Sweden’s Diamond Dogs are fantastic. I can’t put it in simpler terms than that, so don’t ask me to. However, by way of explanation, if you like your rock classic in vein (think Faces, Stones and The Kinks, filtered through Oasis but with the swagger and vibe of The Black Crowes and Hanoi Rocks) yet smattered with the sort of soulful inflections only Van Morrison or, slightly more obtusely, primetime Dexys Midnight Runners can provide, then this will be for you. There’s even a Smiths cover thrown in (a suitably world weary run-through of Please, Please, Please Let me Get What I Want); but that is merely the cherry on a cake that elsewhere features an absolutely riveting collection of heartfelt, hair-raising rock ‘n’ roll. The band have stripped down their sound considerably since the days when their more basic hard rock sound was juiced up with a bit of brass; there are large portions of TGATVS that would even appeal to fans of the likes of Mumford and Sons or Angus & Julia Stone, whilst When the Morning Comes to Get Me is the sort of country blues Keef used to peel off in the days when he could still pen a tune; its lazy, ragged swagger in the end merely providing the perfect vehicle for a marvellous sax solo and a compelling vocal from Sulo Karlsson, whose peerless singing takes this album from something merely excellent to the frankly astounding. A great album.
Cake - Showroom of Compassion [Upbeat Records] :
Welcome to one of the larger blips on the proverbial record radar for twenty eleven. It should have been welcomed with open arms; in fact, it almost presents itself like a cousin seven years estranged, bringing warm nostalgic gifts of tepidly intellectual dwellings with that ol’ bounce in their step. Like family, even the slightest changes are noticeable; in fact, even the healthy dollop of reverb is a welcome new accessory to their oft gravel-crunching pseudo funk rhythms. However, their strength is often in the understatement, which is admittedly hard to find in the first-run through. Or the second. Or the third. For loyalty’s sake though, it should be noted that cursory consumptions of Cake are rarely rewarded, as they have proven themselves time and time again.
Chronic Sprechgesang sufferer John McCrea almost shovels bucket-loads of wistful finality over the band’s idiosyncratic groundwork, dropping some ‘we’ve-totally-come-full-circle’ hints about his band’s development (Showroom of Compassion to Motorcade of Generosity is one example. We really don’t need NCIS for this. Or for anything, really.)
Despite defiantly declaring to survive in the yonder days, Cake only manages to emerge battered and bruised, with beats that inspire to nod-off rather than nod-to. I never thought it was possible to say this – but I think I’ve outgrown Cake. Now, normally Cake is sweet, but this one comes off a bit stale and half-baked. Cringe-worthy? Yes. Necessary? Well, truth be told: nah.
People be warned, the Daft Punk that we all know has not made this album. Rather, a new Daft Punk has been born, one that uses the natural and organic sounds of an 85-piece orchestra and crosses it with computers to make a soundtrack for a film that uses exactly the same ideas for its plot line. We are of course talking Tron Legacy, the Joseph Kosinski directed sequel to the late ‘80s original, a film in which humanity enters The Grid or to be more precise Jeff 'The Dude' Bridges and his son enter a computer. Sounds complicated, maybe it is, but it has nothing on its soundtrack.
From the overture onwards Daft Punk use all their know how, talent and symphony orchestra musicians at their disposal to create a soundtrack that even Phillip Glass could be jealous of. Although each track has been given a different title the entire record should, I believe, been seen as a whole (as you would a movie – without dissections); apart from the title track which is the only song that sounds like the Daft Punk that we have previously known, and my fav, The Grid with Jeff Bridges telling us about finding his way into the computer. As the music, texture and continuity are so well written one almost need not see the actual film, but you should, because it’s not bad, however I feel that its soundtrack will have a much longer life. All in all a great ride and a sure hilight of an amazing career.
The opening salvo of Duran Duran’s 13th studio album, all sliding and discordant synths sitting atop mild hip-hop beats didn’t give cause for hope. Even in their early ‘80s prime they were a patchy, extravagant dada-esque joke concocted by The Face magazine about fashion-obsessed over-consumption more than an actual band; seek out the bonkers clip for Rio if in doubt. By 1986 Phase I was all but over – the joke wore thin. 1991 brought unexpected success via Ordinary World, a syrupy MTV-ready hit. Soon enough Phase II was over. So here we are in 2011 and it seems Duran Duran might pull it off again. Don’t call it a comeback though; they’ve been slogging away for years. So getting back to those synths; wouldn’t you know it within a minute they soon give way to a glorious blast of what made Duran Duran so great in the first place – blinding synthpop. It’s the closest they have come to replicating Rio or Seven and the Ragged Tiger in years. Not bettering but getting close to that elusive vibe. Decadent, freewheeling and joyous. Maybe a looming 30th anniversary forced the band to refocus after a series of aimless releases. Maybe it’s Mark Ronson on production duties – he certainly seems attentive to the band’s legacy and is playful (The Man Whole Stole a Leopard is essentially The Chauffer in different skin) without being overly sycophantic. Or maybe they just decided to knuckle down and write some cracking tunes. Whatever it is – it works.
My Chemical Romance - Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys [Reprise] :
After firing drummer Bob Briar and disbanding their alter-ego band The Black Parade, nobody could have picked how wacky and confusing My Chemical Romance would become on their latest album, Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys. That’s not a backhanded compliment either. First single Na Na Na is chop-socky punk rocky at its finest. Despite vocalist Gerard Way’s assertions against another concept album after The Black Parade, Danger Days is thematically rich as MCR double as the cartoonish biker gang The Fabulous Killjoys, fighting against the evil, megalomaniacal corporation Better Living Industries (aptly named, BL/ind) for control of Battery City.
For an album that was touted as a “return to punk rock” for MCR, the album is a weird mutation of jittery road trip summer love pop plus meat and potatoes punk rock, such as the uncontrollable Party Poison and the Elvis Costello-esque banger Vampire Money. We’ve never heard MCR more melodic than now, as Gerard Way’s voice sounds stronger than ever on The Only Hope For Me Is You and the angular desert-garage RAWK of Save Yourself, I’ll Hold Them Back.
Summertime is the most beautiful pop moment on the record, however, it really could have done without pilfering 70% of its sonic elements from The Smashing Pumpkins’ 1979. However, Danger Days rises above its own imperfections as a strong album, and is sure to become a 2011 summer favourite.
There are few bands around with a reputation for possessing as much sheer rock grunt as Shihad. They’re so good that there’s an ongoing fight between Australia and New Zealand as to who can claim ownership of them, and this CD will only serve to feed this trans-Tasman rivalry. Ignite, the band’s eighth album, brings with it a change of label and a flirtation with self-production which has seen the band gain more ownership of the end sound. The final mix includes the influences on selected songs of Dave Sardy, whose impressive credits include Nine Inch Nails, Oasis and Slayer.
After 22 years and several albums, most bands who have stayed that incredible distance are sounding stale, their creative spark having faded or died. Not so with Shihad, who have the talent to still be fresh and exciting. They achieve this while staying true to their signature sound, combining great melodies, ruthless riffage and the awesome vocals of frontman Jon Toogood. The epic, six minute opening track is a cracker, beginning with low, slowly grinding guitars combined with emphatic sighs from the backing vocals. It then builds up to form overwhelming concussive waves of sound. In a collection full of goodies, Lead or Follow is a fine choice for the single. But my favourites are the opener The Final Year of the Universe, and Sleepeater and Cold Hear, both of which showcase great vocal arrangements.
ALBUM OF THE ISSUE Los Capitanes Rest For The Wicked [Sound System] :
Los Caps... that hardworking ska punk band that played every underage gig possible when we were 15, making us all swoon, skank, and snog in equal measure... I *fondly* remember you, Los Capitanes.
For their new album, the band have decided to wear all of their influences on their hoodie sleeves and put out a record that smashes from ska punk to hair metal to hip hop to reggae to pop emo to post hardcore to Harry Connic Jr style schmalz, all in the space of three songs. It’s enthralling. They are the Girl Talk of ska punk bands.
They’re potty-mouthed and sometimes write a few too many words than actually fit, but it doesn't matter as soon enough a doomy metal sequence will break out in some flamenco guitar and the singer will deride your friends for all listening to indie. This is the best experience I’ve had with an album in ages, and whilst I don’t love all of it, it’s more ambitious than Kanye West's latest, and so much more fun. I was expecting another Pokers inspired horn-blow (and would have been happily satisfied), and instead got a magnum opus.
