and this was the trend from then on, with no one going home without a bruise. They played songs from all of their albums such as 'I'm a Realist', 'Cheat On Me', 'Come On, Be A No-One', 'Mirror Kissers' and 'Direction' which were incredibly big hits with the crowd. Ryan Jarman was ringing out the high riffs of their tunes and at one point did slip off a speaker he was standing on but he carried on all the same an no one minded. At one point in the gig just after halfway, Ryan Jarman asked the crowd which song they should play from the first album, which was greeted with screams and shouts of mostly 'Direction' an 'Baby Don't Sweat' which they played both in the end, and both were incredible. After this they played my favourite Cribs track, which is 'Be Safe' from their 3rd album 'Men's Needs, Women's Needs, Whatever', which everyone tried as hard as they could to shout all the words out, which proved to be quite impossible. They played a few more after this, including 'Men's Needs', a hit also from their third album before closing with 'City of Bugs'. This last track included Ryan Jarman a metre away from me playing guitar on his knees before lowering all his strings pitch and playing with the edge of an amp. During this time brother Ross played briefly on top of other brother Gary's drums after sliding a mic stand up and down his bass, still keeping with the song perfectly. This was a fantastic end to an incredible night, which was without a doubt the best gig i've ever been to, despite the support bands. I hope to see The Cribs as many times as possible in the future!

New album 'In The Belly Of The Brazen Bull' out now!

http://www.thecribs.com

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ha2utKmXnKo&list=UU5GKdcPf9ZDbSbJEQjOtelw&index=3&feature=plcp - Be Safe

TLH

Lana Del Rey, amongst other things

oh cheer up!

Lana Del Rey’s ‘related artists’ on Spotify seem to show a lot about the status of female vocalists in the music industry, with females apparently similar to her ranging from Amy Winehouse to Nicki Minaj to Lykke Li. In the false illusion that a deep soul voice is similar to jerky pop-drenched rap, it seems that this segment of the industry is in desperate need of development so that these women may be defined further than the fact that they possess a pair of tits. It’s undeniable that internet sensation Lana is captivatingly beautiful with a distinctive, haunting voice; but what does she contribute as a female artist?

The female vocalist, unlike her male counterpart, has to come as a whole package. Magazine photoshoots and gossip columns mean that faces are often more recognisable than a song on the radio. Picture an all-male band. Can you picture each member, or are even the lead singer’s features blurred? Now question how many of them are what is typically classed as attractive. Compare that with the female music market. Adele may be associated with her physical size as well as her vocals, but at the end of the day she’s been on the cover of Vogue. So has Lana Del Rey, incidentally.

‘Video Games’ exploded last summer in a rush of husky American sunshine, followed by the heartbreaking nostalgia of Lana’s full studio album ‘Born To Die’. In her Vogue interview, she described the subject matter as ‘being faithful in my mind to the memory of a particular person’: in short, a relationship gone wrong, broken hearts, etcetera etcetera. Despite being in her mid-twenties, Lana seems to resemble a vulnerable teenager in the throes of first love punctuated by hints of instability, concisely summarised in her line ‘you like your girls insane’.

This theme seems to continue for the length of the album, teetering on seemingly unhealthy aspects of a relationship, with ‘tell me you own me’ and ‘I need you to come here and save me’ displaying signs of female weakness, dependency and submission, something relatively unusual in a society broadcasting lyrics like ‘come on rudeboy, can you get it up?’ on music channels and radio stations. Rihanna may be boasting the sexual liberty of modern society a little too graphically, but Lana seems to demonstrate equally questionable attitudes where female role models are concerned. Then again, there seems to be far more pressure on women in the industry to comply to ‘acceptable’ standards in comparison with the chart-topping ‘I'm on a mission, don't even want to kiss her, honey I won't miss ya when I'm done with ya’ (thank you Tinie Tempah for your casual sexism – it’s nice to know that a Brit winner and Mercury Prize nominee is setting such an example!)

Returning to Lana Del Rey, the singer sums up ‘Born To Die’ perfectly with concluding track ‘This Is What Makes Us Girls’ through her admission that ‘we don’t stick together ‘cause we put our love first’. In a music industry where female bands and artists that actually write their own songs are the definite minority in the charts, surely sticking together and standing up for their art is what is needed more than anything? Lana may be beautiful, haunting and beneficial to the popularity of female singer-songwriters, but behind her memorable voice what is she really saying about women in love? It’s a good job that she’s as thoroughly addictive as the ‘diet mountain dew’ she sings about.

KLH

NME Tour

The NME tour again excited many people of all ages with the prospect of another 4 new talents from 2011, showing off their music to dedicated fans at 13 different venues. The tour featured four artists all incredibly contrasting from each other, with the fast, flowing beats of Azealia Banks to the heavy anthems and echoing riffs of Tribes, there was something for everyone at this years tour.

I managed to get tickets for the tour from someone I knew less than 10 hours before the gig, and so i went along to Nottingham's Rock City on valentines day. First up (after an incredibly fast moving que considering the gig had sold out weeks before) was American rapper and queen of insults, Azealia Banks. As the venue was filling up her relatively short set got the atmosphere going and soon enough the floor was jam packed with the upstairs balcony relatively tight for room as well. After 6 songs not many people knew all too well but were all happy to be the crowd for, Banks closed up her set with '212', a great tune which really got the crowd going and lit up the sea of bodies with the flashing lights and the club filling echoes of her controversial lyrics being screamed out from most mouths at Rock City in Azealia's final song of the night.

Next up was Camden four-piece Tribes, introduced to us by Banks very kindly after the '212' crowd had calmed down slightly. Their recently gained fame came at a great time for the tour after their recent release of 'Baby', and this was definitely reflected in the crowd. Playing their hits like 'Sappho', 'Coming Of Age' and 'We Were Children', the London band played a brilliant set worthy of a more experienced and a lot more popular band, which Tribes could so easily become in the next few years. The instrument heavy sound and memorable riffs rang throughout the ears of the fans shouting and singing the words to the catchy tunes, and it certainly was not a disappointment to anyone inside Rock City that night.

3rd in line were electronic band Metronomy, who gave a completely different buzz to the previous act. Main man Joe Mount and co took to the stage wearing light up/flashing badges, which lit up the stage along with the strobes, making it look fantastic against the dark backdrop of the venue. With all four members dancing around the stage whilst playing their incredibly catchy, synthesized instumentals with Mount singing, playing his guitar and tapping away at his keyboard in rapid succession and as close to simultaneously as humanly possible. Playing tracks from their critically acclaimed LPs, the Devon-formed talents blasted out hits such as 'The Bay', 'Radio Ladio' and 'The Look', filling the club from wall to wall with incredible sound like not many bands can produce, and certainly not in the way they do. Metronomy for me were the highlight of the night, as I'm sure they did for many people in the many venues they played in over the two week period of the tour.

The last act to take part in the gig were Two Door Cinema Club, an indie pop band from Northern Ireland who were the headliners of the tour. Out of the four, TDCC are probably the most popular, however not the longest running act on the tour. It was clear even before the moment they stepped on to the stage that they were the reason most people went to the gig, with the pre-set moshing even with no music playing throughout the crowd. When they did come on, they received a rapturous reception from the crowd, which carried on for the whole set. This included mostly songs from their debut and so far only album 'Tourist History', a relatively well-reviewed record from early 2010. Other than that they played a few new tracks from their forthcoming 2nd album, and previewed the new songs like 'This Is Moon' and 'Costume Party', along with their hits 'I Can Talk', 'What You Know' and 'Something Good Can Work'. They played their songs very well, and comfortably too with lead singer Alex Trimble playing throw and catch with one of his guitars with someone across the stage. However, I couldn't help but to feel their songs seem slightly repetitive, and at this point I stopped enjoying myself, despite an attempt at encouragement from my friends!

Overall it was an enjoyable night, as I'm sure the other 12 nights were for thousands of people. Again the NME Tour has been a great success, promoting new bands to people who might not have come across them until later years, which obviously is one of the aims of the tour. Again NME chose very good acts, all of which look to have very bright futures.

TLH

Perhaps conformity is a bit strong but...

When Suck It And See first graced the internet in its fully-leaked glory in May, I listened to it three times a day, without fail. It became almost subconscious, this constant looping transition of sounds creating the phonic backdrop of my life throughout my exam period. Even when actually sat in that freezing hall waiting for my wrist to seize up from overwriting, or just the cold, Suck It And See ran incessantly through my head. By the time I received my pre-ordered physical album, I knew every note backwards. I saw Arctic Monkeys at Don Valley Bowl; it was undeniably the best night of my life.

I once read an Alex Turner quote in which he expressed his wishes to be able to write a completely nonsensical song, like Octopus’ Garden. Suck It And See reached these new heights, with obscure and possibly completely insane lyrics such as ‘kung fu fighting on your rollerskates’ making up the majority of lead single Don’t Sit Down ‘Cause I’ve Moved Your Chair. At last, Turner has achieved what he believed to be unachievable, and he is able to talk about it! Moving swiftly away from the shy Sheffield lad who mumbled ‘don’t believe the hype’ into his microphone on debut single I Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor, Alex has now discovered international fame and the power of audience participation.

I don’t want to come across as some dreadful hipster fan who is determined to disown their favourite band at the first sniff of popularity. I’ll be honest; I used to hate the Arctic Monkeys. As a 10-year-old pop fan in 2005, I found it unimaginable that some unheard-of guitar band with an album seeming to promote smoking (very bad for your health, apparently) could knock my favourite generic autotune victims off the top spot. I fell in love at Humbug, the ‘difficult’ album. I think it provided me with a greater sense of loyalty to a band causing divisions in their existing fanbase.

Then along came Suck It And See. The most accessible record they’ve ever made; played on Radio 1 and in Topshop from the earliest Brick By Brick stages. Suddenly everyone was a Monkeys fan, and there’s nothing wrong with that. There are some true gems on that album, from the opening chords of all-round-British-appeal She’s Thunderstorms, the more haunting All My Own Stunts, the melancholy and contemplative Love Is A Laserquest right through to the nostalgic and general feel-good denouement provided by That’s Where You’re Wrong.

What’s most noticeable about the tracks I’ve just named are that none of them have been released as singles. This may be an advantage as their dull overplaying could easily result in their demise, but it seems that, understandably, Arctic Monkeys have chosen their most accessible tracks to release. As of now, they have released four: Don’t Sit Down, The Hellcat Spangled Shalalala, Suck It And See and Black Treacle. I cannot pretend that I’m not disappointed. In my opinion, three singles is the maximum that should be released from a studio album, for fear of effectively deadening its appeal as an album, killing it off.

And then there are the videos. Brick By Brick depicted a girl smoking next to her record player, and therefore wandered dangerously close to pretentious waters. Don’t Sit Down and Hellcat were flashing lights and scenes of Don Valley which seemed suitably good-natured. Suck It And See introduced the character of Matt Helders clad in denim and leather and tumbling around the American landscape on a motorbike with an incredibly pretty girl. The guns, gangster image and slight shades of S&M were off-putting, personally, but the video went down a storm with the masses, and so Black Treacle’s was shortly released, depicting Helders in prison while a woman wriggles around on a car bonnet and Alex raises his eyebrows nonchalantly and greases his quiff. It’s such a far cry from the piss-take videos of Whatever People Say I Am, That’s What I’m Not, and the transition of the Monkeys into America seems greater with every newly-announced tour.

They’re still my favourite band, and they still make great music, but I can’t help but be saddened by the inevitable that is the Arctic Monkeys’ expansion into something more accessible in order to satisfy international expectation and demand. It was always obvious that there could never be another Whatever People Say: that was a debut album in a lifetime, perfectly portraying the everyday life of four normal lads in that particular place and that particular time with such a grating sense of realism that it was gorgeous. However, the last year seems to have proved that there will also never be another Humbug. As Arctic Monkeys take off into the realms of worldwide popularity (and possible domination?) it may be that those dark depths achieved so shudderingly in the likes of Dance Little Liar may never be reached again.

KLH
(not my own images)

Review: Lioness:Hidden Treasures - Amy Winehouse

When Amy Winehouse died in July, fans rushed to her home in Camden to mourn the loss of an outstanding contemporary British talent. Despite a life plagued by addiction and an abundance of bad press, it is impossible to deny that Amy’s voice was fantastic: individual, soulful, and ultimately the representation of a vulnerable but incredibly talented woman. I must confess that, like many others, I joined the Amy bandwagon with Rehab in 2006, and drifted off it again in the lengthy period when her only mention was an unflattering photograph in the ‘Caught on Camera’ section of a trashy magazine. However, in the horrible recognition that an unexpected death brings, I fell in love with Amy once more, and awaited an album with great anticipation.

Some were doubtful about the circumstances of Amy’s death, and some were doubtful about the announced album and its right to release. Obviously, compiling a suitable posthumous album for a singer who had released no major work since 2008 was pivotal to leaving a well-deserved legacy. In my opinion, Lioness: Hidden Treasures is near-flawless in showcasing Amy’s superb talent and individuality, not only as a singer but as a person, tainted with so much unfair criticism during the course of her career.

What surprised me most about the album was the sheer positivity emitted from almost every track. Used to hearing the deep, heartbreaking vocals on Back to Black, Lioness gives an overall impression of unchallenged optimism. From the catchy opening chords of single ‘Our Day Will Come’ to the spine-tingling concluding notes of ‘A Song For You’, the album shows Amy in her element; happy, unconcerned and overwhelmingly likeable.

Highlights include ‘The Girl From Ipanema’, in which verses are interjected with ecstatic shouts and du-wops from Amy and the original recording of ‘Wake Up Alone’ which is slower and somehow more heartrending than the studio version as Amy contemplates lost love in those drifting and echoed last notes. The immediately following ‘Best Friends, Right?’ is instantaneous in its mood-enhancing quality, Amy’s voice rippling in catchy repeats of ‘but we are best friends… right?’ Her undeniable and unexplainable charm is especially apparent in this carefree track, light-hearted and guaranteed to provoke an unintended singalong, much like the well-loved ‘Valerie.’

‘Body and Soul’ was the last song released before Amy’s death, highlighting Amy’s versatility in combination with the voice of award-winning jazz singer Tony Bennett. As a final single this was outstanding in terms of demonstrating Amy’s achievement, and due to her tragic and untimely death acted as the pinnacle of her development as an artist. However, Amy was never boastful or diva-like in her attitude, and it seems entirely appropriate that she unknowingly bids her fans a final farewell in her infectious accent through the concluding soundbites of Lioness: Hidden Treasures, in which she chats away quite unconcernedly like the down-to-earth British icon she was.


KLH