Posts Tagged ‘Rock’

Watch: ‘Hard’ by Los Saints

Posted: 8 August 2024 in Recommended Streams and Videos, Singles and EPs
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San Diego-based alternative rockers Los Saints have released a new visualizer for the single ‘Hard’ off their recently released debut album Certified, out now ENCI Records.

Watch the video here:

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Art opens a window into the soul. It doubles as a haven for all of our most intimate thoughts, desires, and emotions. Like splashing paint on a canvas, Los Saints pour all of their experiences and feelings into a vibrant mosaic of indie, alternative, and rock. They piece together memories and mantras in the form of gauzy melodies, fuzzy guitars, and dusty rhythmic grooves. Co-founded by cousins Angel Mariscal [vocals, guitar] and Emiliano Garcia [drums], as well as mutual friend Gianluca Exposito [guitar], who has since parted ways with the band, the group have quietly buzzed out of the sleepy border town of Chula Vista, CA with sold out shows and acclaim from the likes of San Diego Union Tribune, Remezcla, Alternative Press, and more.

Now, Los Saints sharpen their distinct and dynamic signature style on their full-length debut LP, Certified.

“Los Saints isn’t just a band for me,” proclaims Angel. “It’s everything. It’s all I can do. That goes for the other guys too. The more we know ourselves, the more we know what our band is and are able to define our sound. Certified is who we are not just as musicians, but as people.”

Growing up in a Mexican-American family, he immersed himself in music. His mom hailed from Tijuana, and his dad grew up in the United States. Classic rap boomed through the house as he eventually gravitated towards Mac Miller and his “lifelong biggest influence” Cage The Elephant. In 2019, he formed Los Saints with Emiliano, envisioning “music almost everyone from any background can vibe with.”

In honor of their heritage, the group chose the moniker Los Saints.

“We were thinking of the Day of the Dead in Mexico, and its primary representation is a skull,” he goes on. “We needed to make it our own, so we turned it into ‘Spanglish’ by choosing ‘Los Saints’. Like the music, it’s a mixture.”

Los Saints initially gained traction with the Welcome To Confusion EP in 2022. The Honey Pop christened them “your next indie obsession,” while San Diego Union Tribune pondered, “Could Los Saints be Chula Vista’s version of Cage the Elephant?” Building on this momentum, the three-piece hit the studio with producer Keith Cooper (Dear Boy) and brought ‘Certified’ to life during sessions at Wildflower Recordings in L.A. The first single and opener “Faded” hinges on a bold bass line and a punchy drum groove. Guitars glow beneath a hazy and hypnotic vocal plea, “I don’t want you to look at me when you’re faded?”

On “Never Said,” a loose chime-y riff pierces a disco-style beat as falsetto rings out on the refrain.

“I’m not a dating app kind of dude,” he admits. “I’m a cave dweller, but I think so many kids my age can identify with these experiences of modern dating. On the first half of the song, you’re going into online dating with genuine intentions and looking for something true. The second half is the aftermath where reality hits, and your view changes. You realize all that glitters isn’t gold.”

Evocative of yet another dynamic, glitchy keys wrap around breezy acoustic guitar on the somberly nostalgic “If Everything Goes.” He sighs, “Don’t call me back, even though I’d like you to.”

“I was beating myself up for the way I am and how it affects romantic relationships,” he continues. “This person left your life, but you can’t help but blame yourself. Even though it was going to happen either way, you just think you’re the problem.”

Elsewhere, “Doctor” conjures “dark imagery of being interrogated like in a movie” via breathy lyrics and an off-kilter soundscape. Then, there’s “Hard.” Raw emotion seeps through the cracks in the vocals as thick distortion buoys the hook, “Help me see again who you are.”

“It’s about how being in a toxic situation—either romantically or with friends—has affected me and brought me down,” he states.

The title track culminates on a chantable chorus awash in shoegaze distortion. Stretching to a soaring climax, it evokes the feeling of “being isolated because you’re in a relationship that your friends and family don’t approve of.”

In the end, Los Saints bring the kind of emotion that bonds us together to the surface.

“When you listen to us, I hope you find our art to be a place of comfort,” Mariscal leaves off. “Sometimes, I cry when I write. I’m always trying to come up with songs you can connect to so you don’t feel alone. The world is a tough place. We can be friends one way or another.”

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The Royal Ritual / Neon Fields / Material Goods – The Fulford Arms, York, 24th July 2024

Posted: 27 July 2024 in Live, Reviews
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Christopher Nosnibor

Being restricted to live shows within walking distance of one’s house really does change one’s perspective and selections. As much as it also significantly limits my options, I’m fortunate to have no fewer than three venues within this range, and spotting that The Royal Ritual – a band I’ve long been aware of but have never witnessed live – were playing at one of them provided more than enough of a poke to get out.

It’s not exactly heaving. That is to say, come 8:15, it’s still pretty quiet, even for a Wednesday night. But then, I noticed that York was conspicuously quiet all day today: driving almost empty roads to a near-dead Tesco was as welcome as it was strange earlier in the day. The first week of the school summer holidays, and it seems everyone has buggered off – apart from the tourists clogging the town centre, which was far from quiet in the afternoon. But tourists tend not to seek out relatively unknown alternative bands playing a mile or two out of town. They should. Live music is as integral to a city’s nightlife as its pubs and bars and so on. I once ditched a conference dinner in favour of a gig when visiting Stirling, having clocked that maybeshewill were playing, and in the process, discovered And So I Watch You from Afar, who absolutely blew me away, plus I got to explore a new venue. It was a memorable event, and one which has stuck with me. It’s unlikely the alternative would have had quite the same impact – and while I’ll never know, as someone who’s uncomfortable dining with strangers and making small talk, I’m as comfortable with my choice now as then.

Comfortable isn’t really my default, and caving crawled out of my bunker, this is an evening I’m quite content to hide in a dark corner with a pint and observe.

Material Goods are a last-minute replacement for Dramalove. It’s a solid, blank name which suits the duo’s style, which comprises some heavy, complex synth work paired with live percussion – and quite outstanding live percussion at that. The processed vocals are a bit muffled, but overall, the sound is dark and dense and the drums really cut through it with energy and force. Essentially, their palette is 90s alt rock, a bit NIN but with a vague dash of nu metal, and a bit Filter, too. Multitasking and a vast amount of gear affords the singer limited scope for movement on stage, but the sound has a really good, strong energy, despite the songs being pretty downtempo and downbeat.

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Material Goods

With Material Goods overrunning and Neon Fields also possessing an immense amount of flash-looking tech which needed setting up, we’re fifteen minutes behind time when they take to the stage. Sonically, they’re astonishing. Playing a hundred-and-twenty-five-capacity pub venue, they sound like half a million quid’s worth of gear in an arena. And the songs match it. They sound like they look: black clad, tattoo bands, neatly-trimmed beards, big, soaring emotional outpourings… And completely lacking in soul. Christ, this guy’s level of emotional trauma is enough to raise the blood pressure to induce a heart attack. Wracked with anguish and all of the pain of the lovelorn, the love-torn… And yet it’s all articulated so blandly, everything is so slick, and so one-level. The theatre soon wears thin, and I start to forget I’m listening to it while I’m listening to it. It doesn’t help that there’s a group of four people bang in front of me gabbing on and pricking around, pulling faces, play-fighting, the guys trying to impress the birds by demonstrating their strength by lifting one another up… they get shushed by a fan but even the absence of their distraction doesn’t really improve the experience. There’s some earnest, meaningful falsetto, and the penultimate song had some cliché tribal drumming, and they wrapped up their bombastic set ten minutes after the headliner was due on.

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Neon Fields

The Royal Ritual are also a duo who have an extremely ‘produced’ sound. But their approach to production owes more to the methods of Trent Reznor as pioneered in the early 90s on Broken and The Downward Spiral, balancing gritty live guitars with synths and fucked-up distortion and harnessing their tempestuousness in a way that creates a balanced yet abrasive sound. David Lawrie plays live electronic drum pads in addition to the sequenced beats, adding dynamics and live energy to proceedings, and flitting between the drum pads, synths, and mic stand, he’s incredibly busy throughout the set. But something about Lawrie’s delivery highlights everything that was absent on Neon Fields, and just carries so much more weight: the whole package brings a rush of adrenaline propelled by that emotional heft and solid force.

Objectively, the feel is very Stabbing Westward, and goes hard NIN at times in its combination of guitar, synths, and sequenced and live electronic drums. The Royal Ritual are strong on dynamics and atmosphere, and Lawrie is an intense and compelling performer.

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The Royal Ritual

He does break out of the moody persona to thank other bands and plug merch, but what do you do? In the current climate, bands sadly need to plug the stall. The fact that David steps out of broody tortured soul for two minutes of affable chap may seem hard to reconcile, but then, this perhaps speaks more of the human condition than remaining ‘in character’; people are complex and conflicted, multifaceted and inconsistent. And this is what truly lies as the heart of tonight’s performance by The Royal Ritual. Digging deep into the complexities of the psyche, there’s something about the duo’s performance that gouges into the flesh and demands contemplation.

Vamberator – Sleep the Giant of Sleeps

Posted: 25 July 2024 in Reviews, Singles and EPs
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Unifaun Records – 26th July 2024

Christopher Nosnibor

Vamberator’s debut single, ‘Sleep the Giant of Sleeps’ (26th July 2024) is from the forthcoming album Age of Loneliness (Unifaun Records). And? Well, Vamberator is a new musical duo of some pedigree – namely Jem Tayle of Shelleyan Orphan and Boris Williams of The Cure.

This is far from a joyful reuniting: Williams had also contributed to Shelleyan Orphan, until the band’s demise following the death of Caroline Crawley in 2016.

Jem describes his transition from Shelleyan Orphan to Vamberator as follows: “After Caroline’s passing, I had been offered the chance to make a solo album. I had been writing on and off without a focus and not having someone to bounce off was new to me. Boris is family, and we have played together with Shelleyan Orphan live and in the studio on and off for years, so it felt very natural for us to work on this together. I am extremely fortunate to have a drummer of his calibre pounding out the rhythms on this album.”

Grief has a habit of manifesting and finding its channels via unexpected routes and channels, and – from painful personal experience – creative outlets can be incredibly beneficial, a form of therapy, even, and so there’s a clear sense in Tayle’s wanting to push through on this new project. And the first fruits are pretty tasty.

‘Sleep the Giant of Sleeps’ is a mega-hybrid of alt-rock, post-punk, and psyche. I mean it with no malice when I observe that many artists who reach a certain age lose some of their edge and start putting out kinds middle of the road rock that’s like Chris Read without the guitar breaks. There are some elements of that underpinning the form of ‘Sleep the Giant of Sleeps’; standard guitar chord progressions tied to a fairly mid-pace rhythm. But there’s much to set this apart, too, in particular a certain sense of playfulness and experimentalism. There are some unexpected twists to the percussion, some savvy instrumental switches from guitar to piano to the fore, and some spacey whizzes and whirrs. The arrangement is layered, bold, orchestral. The video is a bit nuts.

They reference Lou Reed, and he’s clearly in the mix, but this whips together a visionary sonic cocktail which is impossible to pin down. But more significant than the wide-ranging elements and dazzling sonic experience, is the fact that ‘Sleep the Giant of Sleeps’ is a top tune with hooks and soul and passion.

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Vamberator - Sleep the Giant of Sleeps

The Virginmarys – Northwest Coast

Posted: 9 July 2024 in Reviews, Singles and EPs
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5th July 2024

Christopher Nosnibor

The trajectory of the career of The Virginmarys has been an unexpected one. Starting out as a classic punk-rock power trio, they seemed to really seemed to find their niche and hit their stride when paired back to a two-piece. If the duo configuration has grown in popularity in recent years, there have equally been duos expanding their lineups.

For many acts, the cost of touring has rendered the minimal setup a necessity, but for many, it’s proved beneficial in other ways, too, compelling artists to really focus on their compositions. There is absolutely no space for a weak link or any slacking in a two-piece: there is simply nowhere to hide, and no space for skulking low in the mix adding the odd but of layering or texture.

To compensate for the lack of additional members, the strongest two-piece acts play louder, harder, determined to fill the space, and both players need to bring one hundred percent and combine to deliver something more than the sum of the parts.

The Virginmarys may not look or sound like an obvious choice of support act for The Sisters of Mercy, but The Sisters have a long history of selecting interesting and contracting tour buddies, from Public Enemy for an aborted US tour, to I Like Trains and Cubanate via Oceansize and drum-machine-driven grunge act La Costa Rasa. But contrasts tend to work well: who needs a goth band ripping off The Sisters supporting The Sisters? Conceivably one of the most cringe supports I ever had the excruciating agony of witnessing was Broken Bone, spectacularly wanky and 100% cliché industrial noise duo supporting Whitehouse. So. The Viringmarys aren’t goth and aren’t about to swerve that way, either, but no doubt they’ll have made some new fans along the way on their recent travels, and deservedly so. And those fans – and the older ones – won’t be disappointed by this new single offering.

‘Northwest Coast’ is the first single from their first album since becoming a two-piece, and it captures force of The Macclesfield power duo’s live performances, bringing a crunching riff and spadefuls of northern grit – without being dour and po-faced about chips and beans and tea, with cans of Boddingtons featuring in the video. Yep, for all of their travels, they’ve not lost sight of where they’ve come from, and this is certainly not a case of a band spending a week in the US and coming back singing in American accents. If anything, there’s an overt pride in their geographical roots, and they’re keeping it real. And it all works: it’s authentically and unapologetically rock ‘n’ roll, it’s got some swagger but arrives without any sense of superiority or arrogance. And it’s a proper, solid, stomping rock tune that kicks arse.

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The Virginmarys Band image

Melt-Banana – 3 + 5

Posted: 30 June 2024 in Albums, Reviews
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A-Zap Records – 23rd August 2024

Christopher Nosnibor

There is truly only one Melt-Banana. And Melt-Banana boldly encapsulate all of the craziness that makes Japanese music so peculiar and unlike the music to emerge from any other place. Here in the west, we can, in truth, only marvel at it – all of it. Because it makes no sense. It’s a country of extremes, with hyper-pop culture dominating, and a sense of plasticness and artifice defining the mainstream. But then, Japan is also the home of the most extreme noise – Merzbow, Masonna, for example. It’s not just extreme sonically, but beyond words in terms of performance.

The pitch for this, their eighth album, informs us that ‘3 + 5’ synthesizes elements of a variety of Extreme Musics, Hyper-Pop, classic Punk, vintage Metal, and Noise. It’s informed by Japanese culture in general, and the subcultures of gaming, anime and homegrown underground music in particular. The album’s nine tracks have been crafted to maximize the independent appeal of each song (since so many listeners will be streaming and playlisting these songs). Each selection boasts its own unique charm and ideas that beg for repeated listening.’

I had the good fortune to witness their live spectacle here in York not so long ago, and they were everything anyone even vaguely aware of their work would expect: intense, noisy, crazy, and wildly entertaining.

They create music that fits with the bizarre incongruity of their name – abstract, humorous, combining elements that don’t – or shouldn’t – really sit together – somewhat surreal, patently absurd, but also perhaps a shade Pop Art. Put another way, everything all at once, tossed in a blender and blitzed, the output being like a bubbling hot smoothie or something.

They do have a tendency to favour short and fast, as recent taster track ‘Flipside’ reminded us, clocking in at a minute and fifty-six. It does happen to be the album’s shortest track, but then, the longest is under three-and-a-half, and the majority of the nine songs are around the two-and-a-half minute mark. That means that with a running time of around twenty-seven minutes, the album would comfortably fit on a 10” record.

For a moment, ‘Code’ hints at something spacious, experimental and electronic to open the album – before seconds later, all kinds of sonic mayhem erupt and chipmunk yelping vocal squeak over something that resembles Metal Machine Music played at double speed, before it takes a turn into space rock territory, but again, at twice the pace, with some prog flourishes and a bunch or bleeps and widdly synths all criss-crossing over one another at two hundred miles an hour. For anyone for whom this is their introduction to Melt-Banana, they’ll likely find themselves dizzy and completely bewildered as to wat the fuck they’ve just heard. It is, unquestionably, utterly deranged, and at doesn’t get much more quintessentially Japanese than this.

‘Puzzle’ is kind of a high-octane rock tune, at least at first – but then someone hits the accelerator and in a blink you’re on ‘Rainbow Road’ on the N64 Mario Kart after eating three bags of Skittles and you’re totally wired.

Hyper doesn’t really cut it. Even the more expansive instrumental segments of ‘Case D’ happen at about 600bpm, and it’s like listening to a prog album at 45rpm.

As I listen, I find myself typing faster and faster, as if I’ve sunk six cans of Red Bull while chomping on a whole packet of Pro Plus. My fingers are pale blurs against my black illuminated keyboard, and they’ve seemingly run away from my brain and are just frothing out words in response to the frantic mania pouring into my ears – no, not pouring, but being injected by 10,000-volts of electrical current into my brain via my eardrums.

‘Scar’ slams big guitar rock and skittish melodic pop together like a banging of heads. It sounds like music from a computer game or an animated movie. It sounds like music made in a fictional context. Because in real life, music like this couldn’t exist. And in the main, it doesn’t. Only Melt-Banana are demented enough to actually make it.

Penultimate track ‘Whisperer’ goes big on dance / rock crossover and actually slows to a pace that doesn’t feel like a synaptic twitch or a seizure, before ‘Seeds’ closes the album with a two-and-a-half minute frenzy which chucks everything into the mix.

The whole experience leaves you feeling giddy, dazed, amazed. 3 + 5 may not bring anything radical, new, or revelatory to the Melt-Banana oeuvre, but stands as a classic example of what they do – and it’s as ace as it is nuts.

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Watch: ‘Paint It All in Blue’ by Mayflower Madame

Posted: 25 June 2024 in Recommended Streams and Videos, Singles and EPs
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‘Paint It All in Blue’ is the second taster from Norwegian band Mayflower Madame’s highly anticipated third album Insight, out on 1st November via Night Cult Records/ Up In Her Room/Icy Cold Records.

Following first single ‘A Foretold Ecstasy’, which refined their signature blend of post-punk, shoegaze and psychedelia into a sharper soundscape, the new offering instantly puts a spell on you with its throbbing bass lines, motorik drums and hypnotic guitars, until it opens up midway, leaving you drifting in a sea of dreamy melancholia.

The emotional intensity is heightened by frontman Trond Fagernes’ deeply reverberating lyrics about addiction and escapism when love is experienced as a drug. Combining the rhythmic grooves of krautrock and post-punk with the dazzling atmospherics of shoegaze and neo-psychedelia, ‘Paint It All in Blue’ is a profoundly dynamic song unfolding layer by layer.

Watch the video here:

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Over the past years, Mayflower Madame have gained a reputation far beyond their hometown of Oslo, Norway. Following the release of their debut album Observed in a Dream in 2016, which received rave reviews and earned them tours across Europe and North America, their 2020 sophomore album Prepared for a Nightmare firmly established their position as one of the continent’s leading purveyors of cinematic psych-gaze swathed in 1980s dark romanticism.  

In 2022, the band returned to touring the UK and Europe, while last year it focused on writing and recording new music and releasing a Deluxe Version of Prepared for a Nightmare containing 5 new bonus tracks.  

Their upcoming album has been mixed and mastered by renowned Italian engineer Maurizio Baggio (The Soft Moon, Boy Harsher, The Vacant Lots). It will be released digitally via their label Night Cult Records (Norway), on vinyl via Up In Her Room (UK) and on CD via Icy Cold Records (France).

Mayflower Madame is Trond Fagernes (vocals, guitar, bass) and Ola J. Kyrkjeeide (drums). On studio recordings, they are joined by Kenneth Eknes (synths). "Paint It All in Blue" also features Rune Øverby (guitar).

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Octavia Wakes – Maybe

Posted: 9 June 2024 in Reviews, Singles and EPs
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31st May 2024

Christopher Nosnibor

There seems to be a proliferation of alternative rock acts emerging of late, many with female vocalists, which can only be a good thing. As the ‘Lips Can Kill’ tour, which saw Tokyo Taboo, Yur Mum, Pollypikpoketz, and Healthy Junkies team up to offer a package deal demonstrated, women can – and do – rock every bit as hard as men. Not that this should even be a topic in 2024. But it is, and since – despite Taylor Swift achieving true world dominance beyond even Madonna – women remain criminally underrepresented, especially in the rock and alternative fields, it’s a topic that should be tackled head-on, but not in a patronising, tokenistic way.

With ‘Maybe’, the last track from their debut EP, which they’ve been drip-feeding over the last eleven months, Nottingham quartet Octavia Wakes stand on their own merits. It’s a cracking tune, with bold, overdriven guitars stacked up-front as the vehicle for a strong, melodic and hooky vocal.

As is the case with so many great songs, it reminds me of something, but I can’t quite place it, and as such, ‘Maybe’ achieves that joyous blend of freshness and familiarity.

The bassline and guitarline at the start is reminiscent of Editors’ ‘Bullets’, but played at double speed, and the song positively fizzes with energy: it’s busy, urgent, grabbing, punky and catchy without being punk-pop. While lyrically, it’s pretty raw and feels personal, telling as it does, ‘the story of a male friend reacting poorly to being spurned, making the protagonist question their own decisions and how those choices make others see them… Along with the idea of being made out to be the bad guy whichever way the scenario plays out.’

Sometimes, you just can’t win. Unless, of course, you consider channelling that situation into something artistically strong. With ‘Maybe’, Octavia Wakes emerge triumphant – and maybe they’re ones to watch for more of.

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Lip Critic – Hex Dealer

Posted: 17 May 2024 in Albums, Reviews
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Partisan – 17th May 2024

Christopher Nosnibor

It feels like no time at all since I was reviewing the cassette release of Lip Critic II, and that their ascent from self-released EPs and cassette-only albums on microlabels has been astoundingly rapid, but time has a way of playing tricks when it comes to perception: Lip Critic II was, in fact, released almost four years ago. And now, signed to Partisan and having gained significant traction playing SXSW, with the NME claiming bragging rights for giving them a cover feature a few months ago, as well as a five-star review last November, they’re certainly breaking through. There’s no question that it’s entirely deserved, either: despite being overtly weird and clearly non-mainstream, they’re a quintessential cult alternative band, the likes of which gain substantial hardcore followings and are revered long after their passing.

With a lineup consisting of two drummers and two synths, Lip Critic are no ordinary band, and they produce no ordinary music, and Hex Dealer is a schizophrenic sonic riot. It’s a bit cleaner, the production rather more polished, but fundamentally, it’s the same deranged percussion-heavy cacophony that Lip Critic have always given us, and it’s still true that most of their songs are short and snappy – around two-and-a-half minutes. Consequently, Hex Dealer is aa succession of short, sharp shocks, like poking a socket with a wet finger. The whole thing is a spasm and a twitch.

‘It’s the Magic’ brings together a smooth croon that has hints of Marc Almond and some shouty rap mashed together with some Nine Inch Nails industrial noise and some woozy hip-hop beats and some aggressive drum ‘n’ bass, all in under four and a half minutes.

Lead single ‘The Heart’ is a standout, for is frenetic, kinetic energy, and its hookiness, but it’s a question of context: it’s a blissed-out pop tune in comparison to the blistering percussive onslaught and distorted dark hip-hop blast of ‘Pork Belly’, a cut that takes me right back to the early 90s, specifically the Judgement Night soundtrack. Single ‘In The Wawa (Convinced I Am God)’ is entirely representative of the album as a whole, compressing all of its warped elements into a noisy, spasmodic, hi-NRG two minutes and nineteen seconds. Crazed, hyperactive, it’s explosive and it’s unique.

It’s a rock album with rap trappings. It’s a rap album with rock trappings. It’s a mess and shouldn’t, doesn’t, work. Only, it does. And with ‘My Wife and the Goblin’, they introduce some gnarly noise which isn’t metal by any stretch, but it certainly gets dark near the end. I say ‘near the end’, but it’s only a minute and forty-one and it’s a real brain-melting mess of noise.

If the beats to grow a little samey over the duration of the album, the counterargument is that the thrashing percussive attacks give the set a vital coherence. Packing twelve tracks into just over thirty minutes, and more ideas per minute than any brain can reasonably be expected to process, Hex Dealer feels like Lip Critic’s definitive statement.

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Gramma Vedetta – Don’t Cross the Line

Posted: 9 April 2024 in Reviews, Singles and EPs
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5th April 2024

James Wells

While firmly rooted in classic stoner rock, Gramma Vedetta’s latest offering, which follows on the heels of album The Hum of the Machine, which made number twenty-five in the Doom Charts (the existence of which is something I was unaware of), is an expansive, ambitious heavy prog monster of a tune. Yes, it’s over six minutes long and built around a big, swinging blues-based riff which displays elements of Led Zeppelin and Black Sabbath, but also brings in a hint of Pink Floyd in its widescreen feel. It also packs in a bunch of changes in tempo and transitions through a number of quite distinct segments.

Despite all of the elements having been done to death, ‘Don’t Cross the Line’ still feels like it’s doing something a little bit different, and, more importantly, it does what it does pretty well. Since it’s nigh on impossible to come out with something that’s entirely new – and even less likely to conjure something that’s new and remotely listenable or worth hearing – quality counts for a lot. Balancing beefy riffage with keen melody, ‘Don’t Cross the Line’ has enough to appeal to both traditionalists and those who like it with a bit of a twist, and that makes it pretty solid in my book.

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Blueblut – Lutebulb

Posted: 11 March 2024 in Albums, Reviews
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Janka Industries – 3rd May 2024

Christopher Nosnibor

Once again, I find myself tussling with a jazz album and in a quandary as to quite what to make of it. For many, many years, I was absolutely certain I detested jazz. Until, that is, having been introduced in my line of work to acts like The Necks, I came to learn I’d simply been exposed to the wrong kinds of jazz. The weirdy, noisy, cacophonous kinds of jazz made sense in context of my appreciation of mathy noise rock, and wasn’t such an immense leap from Shellac to be incomprehensible. Like any genre, or even tea or coffee, it’s all about finding a point of entry, a flavour that suits your palette. I used to hate both tea and coffee, having been given the former with full-fat milk and sugar and the latter in the form of a fairly weak blend with milk but no sugar, and they only really clicked when I ditched the sugar and discovered Earl Grey, and that you could have really dark-roast coffee with no milk and a shovel-load of sugar. So, you know, you find your thing.

And then along comes Lutebulb, by Blueblut.

The blurb isn’t wrong in describing Blueblut’s lineup as ‘highly unusual, bringing together ‘three musicians acclaimed for exceptional contributions to their respective spheres in experimental jazz, electronica and rock.’ It’s a jazz-centred fusion, for sure, but it’s not jazz fusion as one tends to think of it, and certainly not as I’ve come to understand it. So what is it? As we learn, ‘Lutebulb is the fabulous culmination of ten years of intensive touring, with the Vienna based trio of Pamelia Stickney (theremin, vocals), Chris Janka (guitar, loops, samples) and Mark Holub (drums, vocals, percussion) socking it to global audiences with an international polystylistic musical language which takes in improv, jazz, avant-rock, ska, folk and Krautrock among other elements.’

There’s certainly a lot going on: initially, it comes on a bit laid back, not so much loungey as a smug muso pop collision of jazz and Latin dance, and I suppose the title, ‘Cocktail’ is something of a giveaway as to its swinging party vibes, but then shit happens – particularly some pretty crazy guitar work, and the percussion goes big and suddenly the party’s been crashed by a towering riot of sonic chaos, before suddenly, the entertainers seemingly remember themselves, pull their ties straight again and try to pull together some semblance of a funtime groove.

This sets the album’s template, really. Tracks tend to begin a bit kinda loose, a bit kinda boppable, a bit pool party fun times, albeit with some weirdness in the way the rhythms and the notes don’t quite chime in the conventional ways, and you wonder if it’s maybe the punch or the heat, but the tempo drifts a bit, first one way, then the other, and then maybe something doesn’t quite feel right, and it certainly doesn’t sound right and… what is going on? The room’s spinning and there are all sorts of random noises and you can’t tell if it’s people losing the plot or if some chickens have escaped and the sky’s falling in.

‘Aumba’ starts rather differently, a gentle piece led by acoustic guitar that brings a more reflective atmosphere, but it takes a hard swerve, the pace picks up, there are choral chanting vocals and then a handbrake turn into buoyant math-rock territory before some truly frantic fretwork. And because more surprises are needed, from nowhere, we get a crooning lyrical ballad in the last couple of minutes.

There’s unpredictable, and then there’s Lutebulb, which emerges with a fourteen-minute centrepiece of oddball experimental jazz that mashes absolutely everything together: one minute, I’m reminded of America’s ‘Horse With No Name’, the next, it’s Paul Simon’s Graceland and a Joolz Holland world music extravaganza. Then, somewhere in the midst of it all, we get the jazz breakdown with erratic percussion and space, dogs barking, and then, something else again. Led Zep riffage. Noise. More dogs barking. Every time I leave the house, the streets and parks and fields are like bloody Crufts, and the headfucking noise that’s emanating from my speakers – mostly a horrible conglomeration of barking and a strolling bass is making me angry and tense. And then the last piece, ‘Kaktusgetränk’, incorporates a familiar and popular jazz piece I can’t place or be bothered to research because by now I can’t decide if I need a lie-down or a massive gin.

With Lutebulb, Blueblut have created one of the most wildly varied – and in places, difficult, irritating, random – albums I’ve heard in a long time. I neither like nor dislike it: it has some truly great moments, and it has some not great moments. But when you throw this much into the blender, it’s to be expected, and I’d like to think that this kind of reaction isn’t entirely unexpected. The musicianship is outstanding, and their capacity to switch style, tempo, form, is something else, and the results are enough to leave anyone punchdrunk.

Blueblut – Lutebulb cover 1240px

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