Culture Revival

Alex Sheppard’s album ‘The Magician’s Assistant’ is a nascent album from a brave, young artist. Her kooky lyrics and guitar strumming are raw and unpolished, written quickly and not overly philosophical.

The brevity of the album – the entire album is only 30 minutes long – is a little disappointing. A longer album would have allowed Sheppard to really strut her stuff. Despite this shortcoming, the album nonetheless offers uplifting and untraditionally pretty tunes. Sheppard’s voice is sweet and her playful mix of simple guitar playing with crude lyrics makes this album a nice change to more commercially produced albums.

The opening song ‘Feels Real At The Time’ introduces us to Sheppard’s off-the-cuff lyrics and un-stylized guitar playing. She sings about past loves, present career decisions and drunken nights in the bars of London’s Soho.

Her lyrics, though, are bland at times. For example, she drably sings about “another shit night in the same shit bars with the same shit life.” This is disappointing, as with song titles such as ‘Strongbow In The Morning’, ‘The Princess & The Pill’ and the eponymous ‘The Magician’s Assistant’, it is surprising that her lyrics aren’t as colourful and unusual as the song titles.

The major strength of this album, however, lies in how un-produced it is. This album is quite removed from typical studio-produced albums. While, this makes the album hard get into at the beginning, the simplicity of the guitar playing coupled with her no-nonsense lyrics is a winning combination. Overall, ‘The Magician’s Assistant’ gives us a promising, young artist at the beginning of her career. Fingers crossed for a longer, more comprehensive album next time.

Seeing Sheppard perform live would definitely enhance the musical experience of these simple songs. Sheppard plays Oxjam Festival in Norwich on the 25th of October. Check out her myspace page for more up-to-date information on upcoming gigs. http://www.myspace.com/alexsheppard.

Rodina are a Leeds-based band built around the vocals of Aiofe Hearty, with a broadly jazzy, lounge kind of sound. Over the Sun is their first album and, to be honest, I’m unsure about it. Hearty’s voice is beautiful, certainly; but the songs don’t always quite work for me.

My doubts started with the first track, ‘Always Had a Dream’. It’s a laid-back number with a shuffling rhythm; but the lyrics, about facing up to adversity, seem to me to jar with that kind of backing. Happily, the rest of the album doesn’t have that problem; though there are a few other aspects of the music I’m not keen on – particularly a couple of extended codas that could do with some trimming. The saxophone at the end of ‘You Cry I Cry’ sorely tested my patience; and whilst the closing ‘Hold That Thought’ adds an interesting bluesy twist to Rodina’s sound, it’s rather spoiled when the trumpets take over towards the end.

Having said all that, I do think it was a good move to give most of the songs a slow tempo, because Hearty’s voice is well suited to that kind of song. The word that really springs to mind when I try to describe her vocal style is ‘languid’ – relaxed, but in a way that fills songs with space rather than seeming detached. The title track is a good example of this, as the vocals spread out amongst the airy music, creating an appropriately celestial mirror to the lyrics themed on outer space.

‘These Things You Do’ is another particularly striking track, where Rodina’s music is perhaps at its oddest, and Hearty’s singing takes on a more ethereal quality. The cover of the bossa nova standard ‘Corcovado’ is more conventional, but again the elements combine well, with delicate vocals over lush strings.

The thing is, though, that too many of the songs on Over the Sun aren’t really distinctive enough. Even after several listens, I find that much of the album just doesn’t stick in my mind; there’s a run of songs towards the end that just seem to blur into one. Still, as I said earlier – even when the music’s not at its best, the vocals make up for it.

Anyone who goes a big juicy one over vintage music technology will have the insuppressable urge to grin at the warmth of this musical tale.  Opening with the electromechanical sound of a Rhodes piano and recorded and mastered on sumptuously, hissy 2inch analogue tape, the plinky-plonk chords descend into a sizzly burst of drums and cymbals.  This sparse instrumentation is then complimented by bluesy crushed chords on a honky-tonk piano and a bass which isn’t so much walking, but cockney swaggering into the pub for a swift one.

After one more round (of musical bars that is, not London Pride), the track dips in dynamics to allow distinctly French vocalist, Emmanuel “Manu” Labescat, space to unfold the tale of our Rvd Tisley, his trials and tribulations, and of course, his Magic Lantern.  A fun tale with discrete musical niceties and a catchy, sing-along chorus, it’s easy to see why Lucky Elephant were praised as a summer must-hear band.

Taken from their debut album, Starsign Trampoline, the first single The Rvd Tisley and his Magic Lantern,  is uplifting, comical, light-hearted and full of timeless charm with contemporary ideas that noticeably escape the mixing pot of unidentifiable new artists in its bid for commercial survival.  Accompanied by two alternative versions of other tracks, comparable to Sigur Ros and Cinematic Orchestra, and a further remix by their label, Sunday Best Recordings, this single deserves your attention, so put that pint of Pride down and look sharp.

Like other I’m-Scottish-and-proud bands around at the moment, Glasvegas and Biffy Clyro to name a couple, Twin Atlantic also showcase their accents in their songs. In the case of their new single ‘You’re Turning Into John Wayne’ it is their strong Glaswegian accent that works to prove a point as they hit out at the overpowering nature of American culture, which now dictates the fashions and norms, including how other artists adopt fake American accents to be more mainstream. Isn’t it lucky they aren’t Brummie?

The heavy guitars that pack a punch when they kick in after the first couple of seconds, and a rather catchy chorus, it’s impossible not to at least have a little head-bob when you listen to the track. And, it’s true, the accent (which I love anyway) and gravelly vocals of Sam McTrusty does set it apart from the generic American pronunciation, even inviting the opportunity to try and copy it as you sing along…well, maybe that’s just me. But, apart from how they sing, there’s not an awful lot else about the track that works to set it apart from the other bands they are criticising. Now, if they had bagpipes that really would be different. And very Scottish.

If music was a race, I reckon that ‘folk’ is coming up pretty fast on the inside lane, and here’s a man that’s been holding the baton for some time now. After a five year wait, Canadian singer-songwriter Howie Beck is back with his fourth full-length album ‘How To Fall Down In Public’. The album has a relaxed, acoustic tone with upbeat tracks like ‘Watch Out for the Fuzz’ and ‘Flashover’, but unlike the consistently happy-go-lucky sound of, say, Jack Johnson, there is a darker edge lurking somewhere in the background which makes for much more interesting listening – I mean, who wants to be happy all the time anyway?! There is a hint of melancholy, which comes to the fore in tracks like ‘Over and Under’, and the beautiful instrumental ‘Fin’. This song, apart from the evocative composition, is all the more impressive when considering the fact that Beck plays all of the musical components himself, and has become so accomplished without any formal musical training. This makes him a one-man-band who is a far cry from Dick Van Dyke’s Bert in Mary Poppins, though not quite as funny. And without the crap cockney accent.

The album takes the listener on a journey through fun, sadness, and with haunting moments which are highlighted when his smooth husky vocals are aided by Sarah Harmer in ‘Fin’ and Feist in the very catchy ‘LaLaLa’. The songs are all very listenable on first hearing, but definitely grow on you the more ear-time they are given. ‘Don’t Put Your Arms Around Me’ is the first song to be released as a single, which is a great choice as it packs a little more punch with stronger drums and a faster beat to catch people’s attention, announcing Beck’s arrival back on the music scene.

All in all, it’s a great album, an understated pleasure. And with all the earthy, acoustic sounds it’s very good for repressing road-rage! What I’d be really interested to hear is what happens when Howie shifts up a gear from melancholy to just plain angry? I bet underneath all of that low-key despondency, he’s just itching to bash those drums like a bitch.

Boom – boom – thump – repeat – and slip in a churpy guitar, why not!  ‘No Smoke, No Mirrors’ is the second full length album since the debut release of ‘So This Is Great Britain?’ by Brit-rock humour-popsters, The Holloways.  Since 2006, the band have matured away from their punkier Young Ones personas and along with finding their trademark sound of up-beat, calypso-flavoured Peñate/Maccabees-style Brit-rock, they have found friends and fans abundant.  Honing from a town called London, lead singer Alfie Jackson bares an audibly cheeky-chappy resemblance to Arctic Monkeys frontman, Alex Turner.  Their music, however, is a much fuller and more melodic sound than their tundra-based primate brothers.   ‘AAA’ opens the album and after being introduced by the aforementioned booming, thumping and churping, a catchy synth and memorable chorus (“everybody wants / everbody wants / everybody wants / their piece of fame”) gives this track substance and longevity paving the way for the 10 remaining gems.

Featuring the single ‘Jukebox Sunshine’, this is a song as deliciously summery as it sounds.  Starting with the confident pulse of a kick-drum and plucked orchestral strings and followed by the re-occuring vocal hook that would drag a tuna for several happy miles, this song is capable of reigniting summer on every autumnal dance-floor.

The golden theme running throughout is the simplicity of the vocal melodies juxtaposed with the nostalgia of a far from ebbing youth and innocence.  Stories are captured, created, recounted and combined with catchy and thoughtful musicianship, proving that fashionable music need not be superficial.  As well as a palpable joyfulness running throughout this album, there’s a surreptitious comedy that tickles the listener on a subliminal level.  Listen out for a muffled and definitively northern “the meaning of life” towards the end of ‘Sinners ‘n’ Winners’ and try taking it seriously.

‘Listen’ shows the band’s openess to stir in a string ensemble and harmonise voices, giving them something of a vintage Goo Goo Dolls charm while maintaining their own fondness for ska-ish choppy guitars. ‘Little Jonny Went To Parliament’ is lyrical genius, particularly worth your attention is the borderline beat-poetry of the line beginning “and little Johnny’s got tears in his eyes / and his mum says…”.

‘Knock Me Down’ begins softly and, leaving a lingering taste as any self-respecting conclusion should, crescendos with almost as much grace as the Foo Fighter’s ‘New Way Home’ and closes with the dizzying merger of orchestral sounds and quavering feedback.  A strong highlight of this release along with its sunny first single.

‘No Smoke, No Mirrors’, doesn’t need to be adored by all to succeed in its apparent intentions.  It is a poignant but fun collection of formulaically simple and likeable songs; an intelligent but accessible brooding casserole pot of noticeable influences while retaining its individuality as a new release.  Simply a must hear to supplement these sentiments and to put your curious minds at rest.

Standing in the intimate venue of the Roundhouse in London, I found myself very unsure of what to expect from the performance I was waiting for. While I knew a lot of the music Bat For Lashes had released, I also knew that front woman, Natasha Khan, was somewhat eccentric in both dress-sense and musical style, so who knew what would go on during one of her gigs.

It turned out to be a fairly simple but very effective affair with great touches like fairy lights on the microphone stand, dramatic lighting, and a wind machine straight out of a shampoo advert! While setting different atmospheres compliments each song – lightning strikes for ‘Pearl’s Dream’ and eerie purple swirls for ‘What’s A Girl To Do?’ – the music, and particularly Natasha’s voice, are really all that’s needed. I suppose it wouldn’t really work teaming such a bohemian brand of what has been called ‘sci-fi folk’ and ‘cosmic indie rock’ with a ground-trembling sound system, confetti and the host of other delights big budget bands pour on their audiences.

There was a fairly even split between both albums ‘Fur and Gold’, released in 2006, and ‘Two Suns’, released in 2009, which shows it was not just about trying to boost sales of the new album, but playing songs that the long-standing fans know and love – always a good thing!

The best thing about the performance, apart from the flawless vocals that sounded so much better live than recorded, was the innate sense of fun both in the audience and the band itself. Natasha seemed completely down to earth, giving an embarrassed giggle at the audience’s excitement for her most well-known tracks like ‘Daniel’, but still being free enough to bound around the stage with a tambourine. She also delivered on the quirky dressing, wearing a skin-tight leotard and leggings crowned with an elaborate golden cape, pulling it off in a way that no mere mortal could. It’s no surprise that she has been likened to such idols as Bjork and Kate Bush.

All in all, it was a real gem of a performance, and I left with the feeling that seeing Bat For Lashes in such an intimate setting is soon going to be a very difficult feat. With a tour supporting Coldplay coming up, as well as two Mercury Prize nominations before she has even broken into the proper mainstream consciousness, it seems a popularity explosion is definitely on the cards. Let’s just hope that the band continues to just keep it about the music, as they do so well at the moment.

Bath’s Moles Club is regarded as the ‘stepping stone’ venue for bands climbing the musical ladder, The Smiths and Blur being two of the British giants that crash-tested early material on West Country audiences here. Mumford and Sons, having already grasped some of the notoriety available from the new quirk acoustic scene, were bound to play this cauldron of a club.

Due to Bath’s admirable transport system, I arrived an hour and a half late to the gig meaning I missed support slots from The Good Gods and Pete Roe, but was quickly informed by surrounding gig goers that they amply satisfied an eager audience.

Final support act Shoreline’s set was inspired experiment. ‘Daybreak’, sounding like the opening credits to some trendy art house flick, was a particular success. Their set continued with more filmic landscapes during which temporary audience member Marcus Mumford bobbed gleefully along to the music with girlfriend Laura Marling by his side.

Mumford and Sons took charge of the night with a string of upbeat hoe down tunes which livened up the enthusiastic but physically static crowd. Marcus Mumford retained the kind of relaxed charisma that seemed to spur the set on anytime he mumbled anything from that beautiful folky mouth of his. Tightly smashing their way through new single ‘Little Lion Man’, Mumford and Sons sustained a level of exhilaration for the rest of their performance that was admirable even whilst enduring small technical difficulty on stage.

Finishing their set to rapturous applause from songs such ‘Roll Away Your Stone’ and ‘White Blank Page’, the band came back on for the obvious encore that saw them laying out more crowd pleasing goodness. A good night for Mumford and Sons and a great night for Bath’s acoustic scene.

By guest writer Sam Taylor of Adelaide’s Cape

‘Silhouettes’ is good. Really good. Surprisingly good, in fact.  The first few bars being of the dance persuasion more than anything else, but the vocals soon lending a little more of a sped-up David Bowie edge to the song that pushes it in the right direction. Lyrically, the band can get a little clichéd (surely the line ‘we’ve got tonight’ has to be one of the most overused in music?) but their words are also passionate and sung in such a heartfelt way you couldn’t possibly think they didn’t mean what they’re saying.

The two men behind Marmaduke Duke, Biffy Clyro’s Simon Neil and JP Reid of Sucioperro, are not usually known for making music to dance to on a Saturday night, but their song, once remixed by Jacknife Lee, makes a pleasant change and all three approach the genre with new ears whilst definitely not seeming out of their depth.

Overall, ‘Silhouettes’ is a song everyone should try, if only once or twice. It will at least make your party that bit more hip.

Did you know that the world’s population can be split into two distinct categories? OK, so perhaps not all six-point-something-billion of us, but certainly between those of us professing to enjoy a bit of the ‘boom-boom, thwakka-thwakka’ (i.e. dance music). Present the words “Nathan” and “Fake”, in that order, to any fan of electronic music and you will be met by two strongly opposing reactions. The first: “Ummm…”, to which you reply, “Aww, bless you, I believe that Britain Still Lacks Talent has just come on the telly, so go and pop yourself down”. The second: “YES, he’s *insert individualised comment of abundant praise here*”, and the distinction is revealed.

Since the release of the Outhouse EP on Border Community in 2003, Fake’s name and acclaim has steadily risen to the domestic usage which it enjoys today. Actually, there’s very little that’s steady about it. Barely into his twenties, the tech-digesting star from Norfolk’s rolling pastures immediately started on the evolutionary incline of underground celebrity status from day one, and continues to receive joy-filled sweaty handshakes and admissions of adoration post set all over the world. If you are already familiar with his genius, then I urge you to keep reading, just to feel even better about this blessed planet of ours.  And equally, if all of this is sounding like some kind of novel and exciting revelation, then read on.

Midnight arrives and so does the punctual muso in question. With just thirty minutes to absorb his surroundings prior to his set in the empty upstairs at The Lab, his objectives are clear. However, the room slowly heaves in anticipation for what will be Bristol’s second visit from this international pioneer of genre-spanning progressive house. The resident DJ dips his interim measures and pushes his faders to the heavens, generating his trademark introductory sound-scape of white-noise. Without a beat or even a pulse, people at the front of what is by now a claustrophobic’s idea of hell start to sway and pulsate, with cheers erupting from throughout the room.

After teasing his obedient followers for long enough, sturdy beats, manipulated in real-time and anything but monotonous, answer all of their silent requests. A 60-minute mash-up of material, including an up-tempo re-working of “You Are Here” and visits to a fro’ the recently released mini-album, Hard Islands marches forth.  Crushing sound beneath sound and creating layers of heavy bass with discordant toy-piano-like loops,  Fake’s musical ideology bares the fruits of many hours spent discovering, listening to and dissecting literally hundreds of artists from technological and non-technological backgrounds.

This open-minded and considered approach to an almost infinite number of musical styles channels its way through his own composition and is delivered upon a submissive audience in the most unrelenting of ways. For a lone performer, a small collection of musical robots literally drowning in a sea of .WAV (pun intended) set out in front of him on a table built for someone of Borrower proportions, he unleashes a torrent of sounds and vibrations that reach and animate even the most lethargic of attendee.  While die-hard Fake followers enjoyed digital feedback and renovations of so-called toy-box motifs of 2006′s Drowning in a Sea of Love, fans of harder, edgier and pokier digital caffeine constructed shapes in the church of dance, as Hard Island‘s “Fentiger” and “Castles Rising” were inserted and pulled to pieces in a cooking pot of distortion and pitchshifting.

If you’ve seen Fake play before, you become accustomed to praise being discussed at all points in the room at decibel levels that could rival a concord.  There’s just something very infectious about his live sets to which even passive admirers of his recordings lose all inhibitions and pressures.  And if you like lasagne (a prequisite of appreciating layers ) and IDM, go and see Nathan Fake now.