The best new albums this week
Albums on our must buy list this week
ALBUM OF THE WEEK
Yard Act – The Overload (Zen FC / Island)
Music is amazing isn’t it? There’s just so much of it. In the old days, you had to own a record to listen to it, or catch it on the radio. These days it’s laid bare, so bare it’s swinging its tackle in your face. What do you fancy listening to? Everything recorded, ever? You got it.
That bands continue to serve up original fodder in the face of that is pretty staggering. The stagger is made more staggery when you consider the basic tools have remained largely the same for centuries – a guitar type thing, some sort of piano, something to hit. So everyone is using the roughly the same kit and yet it’s not what you’ve got, it’s what you do with it that counts. And what Leeds four-piece Yard Act do with it is a showstopper.
The band grew from the core of vocalist James Smith and bass player Ryan Needham. Pub pals who became housemates, they found living together provided endless demo time. Augmented by Sam Shjipstone on guitar and Jay Russell on drums, Yard Act was born… and then three gigs in, Covid arrived. Not to be deterred, they set up their own label and this debut album arrives on the back of four singles – ‘The Trapper’s Pelts’, ‘Fixer Upper’, ‘Peanuts’ and ‘Dark Days’, released across 2020/21, each one increasing the fever pitch. And with good reason.
It was ‘Fixer Upper’, released last summer, that blew the doors off. It stares down the modern malaise in the shape of a rant by an opinionated knobend neighbour, Graham, who has just moved into the area. (“I’ve finally got a nice little drive to call my own / I got off street parking for the Rover / It’s a fixer upper though, yeah, no, not the Rover, the Rover’s golden” spits Smith, spoken word style against a funk-tight backing.
And here’s the thing. ‘Fixer Upper’ isn’t even on the album. Brilliantly, along with another single, ‘Dark Days’, they’ve left it off. “It sounds arrogant, but we felt we had enough good songs without ‘em,” says Smith. Got any canons? I’ve got some lads here with balls you could use to sink an armada.
So have they got good enough songs? Where to start?
‘The Overload’ is a series of vignettes about modern life in Boris’ Broken Britain. Packed full of satire and wit, we meet a cast of characters who laugh in the face of adversity – be it financial hardship, standing up to what you believe in or riling against the nine-to-five…but there’s more. It comes with a groove machine fuelled by a heady brew of influences – MTV hip hop meets 70s No Wave meets the acerbic likes of Arctic Monkeys. It’s a world where Jarvis, Mark E Smith and John Cooper Clarke are the same person.
The opening salvo of the title track (pub bore offers the band some advice – “You’d be better off kicking that dickhead singer you’ve got out of the band” – and sounding not unlike the discordant Fire Engines are their best), the taut, post-Brexit observations of ‘Dead Horse’ and ‘Payday’ (”The local council will be getting an earful believe me”) is one heck of a calling card.
The euphoric “take the money” chant of the chorus and the synth wig out as ‘Payday’ reaches its crescendo finds Yard Act in full riot mode. You’re going to be playing it again, and maybe again, before you’re ready to move on. And there’s still eight tracks to go. ‘Rich’ is a magnificent downtempo break in proceedings. “It appears I have become rich” spits Smith over a four-note bassline and sparse drum lick. They seemed obsessed with the 50p piece, it pops up all over the place. Do check out their videos if you haven’t already, so many 50ps!
The killers keep coming, the filler is nowhere in sight. It’s an album you’ll listen to twice in a row, because you have to. Closer ‘100% Endurance’ is glorious. It’s the most musical track on the whole record with its deep keys, strings and a groove so locked down it could be serving two life sentences. It’s Mike Skinner, double strength.
An early call perhaps, but are we peering down the barrel of an album of the year contender already? It’s certainly a very, very solid benchmark. And if we’re only in January, well, what a year of musical treats awaits.
NM
Serious Drinking – The Revolution Starts At Closing Time (Mad Butcher)
There was a road in Norwich, long since gone, called Argyle Street. It was nestled between the city’s red light district and the football ground on Carrow Road. The ramshackle Victorian terrace was squat central, home to a raft of artists, musicians and students. Among them Serious Drinking, one of the city’s premier 1980s exports along with The Higsons and The Farmers Boys.
First released in 1982, their debut album, reissued here, neatly covered off subjects nestled between the two poles of girls and football. Their best known track, ‘Love On The Terraces’, captured both in one song – “Her name was Sharon, she came from Cromer, with her sister, Karen, a little skinhead. She liked football, she liked snooker, she liked A Certain Ratio, she like The Monochrome Set.”
The album is well worth a revisit 40 years on. It serves up some high entrainment, the highlights of which include ‘Countdown To Bilko’ (a song about waiting for ‘The Phil Silvers Show’ coming on the telly) and the singalong ‘He’s A Really Good Bloke’ (about, well, a really good bloke). Curiously, there’s samples too. The breakneck ‘Bobby Moore Was Innocent’ asks the England legend what he believes in. What does he believe in? “I believe that ability, dedication and enthusiasm are the three main things necessary to become a good player”. Oh and those songs titles. ‘Son Of Angry Bastard’ takes some beat. Guess what it’s about?
Serious Drinking serve up classic John Peel territory provincial post punk. Indeed, they recorded four sessions for the great man, and wound up in his fabled Festive 50. In these days where aspiring musicians head to college to study how to be in a band, all they really needed was to live in a squat, on the dole, with like-minded souls. Serious Drinking are living proof.
NM
Anxious – Little Green House (Run For Cover)
When Conneticut based emo-revivalists Anxious first appeared on the scene after forming in 2016, the goal was simply to “play a few shows” according to vocalist Grady Allen.
With roots firmly planted in the hardcore DIY community; the raw emotion, energetic performances and grassroots aesthetic the band have exuded from the getgo led to a groundswell of hype and exposure.
Hand-picked to support emo-trap outlier Wicca Phase Springs Eternal on his extensive US headline tour, with only a couple of 7″ EPs and demos under their belt, was a telling sign of the growing impression they were making.
Ultimately, this led to signing to the same label as their tourmate, Run For Cover, who whilst continuing to diversify their roster with sonically disparate acts, still honour the early, angst-riddled emo, grunge and hardcore of old.
‘Little Green House’ is the precise type of debut a band signed to RFC would have dropped back around the label’s inception. 10 tracks, 30 minutes, and an utter abundance of mathy jangling riffs, jagged hooks, and a true sense of emotive, reflective, cautious optimism.
Cuts like the anthemic ‘In April’ or worrisome ‘Call From You’ balance the emosh leanings of Sunny Day Real Estate with a much more firey form of aggression like that of proto-pop-punk heroes Jawbreaker. That isn’t to say there isn’t nods to more current peers, with the grungy noodling of ‘Growing Up Song’ feeling purposefully indebted to the Floral Green era of Title Fight.
Even seasoned hardcore veteran, Pat Flynn (who fronts labelmate Fiddlehead) offers his hoarse croon to the somber divorce ode, ‘Let Me’, and it really couldn’t feel more like of a seal of approval/passing of torch to the young upstarts.
Anxious’ debut teems with passion and ideas, unpacking common motifs of growing up, growing apart from friends and growing into one’s future, with a matured acceptance far beyond their years. The lush dream-pop hues of closer ‘You When You’re Gone’ only further expand the firm dynamic grasp the group possess on their sound, while serving as a gentle indicator of what could be once they leave their little green house.
ZB
Teencanteen – This Is How It Starts: The Early Recordings (Last Night From Glasgow)
If you’re unfamiliar with Scottish indie-pop lot Teencanteen then get ready for some undeniable truths. Firstly, the all-girl troupe write sweet, melodic harmonies with apparent effortless ease. And, secondly, hidden beneath that instantly soothing instrumentation are often some rather poignant and uneasy statements about the human condition. And specifically realisations that relationships can and do fade despite all parties involved still being in love.
The result is a strange and jarring juxtaposition. On the one hand, there’s audible niceness smeared across this collection of early work from the band, and in generous spades at that. Nevertheless, anyone listening properly will understand this is something of a distraction from a lot of the lyrical messaging, which regularly focuses on acceptance that times and feelings can change, even if mutual respect and admiration remains alive and well. Everyone has a specific point in time when this becomes apparent, the one that got away because we let them go, positioning Teencanteen as masters of behavioural commentary and observational songwriting.
Musically, there’s a predisposition to three-part harmonies, propellant percussion, and classic chart-friendly arrangements, which has more than helped the outfit establish themselves as recurrent fixtures on taste-making radio shows like Mark Riley’s BBC 6 Music slot. But, what at face value seem like neatly packaged short stories are, on closer inspection, brief but hyper-emotional micro-dramas played out to the sound of innocent guitars and synth melodies. Deceptively complex, disarmingly simple, This Is How It Starts offers a great introduction to a project that has perhaps not secret, but subtle depths. Places where we can’t help but feel the heartstrings being pulled by a combination of evocative poetry and the lived, universal experience of separation, loss, and understanding gleaned from time spent reflecting on treasured things that were.
MH
Champyun Clouds – Branched Out (99:Wave)
Following its digital release late last year, the second album in 12 months from Nottingham duo – Bent’s Neil “Nail” Tolliday and his partner in crime, Asa Hudson – is a 21st century new wave belter and well worth the wait for its vinyl debut.
The modern comparisons might be abound (Beta Band, Beck, William Onyeabor etc), but it also trawls back to Godley And Creme, with a ‘Snack Attack’ flavour on ‘Bleak 04’, while there’s something of the Ian Dury about the party-starting euphoric groove of ‘Performance Entry’. Proceedings are all very Weatherall. ‘Branched Out; has that same sensibility, a knack for a tune and an ability to twist it into some very spacey indeed.
The songs are economical, three of the 13 tracks here break the three-minute mark. You wish there was more, and lo, while were weren’t looking, they’ve stuck out a new EP, ‘Hide Your Vitamin’, featuring an extended mix of ‘Bleak 04’ and four dubs of tracks from this and their debut self-titled album. It’s like they read my mind. Champyun, indeed.
NM
Joaquin ‘Joe’ Claussell – Raw Tones (Rekids)
There are few (if any) artists more intimately connected with the spiritually-inclined house movement than New York-based artist, Joaquin ‘Joe’ Claussell. With roots journeying into and beyond the NY musical underground since the early ’90s, Claussell’s affinity with affecting rhythm and soul is unparalleled. From working as a resident DJ at East Village record store Dance Tracks – which he would eventually own – he went on to launch labels Spiritual Life, Ibadan, and Sacred Rhythm.
His inspired production work and turntable prowess have earned him a reputation as one of house music’s true greats, and his sublime ‘Raw Tones’ album on Rekids is a testament to his profound musical vision. Segueing between grubby nocturnal grooves and his trademark soul-stirring voyages into percussion, the masterful album bursts with stellar moments. From the uneasy jolt of opener ‘Lock Down’ to the stripped Chicago throb of ‘Break Free’, there’s an unadulterated edge to the music throughout. Highlights include the x-rated heat of ‘You Mutha Fuka’ subsiding into the poignant piano refrains of ‘Way Back When’, the rousing percussive rhythms of ‘Air We Breathe’, and the tripped-out dancefloor urgency of ‘Its All In Your Mind Let It Out’. Finally, the delightfully titled ‘Hallucinations Ejaculations’ echoes with a Balearic haze, with drugged-up sweeps and distorted vocals combining for a blissful psychedelic meditation.
PC
Pearl & The Oysters – Flowerland (Tip Top )
Let’s face it — there’s very little chance a band would make an album called Flowerland without having psychedelic tendencies. Anyone expecting Pearl & The Oysters to be the next big thing in doom metal can well and truly consider themselves off the mark, then, with the third LP from Juliette Pearl Davis and Joachim Polack rooted in the tradition of Stereolab and similar outfits. Certainly no bad thing when they pull the style off with aplomb.
Opener ‘Soft Science’ makes no secret of the record’s overall direction, although the uninitiated might fall under a spell and believe this is the intro to a lounging disco funk record. Of course, there are plenty of danceable elements here, with ‘Bit Valley’ unveiled as the second song and starting out of the blocks at real pace, while ‘Wizzo’ has more than a few hints of ‘Aquarius/Let The Sunshine’ by The 5th Dimension. Overall, though, Flowerland is more about a lackadaisical trippiness rather than body movers, and it creates the perfect mood for those to exist, painting vivid pictures of kaleidoscope-coloured worlds waiting for us to explore. As timeless as any surrealist art you’ve seen or heard, a beguiling joy from the off.
MH
Apparition – Feel (Profound Lore)
Following on from their staggering ‘Granular Transformation’ EP released at the tail-end of 2020, California based technical doom-death act, Apparition, have made good on their potential with the spellbinding debut full-length, ‘Feel’.
Providing a unique amalgamation of brutalised, cascading tech-death, pushed into cavernous depths with minor semblances of melody and beauty buried deep beneath the murk, there’s no ignoring the control and vision dispelled and thoughtfully rationed throughout the half-hour runtime.
Beastly cuts such as the mammoth opener, ‘Unequilibrium’ or the subtle, hateful descent of ‘Nonlocality’ showcase a group relishing in their own sonic uncertainty. Make no mistake, this is a malevolent collection of material, but crafted with enough dynamic layering that the lush moments of delicate doom and melodious atmosphere feel so natural, intrinsic even to the shroud Apparition wish to cast.
Yet another phenomenal addition to the ever-expanding roster at Profound Lore Records, ‘Feel’ is the latest affirmation of the modern golden age of extreme metal the scene presently finds itself, and is surely indicative of another bright (dark?) future for a relatively new act, brimming with potent vision.
ZB
Bill Fay – Still Some Light: Part 1 (Dead Oceans)
“Up until 1998, when some people reissued my albums, as far as I was concerned, I was gone, deleted. No one was listening. But then I got the shock that people remembered my music. I was doing some gardening, and listening to some of my songs on cassette, and a part of me thought they were quite good. I thought, ‘Maybe somebody will hear them someday.’ That same evening, 14 years ago, I got a call from a music writer telling me that my two albums were being reissued. A shock is not gonna get much bigger than that.”
That’s what Bill Fay told Spin magazine in 2012, 42 years after the English singer-songwriter, and latter-day cult hero, first appeared on the release schedule. Suffice to say, the archives are filled with overlooked geniuses, with more added to the list daily in our age of instant and overwhelming amounts of everything. In this instance, though, it’s hard to think of names more deserving of being saved from the fate of obscurity — with few better examples of rousing folk, piano-led rock, and journeyman acoustic talent that we know of. File with Bob Dylan and Leonard Cohen. No, seriously.
MH
Portrayal Of Guilt – Christfucker (Run For Cover)
Like so many other artists unable to tour over the past year, Texas based blackened screamo trio Portrayal Of Guilt, utilised the abundance of extra time on their hands to craft a seething follow up to their acclaimed sophomore effort, ‘We Are Always Alone’.
A mere ten months removed from its predecessor, ‘Christfucker’, takes strides to differentiate itself, and highlight the sheer level of craft and merit in dropping not one, but two of the most potent extreme metal releases of 2021.
Sonically traversing through an abysmal scorched plain, made up of harsh noise, caustic black doom, and moments of thundering sludge, it’s fair to argue that this is their heaviest, most impenetrable yet cohesive offering to date.
Lyrically opting to somewhat stray away from the more introspective, despair riddled ponderings of previous releases, primary songwriter, Matt King, takes a horror movie approach on these cuts. ‘The Sixth Circle’ details occult sacrifice with shrill, unnerving intensity, while tracks like ‘Fall From Grace’ and ‘The Crucifixion’ blur the lines between suicidal ideation and blasphemous scolding.
Make no mistake, ‘Christfucker’ is so very far from an easy or even pleasant listen, but with the same regard one would approach a harrowing work of film or literature, its horror is meticulous, palpable, and powerful. An essential for some, one to avoid like the plague for others.
ZB
This week’s reviewers: Neil Mason, Patrizio Cavaliere, Zach Buggy, Martin Hewitt