Wednesday, 29 June 2011

Audio Journal : 17/06/2011 - 27.06.2011

17.06.2011

In the post: Komputer 'Valentina' 12” (1998) – in advance of an interview with Dave Baker from the band, I thought I'd better gen up on their back catalogue; Perplexer 'Acid Folk' CD (1994) which is a weird way-too-fast bagpipes-meets-acid-house track from 1994 possibly transcending stoopidity by the fact that Ramon Zengler from second-wave acid pioneers Hardfloor was an occasional member; field research for Documentary Evidence as it was released via Mute; Moby and Orde Meikle (from Slam) mix CD from Mixmag in 1992; again field research for Doc.Ev. I had the Moby mix on cassette but can't find it. It includes 'C3 Bells', an exclusive Moby track which I don't think has ever seen the light of day.

Komputer 'Valentina'

18.06.2011

Listened to Cry by Simple Minds while ferrying Daughter2 to ballet. Cry came out in 2002, I think. I hadn't really taken an interest in Simple Minds during the Eighties, and I only got this since Erasure's Vince Clarke wrote a track for the album. I always stuck them in with U2 as 'rock' bands that I'd never learn to love. I hadn't by then watched The Breakfast Club and so I had no particular warmth to something like 'Alive And Kicking', but when I did finally watch that film a few years ago, it made me appreciate Simple Minds for the first time. Cry has some really good electronically-enhanced pop / rock tracks, although in places its 'cleverness' hasn't lasted the passage of time well. I think its release was generally overlooked at the time, which strikes me as a shame. I spent a week in Corfu in 2002 listening to this over and over whilst sunbathing.

Simple Minds 'Cry'

Prepared some interview questions for Moby at night (though doubtful this will actually happen) and recorded old vinyl from Bomb The Bass ('Say A Little Prayer') and (Die) Krupps ('Wahre Arbeit – Wahrer Lohn').

19.06.2011

We were off out for a visit to Stowe Gardens for father's day and I took my two lovely daughters to the shops to pick up some lunch for a picnic before collecting Mrs S and heading off. Just lately Daughter1 has started requesting the Glee songs that Mrs S has on her iPhone while they drive to school. One of the songs she and her sister love is a cover of 'Don't You Want Me' by The Human League. The version by 'Rachel' and 'Blane' (I've probably spelled those wrong, but I can't be bothered to check IMDB) is, I have to say, pretty good, though it does re-cast the song as a dancey, Europop track; a bit like a Lady GaGa track, I guess. Having been subjected to this track a few times over the last few weeks, I decided it was high time that I played them the original Human League version from 1981's Dare. Daughter1 loved it as soon as the electropop beat kicked in. It is, and always will be, a fantastic track, and I don't mind if it appearing on Glee brings it to a whole new audience. Daughter1 is the same age that I was when 'Don't You Want Me' was released, so her being into the Glee version has a neat symmetry.

The Human League 'Dare'

Mrs S played me a couple of tracks that she'd downloaded last week. For someone who describes electronic music as 'plinky plonky' music, she seems to alight upon tracks with an electronic edge surprisingly frequently. One was a track from Battles' new album Gloss Drop ('Inchworm') which has a processed funk sound not unlike a remix of Talking Heads' 'Houses In Motion'. The other was 'Now That I'm Real (How Does It Feel)' by Chad Valley, which is languid, hazy electronic pop in the style of Toro Y Moi. There's a lot of this type of dreamy, unabashed synth stuff kicking about at present, all trading under the banner of 'hypnogogic pop' and it's all – mostly – very good.

In the evening Mrs S and I took ourselves off to the Barbican Centre to watch an acoustic performance from Ryan Adams. I've been listening to Adams's music for no more than a couple of years. It started with 'New York, New York' from Gold, back when I was trying to create a playlist of songs exclusively concerned with New York (I started one for London too). My immersion into his music proper when Mrs S bought Love Is Hell after reading about how good it was, and my interest in his music just sort of grew from there. I never thought I'd ever get to see him perform live, especially since he effectively quit music two years ago because of annoying audience members and hearing problems. Although, it seems, healthy, Adams had a reasonably chequered past and an interview I saw with him showed him to be a pretty troubled soul.

Ryan Adams, Barbican

Live, he turned out to be far more light-hearted and self-deprecating than I had expected, despite his history of on-stage volatility, and in spite of his guitar refusing to stay in tune. It felt like a complete privilege to have seen him perform his songs so utterly stripped back, in spite of the vastness of the Barbican's main auditorium. And he only lost his temper – mildly – once.

20.06.2011

Continued the Ryan Adams mood by listening to his punky Rock 'n Roll album whilst driving to and from a meeting. I could have listened to some of the more fragile, acoustic type songs he played the night before, but you can't drive to those. And besides, I wanted to try and preserve my memory of his performance as long as possible. Alas, it's too late and I've forgotten most of it.

21.06.2011

Finished off two reviews for Documentary Evidence today; a piece I pulled together six years ago on Modey Lemon's fantastically acid-fried 'Sleepwalkers' EP but never posted, and the review of Perplexer's 'Acid Folk'. I thought acid-house-meets-bagpipe-folk-music would sound naff, and it really does. Listened some more Ryan Adams.

22.06.2011

Mrs S and I went to London today, ostensibly for yet another Kings Of Leon concert at Hyde Park, but the best part of today was buying records in Rough Trade East (me: Bush Tetras double A-side 7”, 1979 New York 'no wave' CD; Mrs S: Bon Iver) and Fopp (me: Yeasayer; Mrs S: PJ Harvey, Tom Petty, Queens Of The Stone Age).

Maybe it was the mud. Maybe it was the audience. Maybe it was going to Ryan Adams on Sunday and the fact that most other concerts after that would have been rubbish anyway. Maybe it was the support slot from Paul Weller, who I don't really like (the Brendan Lynch dub mixes of some of his tracks notwithstanding). Whatever it was, Kings Of Leon completely bored me, and we left after about seven songs, though they were mercifully the old ones, the ones before the abysmal 'Sex On Fire'.

23.06.2011

Wrote a review of Bomb The Bass' 'Say A Little Prayer' which I'd bought as a 7” from CD Buttek beim Palais in Luxembourg last month. Listened to more Ryan Adams.

Bomb The Bass 'Say A Little Prayer'

24.06.2011

Watched the film adaptation of Bret Easton Ellis's The Informers. It opens with 'New Gold Dream (81 - 82 - 83 - 84)' by Simple Minds played at a party and it made me want to find my greatest hits CD, or buy the movie soundtrack, or both.

The Informers

It turns out that it's not actually on Glittering Prize (though it clearly should be), and the soundtrack CD is ridiculously overpriced. Another great song on the soundtrack is Devo's 'Freedom Of Choice', a really perfect New Wave tracks; in the movie Chris Isaak plays a drunk dad trying to engage with his disinterested son. He puts on the radio in the back of the limo they're sharing and on comes this Devo track. He starts tapping along and says the track's 'cool', which of course renders it totally not cool.

Post-film, I decided not to consume more TV and stuck on Pop by U2, probably because I was aware on some subconscious level that they were just about to take the stage down at Glastonbury. Pop was released in 1997, the same year as Depeche Mode comeback, post-heroin album, Ultra. At the time I was sharing a house in King Stephen Road, Colchester with Neil, Barry and Craig. Neil was a U2 fan; I was a Depeche Mode fan. There was a bit of media-fuelled competition as to whether U2's 'Discotheque' or Depeche's 'Barrel Of A Gun' would get to number one in the ye olde UK singles charts. As if there was actually a competition – Depeche would never, ever score a number one in Blighty, whereas U2 had a slick, Flood-produced electro-rock single and a video that had the band ripping off the Village People. Was I annoyed that Neil's band won the 'competition'? Not at all. Was I disappointed when U2 remixed Flood's intricate synth-augmented originals for their second best of compilation? Absolutely. I thought it was an act of extreme cowardice. Neil told me later that they didn't play any songs from Pop at Glasto. Cowards.

25.06.2011

A few weekends ago we watched a Foo Fighters documentary. After, I tweeted words to the effect that I still found proper rock music intimidating, that Dave Grohl came across as a really nice guy, but that I ultimately didn't like the Foo Fighters. Mrs S subjected me to their best of album today, which reinforced just how little I like their songs.

It's funny how you alight upon certain things, musically or otherwise. We came upon a CD of early Lonnie Donegan tracks whilst wandering around a French market at Waddesdon Manor on mother's day. The sound I heard coming out of the tannoy CD player at the music stall was a sort of big-band be-bop, which to me sounded like the sort of jazz that appears consistently in Woody Allen movies.

I had a fixed impression of Lonnie Donegan as a banjo or ukele player, which is true. I also thought that he only played cheesy, humorous songs such as 'My Old Man's A Dustman', and that's probably also true, but he first cut his teeth as part of a jazz group led by Chris Barber and often featuring the vocals of Ottilie Patterson. Hence the unexpected big band sound. On most of the tracks you can barely hear Donegan's banjo (and what's a banjo doing in a jazz band anyway?), although there are a handful of tracks where they are his own, non-Chris Barber recordings, such as 'Rock Island Line' (a track I only know as a Johnny Cash song) or the blues track 'Diggin' My Potatoes'.

The point is, I would never have even looked at this CD if it wasn't for having heard it playing, and because of its branding – as a Lonnie Donegan CD – I'd have completely ignored it. As it happens, that old-fashioned, big band standards sound has been played a lot in our house since we bought this.

26.06.2011

More Glee songs in the car.

27.06.2011

Stayed overnight at the Novotel in Edinburgh. The nice, simple touch in this hotel is that you can connect your iPod to the TV in your room and listen to songs through the TV. The TV in my room was obviously broken somehow and the screen filled with static as soon as I stuck a song on; the static lines would change their pattern when the beat of the music changed. It was quite cool, if a little reminiscent of Poltergeist.

The songs I was listening to were recorded from the double 12” single of Underworld's 'Born Slippy', released in 1995. Everyone knows the version of 'Born Slippy' which Danny Boyle included on the soundtrack to Trainspotting. That wasn't the original version, and no-one seems to remember that at all. It was an instrumental drum 'n' bass track, a world away from the euphoric 'Lager! Lager! Lager!' stomp of the NUXX version used in Trainspotting.

Underworld 'Born Slippy' 12inch artwork

I remember getting pretty excited about 'Born Slippy', and I recall going into the Music Junction in Stratford-upon-Avon on the Saturday before it came out, just to check if they were going to be stocking the single. The two guys who worked there were your archetypal Nick Hornby High Fidelity record shop workers and they knew how much I wanted that single. They told me that not only were they going to be stocking it, but that it was tucked away in the store room already; not only that but that they'd been listening to it. It really wound me up, and since I've always revelled in smug satisfaction when I've received a promo in the post, or received something before it's officially released.

Thursday, 16 June 2011

Audio Journal : 16/06/2011

It seems that my last post about BBC4's Primal Scream documentary on the making of Screamadelica generated a mixed response.

Martyn wrote 'Love it. Best blog yet.' Thanks Martyn. The cheque's in the post.

Alistair, who has released a slew of self-released CD-Rs, commented 'You seem to have similar feelnigs to me about Screamadelica – it's a remix album from which we were mercifully spared the originals (mostly). The only album I had any real time for was XTRMNTR which has a lot to do with [My Bloody Valentine's] Kevin Shields's production on the relevant tracks.'

Primal Scream 'XTRMNTR'

But the best comments came from Ian, with whom I clearly hit a bit of a nerve. Here's his views, warts and all.

'How can anyone who likes non-mainstream music hate The Stone Roses? And resist Nirvana? But love Erasure? Why do I read anything you write?'

And on Screamadelica: 'Lucky that they were in the right place at the right time to release this album? How many psych indie bands were scratching about at the same time lacking the vision to make the zeitgeistian leap Bobby and his boys did?

'I don't recall anyone else taking the same chance in giving so much control to a producer and thus creating what will remain a classic album. I saw them play it six months ago at Earl's Court and having seen a few of these ATP classic album replays, this was without a doubt the most enthusiastic and reverential crowd I've ever seen for any album re-hash. This album for me and many others judging by that crowd, was the catalyst for a leap from rock to “druggy” musical tastes and therefore massively important for changing many previously closed attitudes to various musical genres. Not many albums soundtrack a period for so many people as Screamadelica clearly did, and shouldn't be sniffed at for doing so.

'Weatherall is obviously massively influential on the album but afterwards look at XTRMNTR (their best album by far) to see that they weren't spaced out so far as not to learn and develop from their time with a techno producer like Weatherall. Forget the Stones tribute album afterwards [Give Out But Don't Give Up], biggest pile of shite they ever did but an intentional effort to lose transitory fans.

'I love Primal Scream and I'll see you round the back of the building 5pm Friday to sort this out.'

Gulp.

Vinyl Corner

A couple of recent 7" purchases that have finally found their way into my shiny new iPod.

The first is '23' by the brilliantly-named Death Dub, which appears to date from 2006 but looked like a new release in Rough Trade East. The helpful Rough Trade notes identified it as the project of Touch Recording artist BJ Nilsen and Joachim Nordwall, and '23' was described as an exploration of their interests in dub and industrial noise. Meanwhile the label stuck this squarely into the Rough Trade 'Industrial / free jazz' category.

Death Dub '23'

The industrial connection I get. The artwork, such as it's simple one-sided sleeve insert is, has a design reminiscent of Throbbing Gristle and the usage of the number 23 sticks this work in with the William S. Burroughs-influenced fraternity that dominated industrial music in the late Seventies. The dub connection I don't get. I was expecting some sort of heavyweight Godflesh-style abrasive dub style, and not the murky, impenetrable bass-heavy swamp that this track represents. Even the 'version' on the B-side carries nary a whiff of anything I'd associate with dub. Well, as for free jazz, I don't hear that here at all.

Still, I like the edgy, dark sonic immersiveness that this represents, and listening on headphones reveals lots going on within both the original track and the version. And also, in John Peel style, it sounds great at the wrong speed too.

I mentioned '3 A.M. Eternal' by The KLF in my last post, and I recently happened upon a 7" version in a tiny Luxembourg treasure trove of a record shop that I've mentioned before. '3 A.M. Eternal' was The KLF's first really successful single, but the version presented here isn't the original; that was released in 1989 as a proper dance music 12" and is supposedly not a pop track like this ultimately was. I don't have the means / inclination to track that original down, but all reports suggest that it's a brilliant track.

The KLF '3 A.M. Eternal'

Looking back, I never really liked this track as much as 'What Time Is Love?' and 'Last Train To Trancentral', the singles that appeared either side of this. This seemed something of a novelty with all that fake Mu-Mu mythology sprinkled all over it. Listening to the main single version today feels pretty nostalgic and it has a deep quality to it, like 808 State's seminal 'Pacific State' thanks to the inclusion of some frozen-in-time saxophone. The B-side, the Guns Of Mu-Mu edit, has an early house feel, with a proper 4/4 beat and a liquid bassline that predates the derivative garage low-end by a good few years.

Monday, 23 May 2011

Audio Journal : 24/05/2011

Once again, it is to BBC4 that I turn to bring you this post, specifically two programmes broadcast back-to-back a few Fridays ago. The first was one of those Classic Album documentaries on Primal Scream's Screamadelica and the other collected Top Of The Pops performances from bands in 1991, particularly those who were part of the fertile rock / dance crossover scene that seemed to flourish that year.

Watching the second programme made me incredibly nostalgic for a year that my music tastes started to develop properly. Just being reminded of 808 State's 'In Yer Face', which I bought (and still have, somewhere) on cassette single made the hairs stand up on my arms. Likewise '3AM Eternal' by The KLF (I have a German 12", bought several years later, and a 7” picked up in Luxembourg last week). Likewise 'Move Any Mountain' by The Shamen, which I had on the album En-Tact (the programme has hastened my need to have KLF's The White Room and En-Tact on CD rather than the over-played tapes sitting in my loft). Incidentally, 'Move Any Mountain' is a classic track, though much maligned because of Mr C's dodgy rap. What's often overlooked is that Mr C was a fantastic techno DJ. He couldn't rap for toffee (see 'Ebeneezer Goode'), but as a DJ he was pretty unequalled. I saw him play once; he gave me a flyer after his set. Anyone who has heard the dodgy hippy stuff The Shamen knocked out before Mr C arrived will also appreciate just how much he improved this otherwise unimpressive band.

808 State 'In Yer Face'

What I found, to my surprise, was that I remembered most of the songs that were played, and indeed have most of them now, but hardly any were purchases at the time. I'm not revisionistic enough to try and claim that I had bought every single track at the time: 'Feel Every Beat' by Electronic (the album was borrowed from my friend Steve and my own copy purchased years later); 'X, Y And Zee' by Pop Will Eay Itself (borrowed from my friend Jon and a 7" copy bought years after); 'Human Nature' by Gary Clail (never even heard this at the time and yet bought a 7" of it from a charity shop some five years later); 'Sit Down' by James (I hated this when it came out but have since become enamoured of its oft-overlook lyrical depth, and now own most of the James back catalogue); 'I Wanna Be Adored' by The Stone Roses (ditto 'Sit Down'; hated this band at the time and mostly still do, but I think this track has an understated self-deprecating quality); 'Smells Like Teen Spirit' by Nirvana (I resisted Nirvana actively for years until I met Mrs S; I concede that even when Kurt fucked up his voice deliberately to sabotage the TOTP performance, he still sounded amazing); 'Loose Fit' by Happy Mondays (thanks go to Neil for getting me into the Mondays at University; I hated the entire 'baggy' scene at the time).

Partly this paucity of purchases was logical - I was still living off pocket money and a 2p-per-paper free newspaper round at the time, so disposable income for record purchases was slim. The only other record I actually bought of those played was 'Dizzy' by Vic Reeves and The Wonderstuff. This was again bought on cassette single, but even by the time I left Music Junction in Stratford-upon-Avon I regretted it. So I gave it to my friend Rob that afternoon; his brother, Chris, who would later influence my love for all things electronica, took offence at Rob having this single in the house and threw it out of a first floor window, whereupon it shattered.

So, happy 20th birthday to Primal Scream's Screamadelica. As with most of the music above, I didn't buy this when it came out. I bought it three years later, by which time I was absorbed in all things dance music and kept reading about how important Screamadelica was, how influential blah blah blah. Up to then I'd considered them a bit too 'rock' and more than a bit druggy. The programme confirmed both those old prejudices, although on the latter front Andrew Innes seems to have weathered pretty well, unlike Robert 'Throb' Young and Bobby Gillespie.

Primal Scream 'Screamadelica'

I bought Screamadelica on a date with a girl from school called Claire. I think she was a little bemused when I took her into Our Price in Stratford and started raving about how important this album was, how I was amazed she'd never heard of it etc. Christ, I must have sounded like such a geeky trainspotter, especially as I hadn't heard it myself until later that afternoon. I also bought a shirt from Principles while I was with her. It is no surprise to me that there was no second date.

When I first heard Screamadelica, it was filtered through all the pure dance music that came after, all of which felt more authentic; consequently I felt a little cold toward the hybrid nature of the songs and the whole thing felt a little scattergun. This was explained during the programme - initially, Screamadelica wasn't intended as an album, but a series of singles, mostly produced by Andy 'Sabres Of Paradise' Weatherall and Hugo Nicholson. Finally, Alan McGee, boss of Creation Records, suggested that they couldn't keep churning out hastily-recorded singles and remixes, and that an album proper was required. Accordingly it hangs together with little coherence, despite Weatherall's attempt to sequence it into a uniform trip, from the euphoric 'Moving On Up' to the comedown epic 'Shine Like Stars'.

Don't even get me started on 'Moving On Up' and 'Damaged', two good but straight rock tracks linking the band back to their previous eponymous album and Screamadelica's Stones-esque follow-up Give Out But Don't Give Up. These two tracks sadly reinforce the view that Primal Scream were a rock band first and foremost who happened to dabble fortuitously in dance music to further their otherwise slight reputation; without the guiding hands of Weatherall and Nicholson, the Scream were just a rock-by-numbers band with little going for them.

Don't get me wrong, 'Don't Fight It, Feel It' and the cover of 13th Floor Elevators' 'Slip Inside This House' are superb. The Orb's production of 'Higher Than The Sun' is one of the best (and druggiest) things The Orb ever recorded; the gnomic Alex Patterson from The Orb was one of the talking heads on the programme and spoke glowingly of the track, believing it a worthy successor to their own 'Little Fluffy Clouds'.

Overall, the documentary left me thinking that the trio of Gillespie / Innes / Young don't recall much of the making of Screamadelica, thanks to the E and also because - call me cynical - they don't seem to have been that involved. Screamadelica is, to me, Weatherall's baby and it sounds far better when listened to as a remix album. Bassist Henry Olsen (formerly of Nico's backing band The Faction), later usurped by The Stone Roses's Mani, came across as a thoroughly decent individual, as did 'Don't Fight It, Feel It' vocalist Denise Johnson, mainly because they actually remember what happened; that said, listen to Olsen smugly eulogise his performance of the main riff on 'Damaged' and it again reinforces the notion of a rock band that lucked out with a hip dance producer. (Olsen, incidentally, is the son of my first primary school teacher.)

Perhaps that's one sacred cow too many?

Wednesday, 27 April 2011

Audio Journal : 27/04/2011

Mrs S confiscated my iPod on the night before we set off for our week-long holiday in Portugal. Therefore there's 'officially' no blog this week since I haven't really listened to anything. Unless you count the chilled-out Parisian house music played by the pool, which, whilst very trendy and absorbing, isn't something I'm terribly equipped to write at length about, though it does make me want to drink cocktails.

We have been listening to The Beatles' 'red' and 'blue' albums in our hire car. Once again, prolonged exposure to the Fab Four reminds me that a) with only a solitary exception of the tracks included ('Back In The USSR'), I don't like the Paul McCartney songs at all and have been making judicious use of the buttons on the steering wheel to move past his tracks; b) the singles the band released are generally irritating thanks to familiarity (even Mrs S, an avowed, long-standing Beatles fan from her teenage years, agrees); and c) 'Yellow Submarine' is a brilliant song for kids.

I knew this already, well before I heard my girls asking for it repeatedly and then singing rapturously along in the back of the hire car. I knew this because I was taught it as a children's song in primary school (this was about 1982; much later I began to suspect that my teachers were all LSD-dropping, pot-smoking ex-hippies made good; we didn't, as far as I can recall, ever learn any Grateful Dead songs). What is it that John Hannah says to Gwyneth Paltrow in Peter Howitt's Sliding Doors? Something about us learning Beatles songs in the womb? Well, in my case, not quite; I was about six, or thereabouts. My parents had a solitary Beatles EP (Magical Mystery Tour), which is probably more responsible than anything else for turning me on to fetishising collecting records, and for making me think that The Beatles were plain weird thanks to the oddball gatefold sleeve. (I used to collect postcards and keep them in that sleeve; my nerdish tendencies began early.)

'Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds' is another song that I was taught at school, in about 1986 (Christ, what were my teachers on?). We created a mural for the back of that teacher's classroom, with each of us given a phrase in the song to create an image. I had two - 'newspaper taxis' and 'marmalade skies' - and created an oblong car with then-current headlines scribbled on it, as well as orange cloud with thick lines dotted around it; we were a strictly Robinsons, orange peel-in family. It was a literal depcition of a song that made no sense at all to me and my fellow ten-year-old classmates. And why would it?

By way of padding, here are some things I've written for Documentary Evidence lately: a review of Junip's Fields (http://bit.ly/hYN9dr) and an interview with Espen J. Jörgensen on his collaboration with Simon Fisher Turner as SOUNDESCAPES (http://bit.ly/g9s2cx).

Thursday, 21 April 2011

Audio Journal : 22/04/2011

This week I've been catching up with the work of David Fleet, aka M075, 75 Surveillance and Laica. For some fairly logical reason, when I saw the various aliases and the reference to 'surveillance', and titles like 'Cosy Funk' and 'Audio Out' I was reminded of the work of Cabaret Voltaire co-founder Richard H. Kirk. Kirk, whose music began as harsh industrial noise with the Cabs slowly and deliberately evolved into something more purist, much more electronic. His solo work alongside the Cabs releases was initially as harsh as his dayjob, a far cry from the multi-cultural dub ambience of his later Nineties work for Warp, or the early rave of Sweet Exorcist. There are many other aliases that Kirk has used, including Electronic Eye, whose LPs were adorned with grainy images of nascent CCTV technology, hellish signals of that word I picked out, 'surveillance'.

Fleet's Bandcamp page contains a number of tracks which I've been enjoying since I downloaded them about a month ago. Apart from making me feel nostalgic about Richard H Kirk and Cabaret Voltaire, I've also found Fleet's music reminding me of many great electronica artists from the Nineties, where artists like Plastikman (Richie Hawtin), Luke Slater, and Photek, as well as the likes of Autechre, dragged me away from listening to electronic pop.

That's not to say that Fleet's music isn't original; far from it. The major boon here is the eclectic restlessness of Fleet's music, with tracks moving from skeletal Hawtin-esque beats ('Riddime' from MO75's Suppress), to post-industrial electronic body music in the vein of Nine Inch Nails or Nitzer Ebb ('Hell Machine' from MO75's Surrender), to frozen ambience (Laica's Kos tracks), to electro that sounds like it's being played through shattered glass ('Anderson's Ground' from 75 Surveillance's Honed), as perfected by Link, Plaid and Aphex Twin.

'Audio Out' (from Surrender) has a pattern of scarce beats that sounds like dropping a pingpong ball on a glass-topped table, while 'Cosy Funk' (from Honed) has a fidgety, ricocheting electronic dub rhythm and deep bassy sounds; it's like an otherworldly electro funk, hence the name. The longform 'Puls (Complete)' by Laica is a 19-minute ambient epic, much like Global Communication soundtracking a Clive Barker movie. Dark industrial sounds evolve out of clouds of noxious ambience while uptight dub beats drift in and out. It's engaging, absorbing and all those sorts of words.

Fleet kindly sent me an instrumental demo version of his take on Depeche Mode's 'See You', highlighting his ability to turn in electronic pop as well as the array of styles mentioned above.

It seems vaguely odd to be writing about downloads in the wake of Record Store Day 2011. That's mainly because I didn't participate in supporting independent record shops on 16 April, though I would have liked to. There were a number of highly limited items from artists that I like being made available, but instead I elected to spend my morning ferrying my two girls to various Saturday activities and parties. In the trade-off between records and my kids, my kids won the day. I couldn't be bothered with the queuing on the day, nor the sixteen mile drive to my nearest record shop, to be honest.

Does that make me a traitor to the cause?

Tuesday, 12 April 2011

Audio Journal : 12/04/2011

This isn't a post about The Strokes' new album, Angles, though it perhaps should be. I bought the album a couple of weeks back, have their previous three, but am not terribly struck on 'Under Cover Of Darkness', the first single from Angles; so I can't bring myself to listen to it properly. I've had it on in the background in the car, Mrs S has digested it properly, says it's okay, but I just can't be bothered.

The Strokes 'Angles'

The Strokes first came into my awareness one Friday evening. Mrs S (then Miss G) and I were eating dinner and watching Top Of The Pops. On came The Strokes with 'New York City Cops', the first single from their début album Is This It. Miss G said 'This is the type of song that my dad would mute when it came on the TV'. At the time the musical diet of our house was a blend of pop and R&B (it's not a period we're proud of) and The Strokes sounded like they came from another time, somewhere deeply unfashionable and clunky.

'Last Night' changed all that for me, and by the sound of things a lot of other people as well. It arrived like an urgent wake-up call from musical staleness, and I loved it. At the time my research into all things punk had been constrained to the UK post-punk duo of Magazine and Wire, and I'd yet to delve into NYC punk. Whether 'Last Night' encouraged that exploration or not, I forget. I know I bought Patti Smith's Horses and Televsion's Marquee Moon around this time, but I don't believe I was inspired to do so by The Strokes.

'Last Night', to me, at the time, was a refreshing slap in the face away from the dreary post-Oasis drudgery sound of Coldplay and Travis. I didn't get the album straight away and only came to own it a few years later and if I'm honest I still couldn't tell you much about the first two albums. The third album, First Impressions Of Earth I'm much more familiar with, and it's a very different proposition to the first two – more polished, cleaner, less angular; more commercial or more experimental with its sounds, or maybe both at the same time.

Having spent the last few years avidly delving into NYC punk and its antecedents, what now is evident to me is that The Strokes weren't original in the slightest, however necessary and fresh they felt at the time. I now see that 'Last Night' shamelessly borrows its uptight guitars from the New York Dolls' lurid pre-punk emission 'Trash'. This realisation only came to me relatively recently thanks to a compilation CD given away with Mojo years ago. I have several CDs that survey the CBGBs / Max's Kansas City scenes of Manhattan in the second half of the Seventies, but the one that came free with that edition of Mojo remains my favourite. So much so that I had to buy it again recently from eBay after getting rid of my original copy by mistake.

Mojo : I Heart NY Punk

I Heart NY Punk is a good survey of the NYC punk scene, and highlights just how much more diverse the Stateside scene was in comparison with the UK scene. You have lewd bar-room blues courtesy of Wayne (aka Jayne) County & The Electric Chairs' 'Fuck Off', a live version of James Chance's 10-minute demonic skronking sax 'n soul desperation epic 'King Heroin', the gritty electronic work of Suicide, Mink Deville's pre-Huey Lewis soul scratchings on 'She's So Tough' and a live rendition of Television's guitar precision on 'See No Evil'. Plus of course the New York Dolls glam-punk stomp mentioned earlier. The point is that punk, US style, was much more diverse than UK punk; where US punk was an uncompromising, alternative, artistic attitude, UK punk was more or less just a sound and a corresponding image. Mohawks and safety pins couldn't be further from David Byrne performing at CBGBs with Talking Heads in tucked-in shirts and a tidy college boy haircut.

The closest the two siblings came was in The Ramones. It may have been the nearest US punk ever came to our Sex Pistols, but The Ramones' sound was more or less just an amplified, fuzzed-up strain of joyous rock 'n roll and teenage rebellion. Phil Spector's later work with them thus makes complete sense. Dee Dee Ramone's heroin opus, 'Chinese Rocks' is included on I Heart NY Punk in the form of a cover by the doomed Johnny Thunders & The Heartbreakers. The chorus to this song is just about the most perfectly pure punk lyric ever – 'I'm living on Chinese rock / All my friends they are in hock / I'm living on Chinese rock / All my things are in the pawn shop'. As much as anything this acts as an allegory for the commitment-addiction of many of US punksters to the scene they were part of.

I have thus far resisted the bleak notion which I first heard espoused by a drummer school friend who said that there was 'no new music any more'. Yet now when I hear The Strokes and contrast it with punk, NY stylee, I see that they may have felt new and essential at the time, but they were really just shameless plagiarists.

I wonder if we'll feel the same about The Vaccines in a few years. Part of me hopes not. What Did You Expect From The Vaccines? was released the week before Angles and has attracted much hype. I listened to it for the first time a week or so ago and was initially absolutely floored, sufficiently so to post on Facebook and Twitter that it was totally worthy of the hype – and I normally have a real hatred herd following.

The Vaccines 'What Did You Expect From The Vaccines?

Two weeks after buying it, I'd say I still feel an excitement at songs like 'Wrecking Bar (Ra-Ra-Ra)', 'Blow It Up' and 'Norgaard', but apart from that there is a vague sense of having heard this all before. Vocalist Justin Young sounds like Tom Greenhalgh from Mekons crossed with Tom Hingley from Inspiral Carpets; 'Blow It Up' sounds like Jesus And Mary Chain covering Wreckless Eric; 'Wetsuit' sounds like Vampire Weekend produced by Phil Spector on day release; the NME described 'Wrecking Bar (Ra-Ra-Ra)' as the exhumed skeleton of Joey Ramone, still in his trademark leather jacket; and so on.

There is also the vaguest sensation of feeling that I'm a little too old for this album, concerned as it is with teenage models ('Norgaard'), adolescent relationship tensions, revenge sex ('Post Break-Up Sex') and the like, feeling 'smart' by dropping in references to F. Scott Fitzgerald (The Times pondered whether the album would be 'a soundtrack for a generation of students').

Last year I raved, along with just about everyone else, about The Drums' début album, and What Did You Expect From The Vaccines? has similarities in its instant-ness ('Norgaard' even has a Beach Boys-style vocal harmony reminiscent of The Drums). Repeated listening starts to make you feel queasy, like eating too many cream cakes. The Drums seemed to have more of an enduring appeal somehow.

Don't get me wrong, it's a great album. It just feels at times like an album of covers, even though I know it isn't.

At least Silicon Teens' Music For Parties from 1980 set out to be (mostly) an album of covers. A collection of synth pop versions of old rock 'n roll hits, like 'Do Wah Diddy', 'Memphis Tennessee', 'Sweet Little Sixteen' and 'You Really Got Me', it punkishly slaughtered some holy cows and somehow bypassed kitsch. My full review of this early synth gem can be found here.

Thursday, 7 April 2011

Audio Journal : 07/04/2011

A text conversation from earlier today.

Mrs S : 'Runaround Sue' by Dion is such a great song x

Me : But wouldn't it be better performed by [ex-Red Hot Chili Pepper guitarist John Frusciante]? x

Mrs S : No that's 'Runaway'. Have just gone from 'Runaround Sue' to 'Runaway' by [him] and now 'Runaway' by Nuyorican Soul. Taking a tour of my iPod while mopping x

Me : 'Run Run Run' by VU x

Mrs S : Now done Velvets and 'Run For Your Life' by The Beatles. Tired of running and moving on to something else x

Me : 'Walk Like An Egyptian' x

Mrs S : I tell a lie. Quick blast of 'Run Rudolph Run' by Chuck Berry before moving on. Could have had 'Run' by Snow Patrol, New Order, Vampire Weekend and 'Runaway' by The National or Kasabian. Also 'Run With The Boys' by Carl Barat but getting pretty close to 'Rusty The Cowboy' by The Wiggles. PS I will sell you the rights to my sonic adventure as a starting piece for your next blog x