02. From the Hips
03. I Couldn't Love You
04. Donkeys
05. Caveman
06. We're Going to Hell
07. Mama, I'm Satan
08. Let Me Up
09. Mama, I'm Swollen
10. What Have I Done?
02. Ghosts
03. I'm Not Scared
04. Runaway
05. Season of Illusions
06. Burning Up
07. Kletva
09. Predict the Day
10. The Lovers
11. Deep Blue
12. Tomorrow
13. Versus
Velocifero is the fourth album from four-piece electro-pop innovators Ladytron and their first since 2005's great leap forward, Witching Hour, and a change of label.
Picking up where they left off, the 13-track studio album sets out with customary disregard for categorisation by referencing as many genres, bands, percussive riffs, cheesey keyboard lines, airborne melodies and souped-up synths as they can. So many in fact that you'll want to play this on 'repeat' so that you can keep a running tally.
Even the choice of recording venue seems more than just coincidental. The Studio de la Grande Armée in Paris was where Duran Duran recorded their career-making Rio and other notables – Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, INXS, Françoise Hardy and ABBA's Frida (the blonde one) among them – have all benefitted from its Gallic magic and charm. Factor in additional production credits here for Ed Banger Records' Vicarious Bliss and Nine Inch Nails keyboardist Alessandro Cortini and something special was bound to happen.
Velocifero gets under way with the delightfully dark wrap-around fuzz of Black Cat – Roxy Music out of Gary Numan driven along with Kraftwerk-like discipline and held together by Bulgarian vocals.
Lead single Ghosts carries itself with a jaunty Goldfrappian bounce but eschews glitter and cod glam to offer something altogether more rewarding. Runaway's infectious Pet Shop Boys-accented mantra is no less retro but staunchly refuses nostalgia and where Deep Blue rises to blissfully enraptured heights and Tomorrow coasts on the sweetest simplicity of execution, Predict The Day delivers a steadily mounting maelstrom of sound that boils over into a magnificently crafted messiness.
Ladytron have never made much of an impact on the UK charts. If there's any justice, Velocifero will catapult them out of their decade-long cult status into deserved commercial success. -bbc.co.uk
By now, our collective new wave nostalgia hangover should be staggering. But there's something about the way Boston trio Pretty & Nice re-imagine the playfully manic, barbed-wire sounds of Devo, XTC, and This Year's Model-era Elvis Costello. Their approach is so guileless and giddy, you'll get drunk on that spazzy, sneering sound all over again. Though the rousing, delightfully messy songs on their sophomore album (their first for Sub Pop affiliate Hardly Art) are neither pretty nor nice, they do show off some masterfully economical riffs and herky-jerky (if not outright dance-y) rhythms.Get Young, which clocks in under 28 minutes, swells with energy and amphetamine-addled pop hooks, making it hard to ignore and near impossible not to like.
More insistent and deliberately aggressive than the tunes they are modeled after, Get Young's tracks spit their muscular guitars out in percussive bursts, teasing listeners with a playful Jam-like melody or some flirty/flinty synthesized textures. But then, lest they sound too likeably pop, P&N wrap their songs in antagonistically tinny production that leaves them buzzy, muddy, and intentionally amateurish-sounding. Frontman Holden Lewis can't help that his reedy voice recalls Elvis Costello's (though he certainly could avoid the faux-British pronunciation), but it can make it hard to not see every song in light of the comparison. "Tora Tora Tora", with its choppy staccatos, sing-along chorus, and churning keyboards, admittedly owes more of a debt to the rhythmic weirdness of Devo. But the way that Lewis delivers his words, with that familiar demanding foghorn of a voice, he may as well be singing "Radio, Radio".
But Pretty & Nice modernize their sound with computer-age flourishes. Songs like "Hideaway Tokyo" and "Grab Your Nets" bury a bleeping Nintendo soundtrack underneath their breakneck rhythms and prickly guitars, as if the Attractions added a game of Tetris as their secret mechanical fourth member. And with their fuzzy, blown-speaker frequencies, the keyboards often recall the screaming feedback of Justice's synths rather than the hollowed out 1980s versions of their heroes. Likewise, "Peekaboo" is a nice surprise, breaking up the album's disorienting rhythms and shout-singing with its easy, dreamy pulse. On that track Lewis' wispy falsetto spills over thrifty guitar strumming and drummer Bobby Landry's gentle-heartbeat percussion. Pausing for such a break three songs into their throttling collection, Pretty & Nice give you just enough time to catch your breath and give into the reverberating loveliness before diving back into the fray at a pulse-racing pace.
It makes sense, then, that their album's title is a demand. It's not We Are Young or You Are Young or even Being Young; it's Get Young, the imperative. Pretty & Nice's songs challenge listeners to keep up with their blasts of catchy melody purposely obfuscated by noisy clatter or aggressive chugging. "Get with it," the collection seems to insist. "Give in, don't be such an adult!" Some who won't like Get Young are probably too grown up for its enchantingly juvenile thrill ride, but there's something to be said for taking the album's titular advice to heart. -Pitchforkmedia.com
If it has felt like a long time coming for Popup’s debut long player to land in our arms then maybe it’s because we’ve been aware of them being damn good from very early on. Furious early demos, bursting with barely contained energy, recorded the spittle-strafed epithets shot from Damian Gilhooly’s lips, setting the bar high early on, and as a slow trickle of songs suggested, considerable promise. For A Time and a Place they’ve come good on that promise.
The musical reference points are plentiful but it points to a certain romance and freewheeling – Arab Strap in their fondness for a wandering narrative, The Delagados’ skill with a delicate image and Sons and Daughters’ nous for a rollicking driving beat. At the same time, however, their sound is all their own.
At points wistful, warming and biting, Popup sound like indie music from back when indie meant music made by intense young men and women whose fondness for a trebly guitar sound was second only to their taste for a confessional lyric; music made for its own sake regardless of the potential for global stardom. This band are the real deal, trading in blunt confessionals instead of vast terrace chants.
All we ever want from our pop music is a connection, someone who understands the pain or pleasure in our predicament, our hopes, our dreams, and perhaps most importantly, our failures. We want someone who can convey our hurt in a way that makes us not sound like a clown. Look no further. -list.co.uk
01. Love Triangle
02. Poison Apple
03. Stagecoach
04. A Year In A Comprehensive
05. The Saviour Of Judas McDade
06. Dreams Like These
07. Chinese Burn
08. What’s The Matter Now?
09. The First Weekend Of The Smoking Ban
10. Pure
11. In Her Day
12. Pull The Fuse
13. Lucy, What You Trying To Say?
The duo's debut album The Best Party Ever was one of those sleeper hits that took a while to seep through to many people but received a rave review on these very pages back in 2005.
After an enforced hiatus due to record company shenanigans, Owen and Hobbs have returned to their Too Young To Die label to release this new album. And for fans of their earlier work there is plenty here to delight.
The Law Of The Playground is a more cohesive set than the debut album, which essentially bundled three EPs together. This time around there is a greater sense of purpose in the music and lyrics that marks The Law Of The Playground as a definitive statement for Owen and Hobbs.
The opening Saddle Up is a perfect introduction to the duo's musical ethos: sweet vocal harmonies, a melodic structure straight out of country music, and parping brass and glockenspiel sprinkled like a sugar coating over everything. Meanwhile, the underlying threat beneath the surface pleasantness of the lyrics ("I know there is a big scary world out there just waiting for me") carries on the themes of the first record.
A Balloon On A Broken String could be the perfect song title for Owen and Hobbs, evoking the strange mixture of childhood wonder and adult melancholy that permeates all their music. The track itself, with its recurrent fuzzy guitar motif, introduces a more urgent tone than is normal in The Boy Least Likely To world, while Owen finally nails the perfect Green Gartsideimpression.
When Life Gives Me Lemons I Make Lemonade is the closest track in structure and melody to the debut album, while Owen's assertion that "I've always been a hopeless romantic" brings a warm feeling to the heart in chilly times. There is an even greater cautiousness to his starry-eyed optimism this time around, however, as he reminds us that these days he always "sleeps with the light on".
As on the debut album there is the occasional lull in proceedings, with both I Box Up The Butterflies and Stringing Up Conkers marking time. Fortunately, these two tracks bookend the absolutely gorgeous The Boy With Two Hearts, which positively skips by on the back of an exquisite brass arrangement.
The Boy Least Likely To Is A Machine is a curio, introducing a thumping beat and electronic squiggles to back up some unsettling lyrics. More than any other track on the album, it reassert the feeling that where the debut album was full of jejune optimism this time around all is not well in the world.
Despite its cutesy title, Whiskers reaffirms this feeling. The martial drumbeat lends lyrics such as "he sits around the campfire and licks his wounds" and "I found his little plastic shield chewed up on the battlefield" an added oomph. It's as if nature red in tooth and claw has descended on the cute animals from the cover of The Best Party Ever in all its vengeful fury.
The Nature Of The Boy Least Likely To mines a similar seam, managing to make cricket pitches, chocolate raisins and fallen leaves sound eerily sinister. The increasing sense of isolation that pervades the second half of the album is writ large in I Keep Myself To Myself and The Worm Forgives The Plough.
A Fairytale Ending brings the album to a close on a note of doubt that belies its title. And this is why this album is such a triumph. Owen and Hobbs could have just rewritten their debut note for note, but instead they have chosen to take us on a journey that many of us know all too well. Here's waiting for the next instalment. -Musicomh.com
Welcome to the neon-coloured world of Alexandru M. Seidiu aka Candlestickmaker! Enjoy a ride full of squashed and mashed up beats. The correctly tickled rhythms swoosh over you in a hustle and bustle, take you direclty on a rollercoaster through a happy-acid-megalomania, into a world where SpongeBob enjoys playing with the nipples of Hello Kitty...
Fantastic, mad, ill, sweet, trippy... So don't take neither the blue or red pill! Take the coloured one! -Phlow-magazine
Sometimes it truly is the quiet ones. Frightened Rabbit are testament to this. Two years after the (first) release of their debut album Sing The Greys, a good album but by no means a classic, and infrequent trips around the UK toilet circuit the Selkirk, Scotland-based four-piece have, from nowhere, released one of 2008’s truly great indie-pop albums. Michael Stipe, take note.
On their sophomore offering the band have shaven off the instrumental passages that snaked through their first release and created 14 blissfully simple pop songs. Opener’The Modern Leper’ and recent single ’Heads Roll Off’ yearn for Radio 1 A-List inclusion, all witty turns of phrase and soaring, catchy choruses, and yet they still have an undeniably rustic, scruffy quality, aided by Scott Hutchinson's wailing vocals and the substitution of a bass guitar for a second acoustic guitar playing lower notes.
It is on 'I Feel Better' that this mix of cohesive songwriting and clumsy delivery is at its most potent; a decidedly up-tempo number that has the same high-octane caterwaul-led feel to it as that on Clap Your Hands Say Yeah's more jaunty moments, but transposed into the near-orchestral resplendence of The Hidden Cameras.
But the beauty of The Midnight Organ Fight is that it works in any location and/or situation. It is of such a substantial quality throughout that it can last through repeated full spins on lonely train journeys through idyllic landscapes, yet still has a high enough ratio of glorious pop hooks and distinctive ideas per song to not be ruined by a click of a ‘random’ or ‘shuffle’ button.
Although this album could very well catapult Frightened Rabbit into the mainstream, and deservedly so, it is evident this is by no means intentional. The Midnight Organ Fight is neither a genuine 'safe' option for the band nor a blatant fan-base builder which obscures the band’s own charms as has been the case for fellow countrymen Biffy Clyro and (sort of – they’re based in Glasgow) Snow Patrol.
Here there can be no snobbish derision and calls of 'selling out' or playing to the average man; in creating an album showcasing the very best of the band’s talents they have created one so perfectly fit for, as Scott so vividly puts, “the soft, soft static” of popular radio. A happy coincidence, then -drownedinsound.com
1. The Modern Leper
2. I Feel Better