Posts Tagged ‘Single Review’

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.

AA

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24th March 2024

Christopher Nosnibor

Ironically, it’ll take more time to upload this review of the latest single by lo-fi indie / alt act Argonaut than it will take to play it, let alone write about it.

For a band who really pushed themselves in 2023, releasing a track a month to evolve their ‘open ended’ album, Songs from the Black Hat, which wound up featuring thirteen tracks, and who may have been expected to ease the pace a bit while they took stock and began to assimilate the practicalities of a new lineup, they’ve really surpassed themselves so far this year.

The video is pretty slick in relative terms, but the song itself is a classic and quintessentially Argonaut lo-fi cut with big, thick, buzzing bass and guitar, and the dual vocals which really do define the band’s sound – Laura’s hyper-bubbly pop tones contrast with Nathan’s monotone drawl, and here they really do exploit the quiet/loud dynamic form over the course of an explosive and thrilling minute and a half. Yes, a minute and a half: sneeze and you’ll miss it. But in that time, they still pack in a strong, hooky chorus, and I’m assuming the song is a reference to It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia rather than the band, Fightmilk – and while they may never be as cool as the former, they’ve got a clear edge over the latter. So that makes them pretty cool, really.

AA

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Mandrone Records – 22nd March 2024

Christopher Nosnibor

According to their bio on Bandcamp, the London trio’s sound is ‘inspired by the punch and grit of 90s alternative rock and eerie creatures of the mind’. But equally, they draw on 70s heavy rock to conjure dark and moody music that’s heavily concentrated on the power of the riff. They’ve been going a while now, emerging with a single release way back in 2015 and launching their debut EP some three years later.

‘Dame Paz’ is their first new material since their debut album, Completely Fine, in 2021 and continues the style of cover art depicting states of anguish, panic, turmoil – which is in keeping with the musical content, and in particular the lyrics.

‘Dame Paz’ is a six-and-a-half minute exploration of psychological anguish, and a collision of heavy rock, goth, and grunge. The dark mood and looming-on-a-precipice tension of the verses – primarily bass and vocal – bring shades of Solar Race, but when things build in volume, so does the sense of drama and theatricality, and they go big, and properly epic, even scaling up to operatic metal at times.

On paper, you might be inclined to think they’re a bit Evanescence or something, but Aliceissleeping do way more, demonstrating an eye-popping ambition and approach to scale which fully embraces the prog aesthetic. It’s bold, beefy, dynamic.

Frustratingly, it’s only been released on Spotify at the moment, which is a bummer if, like me, you’re a Spotify refusenick, or if you’re a band wanting to get paid for your work.

Aliceissleeping - Dame Paz - Single Cover

Christopher Nosnibor

Their bio tells us that ‘Pythies is a witchy grunge band from Paris (France), created by Lise.L.’ it was late in 2022 that Lise began to evolve the concept for a new, all-female musical project, in the vein of (L7, 7 year bitch, Babes in Toyland, Hole), the twistr being that it would incorporate her taste for witchcraft. You’d think this was pretty niche, but proving the theory expounded in Warren Ellis’ novel Crooked Little Vein – a brilliant book by an author who’s since turned out to be just another white male shithead and therefore probably best sidestepped, although he’s at least disappeared from the public eye following his exposure – if it exists it’s on the Internet, and sure enough, withing a few months, Lise had joined forces with guitar player Thérèse La Garce and drummer Anna B. Void, and lo, Pythies was born.

Thank fuck for the internet and social media. They may be a cesspit of angry people shouting the worst insults and a truly horrible place at times, but let it be remembered it can often be a conduit for good.

‘Eclipse’ is proof positive.

It’s a strong, guitar-driven grunge-orientated song with a darkly seductive gothy tinge to it, calling to mind Gitane Demone era Christian Death.

Amidst images of cards and tarot and esoteric mysticism, there are more direct lines which are very much more of the flesh:

Something

Is swelling

My hands

Are sweating

The vocal delivery is simultaneously sultry and dangerous, hinting at desire but also darkness, as Lise delivers the hook of ‘IwantitIwantitIwantitIwantit….’

What is it she wants? Probably nothing you’ve got to offer, fuckface. The video abounds with lollipop sucking and lascivious woman-on-woman rubbing, boozing, and BDSM, which will no doubt get a lot of blokes in a lather, but make no mistake, this is about female power and self-possession – and it’s absolutely killer.

AA

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Pythies Artwork

15th March 2024

Christopher Nosnibor

Following the stop-gap single release of their remixed version of their debut, ‘Messy’, Eville are back and firing on all cylinders with their first new material of 2024. While it incorporates the defining elements which made their previous two single, ‘Messy’ and ‘Leech’ – namely hard-driving nu-metal guitar slabs juxtaposed with electronic drum ‘n’ bass, which combine to drive a ‘a huge pop chorus,’ ‘Monster’ represents a clear step up, and is, as the title suggests, a monster.

Having a specific goal can provide vital focus in the creative process, and this was central to the creation of ‘Monster’.

If Yard Act are striving to make hits, self-professed ‘brat-metal’ trio Eville are all about the Pits, as Eva (Guitar and vocals) explains the objective for ‘Monster’: ‘We are building on the success of our singles by keeping up the standard our fans expect. ‘Leech’ and ‘Messy’ have done us proud, but we are ready to move up a level with ‘Monster’, I wanted to write a feral tune that would be perfect to open up mosh pits.’

It may be old-school, the notion of making music that will hit live and by playing support slots and touring to build a fan-base, but unless you’ve got massive label backing and PR that can score bags of radio play, it’s the only way for an independent act to grow. And it seems to be working pretty well for Eville.

With its stuttering electronic beats and muted, twisted, heavily filtered synthesized sound at the beginning, we’re instantly reminded of The Prodigy and turn of the millennium Pitch Shifter. Being in the demographic where the arrival of ‘Firestarter’ proved to be an absolutely pivotal moment in music – where a rave act brought in hellish guitars and brutal aggression and went absolutely stratospheric – hearing ‘Monster’ evokes the excitement of that time. It was a seismic shift from grunge, and while grunge served to articulate angst, what followed was more aggressive, more nihilistic, more angry.

What goes around comes around, and it figures that a nu-metal revival would ultimately happen following a lengthy grunge renaissance – but more than that, the generation of new bands are coming of age in truly shit times. It stands to reason that they’re feeling angry and nihilistic. And after many missed out on key life experiences during the pandemic, they’re now finally finding the cathartic release of going mental at a gig. The moshpit is the perfect release.

And yes, ‘Monster’ delivers the potential for an all-out mosh-frenzy. And it’s also got huge alternative radio potential, too. The production is super-crisp, ultra-digital sounding, in the way that on their emergence, Garbage slapped us with a sound that was at once dirty and slick. There are some mammoth guitar chugs, and they’re big and chunky, but smoothed and polished. It may only be a fraction over three minutes long, but this is a massive tune.

24th February 2024

Christopher Nosnibor

A change is as good as a rest, so the saying goes. I don’t know if I’m entirely convinced, but as I seem incapable of resting – there’s always something to do, and if there’s nothing that needs doing in any given moment, there’s all the stuff I want to do but don’t have enough time for the majority of the time. The trouble is, oftentimes, when I do get a window, I find I’m unable to focus, and simply jump and jitter and remember that I need to put another load of laundry on or tidy something or other or add something to the shopping list, and before I know it, I’ve not even stopped for a second. It makes reading books and watching TV incredibly difficult. I’m by no means alone: the vast majority of people I speak to – admittedly, mostly by text as we all seem to be too busy to take time out to meet in person – all make the same complaint, that there simply isn’t enough time in the day, and when you’re stuck in a perpetual cyclone of life activity, it’s nigh on impossible to stop and to unwind. And then, of course, there’s not only physical rest, but mental rest, and it can often feel as if your brain is your enemy, or certainly not your friend.

They say of the song that it ‘reaches for a fleeting February feeling before it thaws and fades’, and the lyrics are brimming with briefly sketched but evocative visual lyrics

I open the window

Breathe in the morning air

But ideas are like sunlight

They’re everywhere

And yet, despite the theme of restlessness which runs through the song, the images themselves are soothing, as is the mellow musical accompaniment, which they describe as ‘Seven spiritual minutes of ethereal melody and synthesised drone for deep and peaceful nothingness.’ It’s certainly quite a change from their trademark fizzy punky poppy tunes or the guitar-orientated lo-fi post punk stylings, with the final three minutes simply being a long, slow-turning drone solo, which is calming indeed.

AA

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13th February 2024

Christopher Nosnibor

Another day, the organic evolution of another obscure splinter-genre or a genre cooked up by the music press, or, indeed a band themselves. Given the ever-expanding void in the space where the music press used to exist, that particular scenario is increasingly unlikely, meaning genre demarcations tend to now originate by word of mouth among fans, or from bands. And much as there’s a heavy cringe element to the way in which the music press historically created genres, from goth to shoegaze and Britpop, alongside a whole bunch which failed to ignite, like Romo and The New Wave of New Wave. Sometimes, trying to build a pigeonhole slips into the domain of trying too hard, and more often than not, genre labels simply serve as shortcuts which bypass the requirement to engage in meaningful dialogue as to what an act is actually doing, what they really sound like,

And so the arrival of ‘Long Divide’ by ‘Seattle-based ‘turbowave’ pioneers, Dual Analog serves as an educational piece. They pitch themselves as ‘combining New Wave and Heavy Metal into a brand new genre.’

There’s nothing wrong with ‘Long Divide’, but it doesn’t sound especially metal or new wave, carrying most of the trappings of 80s electropop – although image-wise, there’s a whole heap of 80s hair-rock influence going on, with bandanas and studs all in the mix. And hair. Lots and lots of hair.

‘Long Divide’ isn’t really the sound of bandanas and studs and hair, and is more Depeche Mode circa Songs of Faith and Devotion with some guitars played lowed but mixed low, meaning the synths dominate the sound. The vocals register in that same baritone region of Dave Gahan and a whole host of post punk / goth bands, but there’s something about the delivery – level, tone, pitch, I’m not sure – which hovers on the cusp of uncomfortable… but as the song progresses, it seems to slot together rather better. And then they whip out a big old guitar solo near the end and boom, you’ve got you hair rock fix.

Time was I’d have wrapped up a review with a pithy summation., but this feels increasingly forced and corny, and at the same time, presenting a verdict feels little different to casting oneself into the mould of a star-rating – it’s arbitrary and lazy in equal measure. As much as ascribing a genre is a short-cut, so is declaring an album a 7/10; it’s a box-ticking exercise that appeases the lowest common denominator. A hedge-betting 6 or 7 out of 10 is the coward’s way of saying you’re being polite and sitting on the fence. Whereas I’m ok with saying this is… ok, so-so, middling to me but likely to find a solid fanbase.

AA

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16th February 2024

Christopher Nosnibor

A good cover brings something different to a song. That doesn’t mean rendering it unrecognisable or necessitate complete irreverence, but a cover that’s so faithful to the original as to be a carbon copy is utterly redundant. Marilyn Manson’s cover of Soft Cell’s cover of ‘Tainted Love’ is a perfect example of a pointless cover. Johnny Cash’s cover of ‘Hurt’ and The Fall’s take on ‘Lost in Music’, on the other hand, are everything you could want from a cover. ‘Owning the song’, as they say on shit like X Factor and The Voice.

How could any artist bring anything new to either of these well-trodden and frankly threadbare standards? That Ever Elysian have actually succeeded is quite a feat, and a welcome and pleasant surprise. They pitch themselves as purveyors of ‘classic rock,’ ‘soft rock,’ and ‘soul rock’ which does them rather a disservice on the evidence of this inspired offering.

The blurred image which serves as the single’s artwork conveys the woozy, warped opening of their take on ‘Feeling Good’. It’s still got the essential jazzy vibe, but it’s twisted, messed: sultry is replaced with sedation, as if the room is spinning in a late-night nightmare. It’s the sound of ‘feeling good’ a few moments before you fall flat on your face and find you’re incapable of getting up, and you realise everything looks weird and you haven’t a clue who you are, let alone where. And then it takes wings with some big, bold strings, and finally, the flourish of a heroic guitar solo.

‘House of the Rising Sun’ again pairs it back, and slows it down, too, getting deep under the skin of this cautionary tale to render it with nightmarish qualities. This is one of those covers that gives one a moment’s pause to confirm it is in fact a cover, and when the penny drops as to how they’ve approached it… it’s a shiversome moment. Deep, dark guitar tones imbue the performance with a haunting, gothic quality, delivered with a dash of theatricality. The jazz flavour leans into tipsy post-rock and a slow burn that surges to something like the Amy Winehouse Bond theme that never was. It’s a daring rendition, but by absolutely no means disrespectful or irreverent: instead, these two interpretations draw out dark elements which lie at the heart of the originals and bring them to the fore. These are smart, considered, well-executed and exciting versions.

AA

Ever Elysian

Mortality Tables – 16th February 2024

Christopher Nosnibor

For myriad reasons, my head’s a shed of late, and I’ve been doing this for coming up for sixteen years now, cranking out reviews on a more or less daily basis, sometimes during certain spells up to five or six in a day and taking in three or four live shows in a week, on top of dayjob and, since 2011, parenting. So I can be forgiven for not remembering every artist I’ve covered, let alone the details. But somewhere along the way, on seeing this arrive in my inbox, I recall that I have written about Ergo Phizmiz. I have no idea what I wrote, or when, whether I dug it or not, what kind of music it was, but I did write. Ergo Phizmiz isn’t a name one forgets easily, after all.

And so it is that ‘The Tin Drummer has Collapsed’ is the sixth release in the second season of Mortality Tables’ ‘LIFEFILES’ series, a series of singles whereby ‘Recordings of places, people, objects, moments in time, environments and quotidian events are shared with a range of artists working with sound. Those artists are then free to respond to the recordings in any way they like, either through manipulation or composition.’

Seems I’ve got some catching up to so, since, ‘Season 01 of the LIFEFILES series commenced in March 2023 with contributions from Simon Fisher Turner, Veryan, Xqui, Rupert Lally, Andrew Spackman and Dave Clarkson,’ and ‘Season 02 commenced in September 2023 with contributions so far from Audio Obscura, Todeskino, boycalledcrow, Simon Fisher Turner, Maps and Ergo Phizmiz.’

The one thing about arriving at a late point in a series and not even in the first season of singles, over a TV series is that there’s no cause for consternation over the plot arc or who the characters are or their back-stories. A single is a single, and it should, by its nature, stand alone, free of the context of series or album, and ‘The Tin Drummer has Collapsed’ does.

As the accompanying notes inform us, ‘The following three source sounds were chosen at random:

1. Loud bass music played from a car at the Akeman Inn, Bucks (21.06.2021)

2. A rubber lid stretched across a ramekin (07.07.2022)

3. Seren playing an old acoustic guitar (01.11.2023)’

Phizmiz’s response is to hurl them all together at random, too. ‘The Tin Drummer has Collapsed’ begins with a roaring barrage of noise, the roaring thrum of an engine and what I understand to be ‘loud bass music’. On ‘The Tin Drummer has Collapsed’, Phizmiz doesn’t collage or overlap the source materials – which would likely have produced an utterly head-smashing cacophony – instead favouring a different kind of cut-up method, akin to the ‘drop-in’ method devised by Burroughs and Gysin, whereby the different segments are dropped in, ‘randomly’. The sources follow one another, and it’s a haphazard-sounding patchwork of unrelated sounds, although the rubber lid and acoustic guitar aren’t as different as one might anticipate.

‘The Tin Drummer has Collapsed’ is strange, and interesting, and as an experimental assemblage, it isn’t designed to be accessible or musical, or conform to any conventional expectations of a ‘single’. This is nothing more and nothing less than an artistic response to a set of parameters set as part of an experiment – and one that’s novel in its directness and simplicity.

AA

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16th February 2024

James Wells

US singer-songwriter Shannen Bamford trades in melodic rocky indie, and despite being a solo artist in name, delivers a full band sound. If the title brings connotations of anguish, agony, conflict, and distress, the song itself steps meekly in and looks at its shoes as it ponders what to confess.

With an acoustic guitar and Shannen’s easy, floating vocals to the fore, and with a picked guitar running through it, ‘Addicted’ is tuneful and accessible, as well as layered in its sound. While there’s no real musical resemblance, in terms of sound and production, I’m vaguely reminded of Natalie Imbruglia, but Bamford’s delivery is altogether more subdued and introspective, and perhaps less enunciated, more breathy. ‘I’m addicted to the pain’, she sings in this song of sadness and loss, on which the mood is more melancholy than anguish or agony.

Structurally, there’s no real separation between the verses and choruses, with the song instead favouring a cyclical repetition which rises and falls along with the vocal melody. It works, not least of all because of its sing-song nature, and her vocal delivery balances confidence with an intimate feel.

So far, so much ok but nothing particularly special, but half a minute from the end, it bursts into a big, big climax, where everything gets louder and the guitars overheat and suddenly, from nowhere, it’s a rush, and the preceding four and a half minutes of ‘nice’ proves to have been suspense while she was holding back.

I’m a sucker for a slow-burner, a climax, a crescendo, and find the fact that a large majority of listeners won’t give a song more than thirty seconds before skipping – because they’re missing out. The final thirty seconds of ‘Addicted’ are explosive and transform the entire song.

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(Clicking image launches song)