The best new albums this week
The top notch releases you need to know
ALBUM OF THE WEEK
Luke Vibert – Machine Funk (De:tuned)
The first coffee in the morning or first beer of an evening. Fish and chips by the seaside. The warmth and company of loved ones. The arrival of a new Luke Vibert album.
They’re all things that we take pretty much for granted – especially in recent times, when the Cornish crusader seems to have sped up his already prolific work rate rather than slowing with time. But without them, life would be a considerably less rich place to be held captive in. What stops the familiar breeding contempt in his case is the sheer variety of his output.
He’s a man of many, many talents – check his old skool jungle rinseout as Amen Andrews for Boiler Room recently, as skillfully slammed together as any veteran of the art. When Hypercolour decided to deliver three albums from him within the space of a few months back in 2021, he created themes for all three, knowing that restriction is, above all, the main aid to creativity. Ambient, hip-hop, acid, techno, trip hop, rave hop – the genre he created to play a trick on a Ketamine-addled acquaintance whose indulgence was convincing him he was hearing music more slowly than it really was – house, techno, acid, electro, d&b and jungle are all well within his grasp. And just as John Peel said of The Fall, the results are “always different, always the same”.
Indeed, while Vibert and many of his fans to boot, have long lost count of the number of tracks he’s put out since he debuted with the first Wagon Christ album Phat Lab Nightmare on Rising High in 1994, there are clearly audible parallels between that almost entirely beatless LP and this album, dedicated to the tiny silver marvel that is the Roland TB-303 Bass Line.
You can hear it, for instance, in the cute, high pitched melodies flitting, firefly-like, around the upper reaches of ‘Moderneers Modernize’, a joyous romp that starts and ends with skeletal drum machine clatter but packs in some roasting , vicious acid burnouts in between. The creeping, fluorescent synth sounds that underpin ‘Justiposition’ are another example, here going up a filtered acid line and some nicely blunted and carefully overdriven b-boy-esque drum patterns.
With the 303 specifically and acid/electro its boundaries, Vibert nevertheless wrings colour after colour out this narrow brief. The album’s title track bubbles and bounces its way along, friendly and playful, nestling up close to the hip-hoppier territory he occupies as Wagon Christ. ‘Budstep’ takes an ultra-crisp, dubstep-paced beat but rather than add the usual trimmings of the genre opts for crystal clear Kraftwerk-esque melodies and just a restrained, modicum of acid around its middle ground. ‘Hitler Skelter’ is irrepressibly cheeky and handclap slap happy, but despite its insistent bassline is still edged with the slightest hint of melancholy.
It’s oozing with dancefloor magnetism, but never dumbed down, which is, ultimately, something that could be said of everything here. Always the same, always different, yes – and always a treat for ears and feet alike.
BW
Not everyone can sit down at their machines and wrench out magic in the spur of the moment. Nicolas Chaix however has a fair wedge of experience under his belt, and as he returns with a new I:Cube album after a gap of more than 10 years, he demonstrates his skill for improvisation in no uncertain terms. Eye Cube is presented as an honest work with minimal editing – pieces captured in the moment with less thinking and more instinct. We’re told to not expect formalised structures and instead submit to the flow, and it’s not hard to do when the music is this strong.
There’s a certain gloom lingering over these pieces, where kosmische propulsion and moody synth patterns pass through noisy FX chains without clear destinations in mind. That’s not to say it’s lacking in fun, for even in the darker moments there is space for playful melody, but it’s certainly not manifested as an upbeat record. ‘Vantableu’ builds in cosmic intensity through its duration, the delays and decays bleeding into each other without spilling over into a muddy mess. Therein lies the deft touch of a seasoned pro, who can muster magic on the fly and let the music push to the edges.
From the beauteous ambient techno lullaby of ‘Gypsotheque 2’ to the haunted organ lilt of ‘Kaszio Plus 1’, each piece has its own story to tell. What those stories are is a secret for Chaix alone, but we’re privy to the feeling in a very unfiltered way. It’s also apparent how many tools are at his disposal, given the variety of synths which make an appearance on the record, and in his immediate approach he lets the character of each instrument ring out as his reliable bandmates, their idiosyncratic qualities guiding the evolution of the music as it leads his exploration of a feeling in real time.
OW
Gorillaz – Cracker Island (Parlophone)
You have to hand it to Gorillaz. 25 years since Damon Albarn and Jamie Hewlett launched their crossover pop/animation project, the band are still going extraordinarily strong: pushing musical boundaries, collaborating with creative luminaries from across the sonic spectrum, and crafting captivating songs in the process. It’s probably fair to say that their longevity seemed unlikely when they started. Not because of the quality of their music — they’ve been turning out hits since day one — but few would have thought the ‘virtual band’ concept had any serious legs. Eight studio albums later, and that they’re still managing to capture audiences’ attention is down to Albarn’s undoubted songwriting talent alongside a willingness to dispense with preconception.
The artists with whom they’ve collaborated amount to an improbable ensemble, coming, as they do, from wildly disparate musical backgrounds. Naturally, the animation element helps introduce their music to audiences who might otherwise be unaware, and their ability to hit hard via lavish live shows brilliantly completes the package. Staying true to their bold manifesto, ‘Cracker Island’ sees the group welcome a far-reaching blend of masterful creators from in and around the greater pop universe. Thundercat, Tame Impala, Stevie Knicks, Bad Bunny and Beck are among those ushered in, each contributing something unique to the typically polished Gorillaz aesthetic.
Singalong sensations abound on the delightfully jolly title track, with Thundercat shredding as only he can while Albarn’s familiar vocal tones glide over the groove. The r&b flow of ‘The Tired Influencer’ speak of our smartphone-obsessed times, while the pop/dance flex of ‘Tarantula’ provide some breezy, summertime vibrations. The inspired duet with Tame Impala on ‘New Gold’ feels like a match made in heaven as it makes a strong case for early favourite before Bad Bunny hops in with his distinctive reggaeton flex on ‘Tormenta’. The melancholic ballad of ‘Skinny Ape’ marks a shift in tone, setting the scene for Beck’s welcome arrival on the searingly emotive ‘Possession Island’. No doubt plenty more hidden treasures with reveal themselves with further listening, but even on the surface level, Cracker Island offers plenty of magical moments as its kaleidoscopic melodies unfold.
PC
Steve Mason – Brothers & Sisters (Domino)
Steve Mason’s fifth solo album and he gets better with each one. It’s unfathomable that more people don’t get excited by the former Beta Band frontman.
We’re three tracks in here and ‘No More’ kicks the legs from underneath you. It’s a real showstopper, a rousing anthem featuring Pakistani singer Javed Bashir, but where is that melody from? Is it Elbow’s ‘One Day Like This’? Cheeky. But that’s the joy of Steve Mason. He knows how to work a room.
Brothers & Sisters is a snapshot of the times we live in. Written against a backdrop of political turmoil, it’s a marriage of the personal and political and it’s stacked with warmth, spirituality even. The sheer power of the euphoric ‘All Over Again’ featuring British gospel singers Jayando Cole, Keshia Smith, Connie McCall and Adrian Blake is as good as anything Mason has done.
An inventive musician, I’ve always though Mason is a man who knows his dance music. What he does so skillfully is apply dancefloor licks to predominately acoustic music. And so it is with the Elbow borrow – a sample that’s not a sample. The woozey locked-down groove of ‘Let It Go’ feels almost trancey. The choppy housey chords of ‘The People Say’ is another anthem, a proper singalong, while the banghra beats and deep keyboard squelches of ‘Brixton Fish Fry’ are a treat. This is the sort of stuff that would set light to festivals given half the chance.
Don’t know if it’s just me, but there’s a hint of early Peter Gabriel here too. Never a bad thing. It’s especially strong on opener ‘Mars Man’, which comes on like ‘The Rhythm Of The Heat’ or ‘I Have The Touch’, something off ‘Security’ that’s for sure. You’d imagine Gabriel would love to sound like this these days.
Steve Mason really is a best-kept secret. Five albums in, it’s time to start doing some shouting.
NM
Zulu – A New Tomorrow (Flatspot)
Los Angeles based powerviolence outfit, Zulu, have slowly become one of the most talked about acts in today’s hardcore scene, thanks in no small part to the crushing power of their two EPs, Our Day Will Come, released in 2019, and the 2020 follow up, My People…Hold On. Combining blistering bursts of grind-inspired hardcore, juxtaposed with everything from samples of classic r&b and reggae cuts to momentous speeches from black history, there’s a sobering vitality and purpose to the band’s approach, elevated by their ferocious anti-racist lyrics and seething critiques of gentrification, police brutality and white privilege.
Their self-produced debut full-length, A New Tomorrow, builds upon the vision of their earlier work with a myriad of influences ranging from instrumental soul (‘Shine Eternally’) to jazz-inflected hip-hop (‘We’re More Than This’, featuring an impressive rap verse from guitarist Dez Yusuf). Make no mistake, this is still an exceptionally abrasive offering, with explosive tracks such as, ‘Our Day Is Now’, ‘Music To Driveby’ and ‘Lyfe Az A Shorty Shun B So Ruff’ tearing through blast beats, heaving breakdowns and dual vocal howls and shrieks from frontman/primary songwriter/all around mastermind Anaiah Lei and drummer Christine Cadette.
While the production may be sharper, and the genre fluidity greatly expanded, the most differential aspect of the LP comes from the more positive lyrical standpoint Lei takes here. While there are still unsettling depictions of violence like on the re-recorded ’52 Fatal Strikes’, which originally closed out their debut EP with a message squarely aimed at racist police officers; the power of love and celebration of black culture are consistently at the forefront. Even the interlude ‘Must I Only Share My Pain’ provides a sequel to ‘Blackcurrant’ from their second EP, with a spoken word poem highlighting the need to avoid falling victim to oppressive negativity.
From the scathing swipes at cultural appropriation on standout single, ‘Fakin’ Tha Funk (You Get Did)’, to the empowered declaration of communal unity and black prevalence on ‘Where I’m From’ (featuring guest vocals from Jordan Pierce of Soul Glo and Obioma Ugonna of PLAYYTIME; both hardcore acts made up predominately by people of colour), the band have crafted a tight, brief opus of hardcore powerviolence, while intersplicing enough samples and nuanced detours to also serve as a sonic homage to the impact black culture has had on music over the past half-century.
Emotional, cathartic, and meticulously crafted, this is a debut brimming with power and poise, while the emo-tinted outro of closer ‘Who Jah Bless No One Curse’ which bleeds into the chanting interpolation of Bob Marley’s ‘Small Axe’, complete with the refrain – “If you are the big tree, we are the small axe, ready to cut you down”, is an understated yet immense full stop on a project that yearns for dissection right beneath its instantaneous energy. As hardcore continues its ascent towards being one of the most vital forms of alternative music in the modern age, Zulu make an early case for breakout act of 2023, while instilling a message of awareness, love, acceptance, and aggression, all in equal measure.
ZB
Gracing the ITX Series – a sublabel of the much-rated Ilian Tape label, whose disparate intentions or vision is hard to know – comes MPU101, a slow-bubbling German producer whose efforts have already seen to two releases on the same outlet.
Usually reserving a strict eight- or nine-track structure, 101’s music normally veers towards the ambient side of things, while still successfully playing up the lo-fi-hi-fi sonic aesthetic of Ilia (wherever that is). This third instalment in his discography here amps up the haunt factor, straight away going for just the kind of midrange dream pads that would make Adam Curtis drool. Elements on each subsequent track are given room to breathe and evolve, but that’s not without them staying mired in an otherwise distinctive, crunchy glue, as if the music were being played off a remote Arctic scientist’s radio rather than a home system or pair of headphones.
Of the tracks with beats, we’ve got chilly trap, hip-hop and electro excursions in there (‘DEPRO’, ‘VMCPU810’, ‘WTFJH’), playing into the hands of the eclectic DJ, whose repertoire extends just as far to Boards Of Canada as it does to Bones or Corbin. Most impressive is the segue from the penultimate track into the closer ‘f-instrum’, the latter of which builds on the same surfing-on-sine-waves tones that made up the ambient bed of the former. This is an overall impressive release from the as yet nameless genre that endlessly obsesses with old computer gear, wrenching reams of emotion from the cold, hard world of vaporware.
JIJ
Pan American – In Daylight Dub (Foam On A Wave)
As reissue labels go, Foam On A Wave are clearly operating from the heart. Rather than a cynical exercise in Discogs hype and savvy market baiting, they’ve thus far revived a forgotten gem of indie-dance hybridism from Ultramarine, respectfully remastered a deeply dug piece of Hungarian post-punk innovation from János Másik and pulled together choice pieces from a pair of mid 90s albums by David Toop. Now they turn their attention to the work of Mark Nelson, otherwise known as Pan American.
Otherwise known as one of the driving forces behind post rock pioneers Labradford, Nelson has since created a cult body of work traversing realms of ambient dub and drone. Foam On A Wave have pulled together this release as a sort of love letter to particular favourites – four long-form pieces from three different EPs released around the turn of the millennium. The reference points the label mentions for these tracks is instructive – Jan Jelinek, Fennesz and Vladislav Delay are quickly called to mind in these patient, hypnotic meditations, but Nelson has his own approach which sets the Pan American sound apart.
The dub aspect of Pan American is subtle rather than brazen, whether in the looming sub line underneath sad-eyed opener ‘Renzo’ or the splashy drum reverbs of ‘Esso’. When so much dub-minded music leans in heavily on the genre’s tropes, Nelson has a light touch. More apparent is his ability to work with delicacy, bedding so much expression down into a murmuration from ‘Esso’s loungey chords to the ghostly pads hidden behind ‘Quarry A’. Seemingly threadbare music is in fact teeming with feeling and detail, but you’re more likely to feel it on a subliminal level than notice it front and centre.
Perhaps a die-hard Pan American fan would shrug at these past tracks being repackaged in such a way, but given the low-key quality of the project overall, it’s highly likely this could turn a whole swathe of new listeners onto some truly sublime abstractions from just outside the echo chamber.
OW
The instant impression of Wow is one of pure, unfiltered joy. Kate NV’s return to Rvng Intl is delightfully unhinged, playing around with purposeful tapestries of cartoony shapes and squiggles, and you might well struggle to keep a firm grip as she amuses herself and cavorts down brightly coloured paths of her own idiosyncratic design. When her vocal impressions start re-pitching in a manic form alongside funky MIDI slap bass on ‘oni (they)’ it’s not hard to discern some of Laurie Anderson’s quirky charm from the Mister Heartbreak LP, but any one reference point is only a micro edit away from being superseded by the next vibrant idea.
On ‘confessions at the dinner table’ there are some wonderful interjections from violin and brass sections which burst with the same effervescent energy as the synths and drum machines. In its pointedly wonky architecture you might well be reminded of Mr Bungle – music which turns on a dime from bar to bar and might well make you laugh out loud with the absurdity of it all. But this shouldn’t be read as goofiness for the sake of goofiness – the skill in rendering such vibrant, oddly angled music can’t be overstated, but more importantly the emotional drive behind the music is sincere. For all the madcap play, Wow feels like a considered attempt to inject irrepressible joy into the grey, daring to build a world of primary colour fantasy using head-spinning detail, gleaming production and elevated composition as tools for a healthy, delirious escapism.
OW
ALIEN D – D’s World (Budget Cuts)
Alien D (Dnaiel Creahan) is a longstanding face in the game, his efforts a defining fixture of the 2010s-20s New York dance music underground. Creahan’s solo releases stretch back to 2016, with the earliest known coming under their tape techno alias Stress, but earlier forays include the noise duo Mind Dynamics.
To jump around between styles is obviously an indicator of a versatile talent, and our suspicions are confirmed by ‘D’s World’, the fourth release under the D moniker. Guided by the pursuit of “amphibian” textures and the philosophy that “another world is possible”, they prove themselves adept at creating watery, early US breaks moods. Quite cleverly, our first listen successfully duped us into believing this was another Exist Dance reissue, a spate of which have been going on strong lately. A more attentive listen, however, reveals a contemporary set of influences under the veneer of ‘90s throwbackism, such as the unusually swung beat-plantage of Baltimore club.
Opener ‘Magnet Dance’ hears well-trodden, lo-fi kicks and swirling, acoustronic world rhythms back up a balearic mood, while the star feature of the A2 ‘Conga Dance’ is its generative, twinkly, bitcrushed main chord line. On the B-side come the nice bassless breaks of ‘Berger’s Breaks’, and the Baltimore backstreet piece ‘Release’, which contains a placative, sampled monologue on pain. Overall, this is one for those who like their breaks fishy, subaquatic and intelligent.
JIJ
Planet On A Chain – Boxed In (Revelation)
East Bay, California by way of Austin, Texas newfound hardcore bruisers, Planet On A Chain, are one of the latest signees to Revelation Records; home to seminal acts such as Gorilla Biscuits, Youth Of Today, and more modern genre staples like Drain.
A group of seasoned veterans in their own right, with members previously operating in Look Back and Laugh, Tear It Up, Talk Is Poison, Dead Nation and Mutilated Tongue, the snarling energy they bring to their debut full-length Boxed In exudes all of the traits of sharpened hardcore lifers. Following up their previous Deprogram compilation (which features re-recordings of the band’s two demos) with a blistering, brief statement of intent, this 11-track, 19-minute car crash is as absurdly furious as it is unpretentious.
From the breakneck pace set by opening curbstomper, ‘Bechtold’, the immediacy and frenetic urgency of the scene’s formative years comes to bile-spewing life with a succinct, modernised cohesion that’s ultimately expanded on cuts such as ‘The Keeper & The Kept’, ‘La Brea Tar Pits’, and, ‘Hum’; all of which carefully toy with crossover thrash tendencies whilst never jumping ship entirely.
With topical, anguished lyricism taking square aim at everything from the rampant opioid epidemic on ‘Corpses’, to the much-needed call out of tough guy toxic machismo within the hardcore community on closer ‘Target’, Boxed In serves as both a celebration of hardcore’s purpose and past while also cementing its increasing relevancy and legacy in the modern spectrum.
ZB
Jackie Mendoza – Galaxia de Emociones (ZZK Records)
A tale of two worlds, while geographically close each represents an autonomous culture, here combined by the deft talent and vision of an artist who has experienced the depth of both realities. In terms of debut albums, it’s an impressive feat to say the least, but one Jackie Mendoza realises with aplomb and — from what you can hear, at least — effortless ease.
Raised between Chula Vista – the second largest ‘city’ in the proper city of sunny San Diego, Southern California – and Tijuana, Mexico, the artist manages to swerve all assumptions as to what that dual upbringing might sound like. Instead, we have this stargazing collection of alternative pop that in various moments sounds like its cut from the cloth of surf rock, then Björk, then Latin-hued urban beats, then spiritual-leaning ambience.
Not just a nice record title, then, Galaxia de Emociones seems to draw in a galaxy of influences, pulling them together simply to listen to what they might sound like as one. Or at least side by side. The result is something special: a collection that is at once intimate and extroverted, born from a highly specialised and unique place, but — if there is justice — destined for mass consumption.
MH
This week’s reviewers: Neil Mason, Ben Willmott, Oliver Warwick, Jude Iago James, Patrizio Cavaliere, Martin Hewitt.