Back at the end of June, Bret Easton Ellis posted on Twitter thus: 'High Violet by The National is the best record I've heard in a year. It's the only thing I've listened to on the Imperial Bedrooms tour.' Consequently, since reading that I haven't been able to disassociate the album from the latest novel by the former literature enfant terrible with this, the fifth LP from Brooklyn five-piece The National.
The mood of High Violet has been likened to the grey, rain-soaked tones of Joy Division. While their music does have an undeniably dense, dark-hued atmosphere, High Violet's aspirations are far wider than Ian Curtis's (ultimately terminal) negativity; a wider sonic palette also broadens the mood. It's closest cousin, to these ears, appears to be the Interpol of third album Our Love To Admire. My favourite tracks are the appropriately-named 'Sorrow' and the motorik 'Afraid Of Everyone', but the whole affair is gloriously bleak.
I've listened to this album repeatedly over the past month; I know it's not healthy to do so, as I found to my detriment with the aforementioned Our Love To Admire. 'Introspection must be sampled in small doses' should be the health warning on such albums. But it does also seem to suit the trademarked air of paranoid detachment of Imperial Bedrooms.
Throughout our holiday in Cornwall, one album that we kept falling back on – especially when the sun came out – was the self-titled début by The Drums; its shimmery surf-pop seemed the logical soundtrack, but I've already waxed lyrical about that LP and don't plan to do so again. The other recent purchase that got heavily played while we were away was the self-titled album by San Diego's The Soft Pack. The Californian four-piece were previously known as The Muslims, and not unsurprisingly were encouraged to change their name.
I'm not sure where to place this LP. No single style seems to prevail, but there is more than a passing resemblance to some of the punky archness of Jonathan Richman and his Modern Lovers, especially in the trio of faster-paced tracks – 'Pull Out', 'Parasite' and 'Faithman'. Those tracks also have a whiff of lo-fi producer Steve 'Big Black' Albini circa his derided (and band-separating) work with Rosa Mota. So, art-punk-grunge anyone? Well worth checking out.
For the journey down to Cornwall we bought some audio books for the kids rather than have them sat in front of DVDs. One of these was the Theodore Geisel – Dr. Seuss – classic Green Eggs And Ham, ably read by Adrian Edmondson, which had us all in stitches thanks to his comic voices and Seuss's rhymes. There's a line in an old Lunachicks song about that book, so I'll be heading loftward to dig that album out in due course.
Others: Kid Savant 'Drawn And Quartered' (electro-infused shoegazer pop, not unlike The XX); The XX 'Islands' (electro-infused shoegazer pop, not unlike Kid Savant); The Foals 'Miami' (like an Avalanches remix of Robert Smith jamming with Happy Mondays); Danger Mouse & Sparklehorse featuring Julian Casablancas 'Little Girl' (in which The Strokes front-man sings over a jangly imaginary soundtrack to a kidnap chase through smoky Parisian pavement cafés); Male Bonding 'Weird Feelings' (shouty grunge pop with Sixties flashes on Sub Pop); Crystal Fighters 'In The Summer' (imagine PWEI soundtracking Manga classic Akira).
It's good to be back.
The mood of High Violet has been likened to the grey, rain-soaked tones of Joy Division. While their music does have an undeniably dense, dark-hued atmosphere, High Violet's aspirations are far wider than Ian Curtis's (ultimately terminal) negativity; a wider sonic palette also broadens the mood. It's closest cousin, to these ears, appears to be the Interpol of third album Our Love To Admire. My favourite tracks are the appropriately-named 'Sorrow' and the motorik 'Afraid Of Everyone', but the whole affair is gloriously bleak.
I've listened to this album repeatedly over the past month; I know it's not healthy to do so, as I found to my detriment with the aforementioned Our Love To Admire. 'Introspection must be sampled in small doses' should be the health warning on such albums. But it does also seem to suit the trademarked air of paranoid detachment of Imperial Bedrooms.
Throughout our holiday in Cornwall, one album that we kept falling back on – especially when the sun came out – was the self-titled début by The Drums; its shimmery surf-pop seemed the logical soundtrack, but I've already waxed lyrical about that LP and don't plan to do so again. The other recent purchase that got heavily played while we were away was the self-titled album by San Diego's The Soft Pack. The Californian four-piece were previously known as The Muslims, and not unsurprisingly were encouraged to change their name.
I'm not sure where to place this LP. No single style seems to prevail, but there is more than a passing resemblance to some of the punky archness of Jonathan Richman and his Modern Lovers, especially in the trio of faster-paced tracks – 'Pull Out', 'Parasite' and 'Faithman'. Those tracks also have a whiff of lo-fi producer Steve 'Big Black' Albini circa his derided (and band-separating) work with Rosa Mota. So, art-punk-grunge anyone? Well worth checking out.
For the journey down to Cornwall we bought some audio books for the kids rather than have them sat in front of DVDs. One of these was the Theodore Geisel – Dr. Seuss – classic Green Eggs And Ham, ably read by Adrian Edmondson, which had us all in stitches thanks to his comic voices and Seuss's rhymes. There's a line in an old Lunachicks song about that book, so I'll be heading loftward to dig that album out in due course.
Others: Kid Savant 'Drawn And Quartered' (electro-infused shoegazer pop, not unlike The XX); The XX 'Islands' (electro-infused shoegazer pop, not unlike Kid Savant); The Foals 'Miami' (like an Avalanches remix of Robert Smith jamming with Happy Mondays); Danger Mouse & Sparklehorse featuring Julian Casablancas 'Little Girl' (in which The Strokes front-man sings over a jangly imaginary soundtrack to a kidnap chase through smoky Parisian pavement cafés); Male Bonding 'Weird Feelings' (shouty grunge pop with Sixties flashes on Sub Pop); Crystal Fighters 'In The Summer' (imagine PWEI soundtracking Manga classic Akira).
It's good to be back.
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