South London’s Shame head up our list of irresisitble LPs
Shame – Food For Worms (Dead Oceans)
When South London’s finest released Drunk Tank Pink at the beginning of 2021, the non-starter year of lifting and reinstating restrictions, the brakes would be constantly halted throughout the entire album cycle. Following up their acclaimed debut with a work deeply rooted in anxiety, alienation and lack of purpose, seemed a rather fitting soundtrack to such turbulent times, yet the inability to road test the new material in any full scale capacity would have lingering effects.
Figuring out which angle to best approach their latest endeavour proved trying with the group constantly second guessing themselves and kicking around the notion of the dreaded “writer’s block”. That was until their label, Dead Oceans, stepped in with an ultimatum: The band would return to their old watering hole (The Windmill in Brixton), to unveil newly written material for a select number of attendees…in just two weeks. The experiment proved a resounding success as the increased pressure and deadline forced the members to do away with notions of sonic cohesion, or whether those who praised their previous turn towards the dark would be left underwhelmed. Instead, they found themselves back in the simple mindset of crafting new songs for nothing more than the requirement of having enough to fill a set.
All of these surrounding factors are vital when unpacking the creative stride Shame have hit on LP3. From the ominous opening keys of, ‘Fingers Of Steel’, it becomes quickly evident that the fidgety post-punk of its predecessor has been streamlined into a more restrained dynamic. As the track slowly swells and frontman Charlie Steen introduces the proceedings with the singular self-jab – “You’re complaining a lot about the things that you’ve got”, a more mature headspace comes into view. If Drunk Tank Pink was the exorcism or catharsis that needed to happen, then the ten cuts that make up Food For Worms are the resulting odes to making it out of the fire intact.
Just as a pattern begins to form, the absurd overkill psychedelic riffage of, ‘Six-Pack’, removes any signposts with its Hendrix indebted squall, while Steen’s trademark eccentricities are left utterly untethered. Yes, they may detest the vague post-punk label, or wince at the thought of being stereotypically compared to The Smiths, but it’s almost impossible to ignore the influence that seeps from the jangling menace of ‘Yankees’, with its spoken word poetic verses giving way to an anthemic hook so fuzzy and emotive, even Morrissey might claim it as his own.
‘Alibis’ toes the closest line to the despondent tone of their last record, but with a frenetic dance-punk twist, whereas ‘Aderall’ serves as both the midpoint and standout track; a nineties grunge tinted ballad, complete with lackadaisical gang vocals teeming with brotherly camaraderie, while Steen’s sobering declaration to an absentee friend lost to the throes of addiction – “Your parents really miss you”, is as universally relatable as it is deeply crushing.
Things take a noticeably darker turn in the second leg with, ‘The Fall Of Paul’, and the sardonic, ‘Different Person’, which echoes the lengthy no wave dirges from DTP such as ‘Snow Day’, and ‘Station Wagon’, but with a trade-off of nihilism for more increased cynicism, which sums up the project’s attitude adjustment rather succinctly.
While not a total departure or rebirth, Food For Worms is the sound of a band getting out of their own way, and allowing the material to be the guide. Working with renowned producer, Mark ‘Flood’ Ellis, who helped to execute an entirely live recording process; the resulting cacophony manages to feel joyful, sarcastic, elated, weary and acceptant, packaged within subtle sonic restraint, yet delivered with fluid musicianship. By rediscovering their initial adoration for the joy of craft and performance, while approaching their work with newfound maturity and a seasoned worldview, Luton’s finest finally sound like themselves, and make no apologies for it.
ZB
Gruff Rhys – The Almond And The Seahorse – Original Motion Picture Soundtrack (Rough Trade)
The tug of Super Furry Animals remains strong nearly a decade and a half after the release of ‘Dark Days/Light Years’, their ninth and final studio album. Being in a band like that buys you a lot of goodwill. A lot. Not that the quality of Gruff Rhys’ output as a solo artist requires much goodwill to be taken into account. Since ‘Yr Atal Genhedlaeth’, his 2005 solo debut, he’s proved as much of a treasure as his former band, which is no mean feat.
This isn’t his first swing at a film soundtrack. He scored 2014’s ‘Set Fire To The Stars’ about Dylan Thomas, and ‘American Interior’ in the same year consisted of a film, album, book and, erm, phone app so he has form and it shows.
Starring Rebel Wilson and Charlotte Gainsbourg, ‘The Almond And The Seahorse’ follows the lives of two couples dealing with anterograde amnesia, a traumatic brain injury that inhibits the ability to create new memories. The OST is a whopper, clocking in at 22 tracks across four sides of vinyl where original songs come interspersed with the instrumental score.
The haunting melody of ‘Amen’ was written before Gruff was even engaged on the project. “The yearning and frustration of the song seemed to fit the themes of the film perfectly,” he offers. The track forms a recurring motif throughout the film and reappears in several guises throughout the soundtrack – as a waltz, with strings, staccato, and on ‘Love Love Love’ – with the film being set in Merseyside – a tribute to The Beatles featuring a Mellotron, ‘Strawberry Fields’ style.
‘Layer Upon Layer’, a breezy three-minute power pop blast that plays under the film’s opening sequence, is straight out of the SFA songbook and wouldn’t have be out of place on ‘Radiator’. ‘The Brain And The Body’, which samples Wilson’s dialogue is especially striking as it explains the condition at the heart of the drama. The closing trio of tracks, ‘Ffenestr’, ‘Penbedw’ and ‘Arogldarth’, make up a 20-minute suite of cracking synth-fuelled instrumentals on their own – the eight-minute ebb and flow of the latter is especially good.
As all good soundtracks should be, ‘The Almond And The Seahorse’ feels like a proper journey. And a rewarding listen. But then this is Gruff Rhys, what’s not to like.
NM
No Pressure – No Pressure (Triple B)
Hardcore adjacent pop-punk supergroup, No Pressure, started life as little more than an outlet for guitarist Pat Kennedy (Light Years), and drummer Harry Corrigan (Regulate), to craft material that reminded them of their youth, with bands such as Blink-182, Millencollin and Lifetime serving as vital inspiration.
When time came to search for a vocalist, they found a like-minded ideology in The Story So Far frontman, Parker Cannon, who had become increasingly disillusioned with his own group’s expanded platform and frequenting of bigger venues; pining for the sweaty, cluttered club experience that birthed his original path.
With the agreed attitude of “no pressure” which become the moniker for the project as well as their exceptional self-titled EP, a groundswell of support grew from fans of all members’ surrounding outfits, who clearly yearned for the energetic, sugar coated bombast of classic pop-punk; a scene diluted by its own mass exposure thanks in no small part to bandwagon hoppers such as Machine Gun Kelly.
In the span of less than two years, what started as barely a side-project has ballooned into a constantly touring juggernaut, embraced by the hardcore community for its malleability with regards to how the most aggressive aspects of the genre can be repurposed for the catchiest of means.
Last year’s debut full-length makes good on all of their initial promise with a tight ten track affair, clocking in at just under twenty-three minutes. Crisp and clear whilst evading the dreaded over-produced sheen, the band manage to distil the ferocity of hardcore, the vulnerability of emo and the instantaneous hooks of pop-punk into a potent formula which feels both fresh and nostalgic.
Rapid fire drumming, two-step grooves and twinkling, fuzzed out riffs bounce around Cannon’s deeply personal ruminations on failed relationships, bitterness between old friends, and the passing of his father. From the heartfelt sincerity of, ‘Hand In Hand’, to the sardonic pissed off, ‘Big Man’, all the way to the Blink-182 indebted standout, ‘Both Sides’, (with a bass tone lifted right out of the Enema Of The State playbook), No Pressure prove that they’re far more than the sum of their parts with an expertly crafted, precise, endearing, endlessly playful yet cathartic batch of anthems, destined to become genre classics in the near future.
ZB
Philip Selway – Strange Things (Bella Union)
The third long-form odyssey from Philip Selway packs serious names on the credits. Laura Moody, Hannah Peel, Adrian Utley, Quinta, and Valentina Magaletti have all contributed their talent to Strange Things, a record of undulating beauty and epic scope.
Regardless of what you think that should sound like, though, for the main man behind it this was always going to be an album imagined as Carole King collaborating with BBC Radiophonic Workshop co-founder and UK electronica pioneer Daphne Blake Oram. Selway, apparently, is invited to have a go on the drums.
So far as visions go, that’s pretty specific, and may not be exactly the main thing on your mind here. Instead, from opener ‘Little Things’ through to the tender yet gradually rousing closing number, ‘There’ll Be Better Days’, the first impression is consistently one of incredible lyrical and musical depth. A masterclass not just in songwriting, but arrangement, which, although patient to a T, sits in an end of aural grandeur that’s somehow powerful but soft.
Big and often pretty complex designs somehow presented in stunning tracks small enough to keep in your breast pocket — close to your heart as possible. From subdued twinkling keys gradually bursting into string overture on ‘What Keeps You Awake At Night’, to the garage-pop of ‘Picking Up Pieces’, a track that feels lo-fi and yet is as layered and rich as they come, Selway once again proves himself to be a master at gauging balance, realising incredibly bold ideas in ways that turn relatively leftfield, unconventional tunes into things you could easily imagine hearing on mainstream radio or TV segments. Whether he wants either of those is another question entirely. The point being, Strange Things evokes a sorely missed time, when popular music was as sophisticated as it was daring, complicated, and artistic.
MH
Descendents – Milo Goes To College (New Alliance)
In the late seventies/early eighties, the punk scene was surrounded on all sides by leather jacket sporting mohawks with a predilection towards hard drugs and violence. Deep in Manhattan Beach, California though, was a group of young, nerdy friends who saw through all of the posturing and realised that the punk ethos was for the true outcasts, not the trend-followers who were drawn to the allure of apparent debauchery.
Before drummer Bill Stevenson would embark on his touring tenure with Black Flag, and before frontman Milo Auckerman would depart for college to study biology, Descendents released their iconic debut full-length in 1982, aptly titled, ‘Milo Goes To College’. At twenty-one minutes in length, with fifteen tracks often barely scraping over the two or even one minute mark, many cite the project as the true birth of pop-punk.
Imbuing the frenzied energy and brevity of hardcore with ear worm hooks, and a lyrical stance tackling far more adolescent suburban issues such as clashing with parents, being overworked, and (of course) unrequited love; the album proved that punk didn’t have to be about taking on the world while being off your face and never showering. It could be a means for youthful angst and aggression to be exorcised with positive reinforcement and executed with a nod and a smile.
The utter disdain and wit that seeps through, ‘I’m Not A Loser’, the complete dissection of all that’s wrong with the punk scene on the clustered, ‘Tonyage’, or the carefree humour of, ‘Catalina’, or the questionable, ‘Kabuki Girl’, are offset with moments of earnest, lovelorn, teenage passion on the standout legacy cut, ‘Hope’, or the tragic closer, ‘Jean Is Dead.’
With a bass guitar tone blueprint unaltered more than four decades on, and an attitude bordering on incel, snot-nosed angst with morsels of true enlightenment scattered throughout, 1982 will always be remembered as the year Descendents reared their geeky head and changed the trajectory (or rather charted the course) of pop-punk forever.
ZB
En Attendant Ana – Principia (Trouble In Mind)
Apparently built from confusion and dismay at the world we live in today, Principia effortlessly bucks the trend for outrage at The State of All This Shit by simultaneously calling out some of the biggest social ills of our age — not least the obsession with individualism at any expense, despite nobody actually knowing who they really are, and the isolation and pain this results in — while romancing us with these sexy and sophisticated songs. Quite the achievement when you think about it.
That said, we expected nothing less from En Attendant Ana. The band are from Paris, a place that seems incapable of giving birth to anyone or anything lacking in seduction skills. And when it comes to music, that trait is on another level. Instrumentally, things are wonderfully, captivatingly tight, paying homage to the structures and discipline of classic garage rock with audible touches of golden era roll, and shades of Gallic artistry. All wrapped around the more-than-perfect voice of lead singer and principal songwriter Margaux Bouchaudon — a talent we have surely all dreamed about watching on stage in the one of the French capital’s abundant late night live music dives — it’s familiar stuff, but difficult to find fault.
MH
No Spill Blood – Eye Of Night (Svart)
Irish self-proclaimed “synth-heft” trio, No Spill Blood, have finally made their epic return following a near decade absence since the release of 2015’s hypnotising debut Heavy Electricity.
A supergroup of sorts with their members teeth already firmly chipped and cut in seminal acts such as Elk, Hands Up Who Wants To Die, and The Magic Pockets, the band first rose to prominence with their immense Street Meat EP in 2013, while their place on the ever-expanding roster of Sargent House seemed to dissolve once original drummer, Lar Kaye (Adebisi Shank, All Tvvins) would make his departure.
Finding a new, apt label-home on Svart appears to have been the ideal partnership once delving into the cosmic nightmare that is Eye Of Night. Leaning further into their doom-metal angles than ever before, the neon-strewn hellscapes conjure an atmosphere as bestial and Lovecraftian as they are cavernous.
From the squelching, acidic synths of the cryptic intro track, ‘Cradle Scythe’, it feels abundantly clear that this is the work No Spill Blood have always strived towards. Be it the Cliff Martinez Drive soundtrack on peyote energy of ‘Unguem’, or the Mastodon scoring an 80’s arcade game electro fury of the title-track, the trio’s synth/bass cluster bombs make for a lysergic fusion of visceral rage, hallucinogenic electronics and devastating brutality.
Devoid of any use of guitars, this is arguably the heaviest project of 2023 (easily thus far) to eschew the instrument entirely in search of bombastic heft redefined and reimagined through distorted, fuzzed out bass tones and Tangerine Dream level synth lines. Furious, heavy, and trudging, yet performed with a calculated sense of eccentric, euphoric whimsy; No Spill Blood make their boldest claim yet on this long overdue sophomore effort, elevating and honing everything about the trio’s unique dynamic to an incomparable height of cacophonous bedlam.
ZB
Miss Grit – Follow the Cyborg (Mute)
Margaret Sohn chose the name of their debut full length well. Identity is perhaps more important to this artist than many, or less relevant, it’s hard to tell. Non-binary, and mixed heritage (Korean-American), whether they consider conversations around gender and ethnicity as distractions, or have made purposeful decisions to engage with those discussions, isn’t clear.
Either way, Follow The Cyborg conjures images of characters free from the weight of such human-made constructs, paving a way to a future that may or may not include us. It depends on how quickly we can stop fighting over those constructs and focus on challenges that must be overcome.
In many ways, Miss Grit’s inaugural long player sounds like that. Straddling tones that include garage rock, dark, mutated pop, synth, late-night soft-kissed keys, lo-fi electronica, it’s not that the artist, and record, don’t know what they want to be, but more a bold statement that we can actually be whatever we choose, all at once, now and forever. In this instance, that’s a cyborg — with the songs here attempting to tell the story and convey the experiences of a cybernetic organism — but anyone not reading multiple layers into that probably needs to listen closer.
MH
This week’s reviewers: Zach Buggy, Martin Hewitt, Neil Mason.
Our writers choose their top releases of the week
SINGLE OF THE WEEK
Dez Andres – Back In My Space EP (Beretta Music)
Detroit’s Beretta Music present yet more impeccable deep house moves on their latest release, this time turning to the one they call Andres to supply a distinct set of soul-infused grooves.
The label, run by Brian Kage and Ryan ‘Ryski’ Sadoras, is quickly building an intriguing catalogue after an extended hiatus, with last year marking a return to release action after almost two decades in the wilderness. While they’ve welcomed a few greats into a roster that’s largely populated by the co-founder’s own work, ‘Back In My Space’ is arguably a benchmark moment for the brand, with Andres among the most celebrated acts welcomed into the fold. Humberto ‘Andres’ Hernandez has been enjoying a deserved and extended spell in the relative limelight over the past decade, having burst out of the shadows with his phenomenally successful ‘New For You’ back in 2012.
He’d been around for a good many years before breaking through, of course, producing work for Moodymann’s Mahogani and KDJ from as far back as the late ‘90s. With a stylistically limber aesthetic that owes as much to hip hop and funk-soul heritage as four/four club rhythms, he routinely delivers seductive soundscapes that brim with organic mystique. The title track here is a case in point, with sample-heavy harmonics gliding over languid house drums and thick bass licks. Soulful, gently funky and entirely hypnotic, it’s a fine opener to an alluring EP.
Raising the energy with a jagged Latin rhythm, the sing-along vocals and atmospheric string samples of ‘Don’t Be Fooled’ provide an intoxicating contrast to the rugged kick and loosely-looped production that power the arrangement. On the flip, the rough and ready approach is leaned into further courtesy of in-house production outfit Airport Society, with gorgeously lumpy drums driving through hallucinatory sweeps and searing soul leads on their revision of ‘Back In My Space’. Finally, the evocative meanderings of ‘Back To Nature’ return to the heads-down flex Dez does so very well, with poignant harmonies and sliced vocals drifting over stoner beats and speaker-shaking bass.
PC
Calibre – Cinamin (Mystic Arts)
Calibre has made some seriously impressive moves into deep house and techno territory in recent years, and ‘Cinamin’ extends his expedition beyond the liquid drum and bass realms in which the bulk of his work is positioned. The man behind the music, Dominick Martin, has been making waves in the d’n’b community for decades, most commonly releasing via his own Signature Records imprint while frequently gracing the rosters of the scene’s most esteemed labels. His music has landed on V Recordings, Soul:R, and Creative Source among many others, and though he’s taken dalliances into UK Garage, ambient and beyond, it’s unquestionably rolling rhythms and heavy bass for which he’s best known.
His latest release arrives via the freshly launched Belfast label, Mystic Arts, and though approximately rooted in a hazy deep house aesthetic, there’s a refreshing ambiguity to the sonic textures presented. True to form, the production on both cuts is exemplary, starting with the fluid melodies of the title track. Muted chords drive the rhythm as delicate synth lines meander and entwine, sparse drums keep the tempo and powerful subs add endless depth. Evocative and ethereal, the mood is well and truly set as we ready ourselves for the b-side manoeuvres. A touch more poignant (despite the carnival spirit that its name suggests), ‘Samba’ dwells somewhere in the twilight, with brooding harmonics and melancholy sweeps evolving over crisp drums as dramatic chords cut to the very core. This is intriguing work from Calibre, an artist who appears to be revelling in sonic experimentation after 20-plus years deep in the game. On top of this, ‘Cinamin’ lays down a sturdy statement of intent from Mystic Arts, and it will be fascinating to hear what’s next to arrive from the freshly birthed label.
PC
Nick León & DJ Python – Esplit EP (Worldwide Unlimited)
It’s interesting how the touted blow up of reggaeton and Latin club music in global techno has manifested. Rather than one consolidated sound over-mined by imitators, its tended to be picked up in fragmented places by artists with imaginative ways to incorporate the rhythms and motifs into their own influences and approaches. Presenting something of an authoritative angle for that phenomenon comes this split release from Nick León and DJ Python. The former is a Florida-rooted producer who has risen to prominence linking up with Mexico’s NAAFI label and producing for Rosalía, while the latter has transcended the trappings of NYC-centric deep techno to offer an angular, zesty kind of club music for the likes of Incienso and Dekmantel.
The split record here is a no-nonsense affair which offers up two productions each, leading in with León on the A side. There’s a mechanical paranoia coursing through ‘Nerves’ which is instantly addictive, packed full of needling, modulated synth strikes and all riding the deftest of dembow beats with some eerie pad work shaping out the middle distance. ‘Love Potion’ is a deeper affair thanks to the warm tone of the bassline, capturing a sundown terrace kind of atmosphere made magic by the kink of the drums.
Python opens up the flip with ‘i’m tired’, one of his most low-down nasty beats to date, flicking hyphy synth shrieks into the mix between glassy drops and a trap-adjacent rhythm section. It’s minimal in its demeanour despite the detail etched into the groove, leaving enough space in the mix for the DJ to have some fun. ‘uwu’ is a whole other beast, favouring a weightless pad approach with scant low end and interesting formations of percussive modulation bubbling away on top. It’s angled as an oddball experiment but holds true to a rhythmic focus which could make for an artful breather in the midst of a set.
OW
Transmitting from the mysterious depths of the Swedish techno underground comes a new missive from PST. Through his prior releases as Porn Sword Tobacco Henrik Jonsson has moved through elegant electronica into a space where machine-powered rhythm mantras have held sway, at some point condensing his name down to an acronym and focusing his output in kind. It’s a subtle and reliably elegant approach that keeps rawness at the forefront of the mix without falling into pitfalls of distortion instead of ideas.
Returning to Kontra Musik, surely one of the finest of Sweden’s respected outliers in the techno domain, Jonsson offers three very different escapades wrought from his boxes. On the A side, the message is clear – submit or be destroyed. ‘Eld’ rains down piledriving arpeggios and brittle box drums over a 15-minute span, making for a consummate techno jam which piles the peaks up high and holds your interest through the troughs. It’s rasping and acidic, and charged with enough electric abandon to justify a wholesale spin in a dance reaching fever pitch.
On the flip, you might be surprised by the inclusion of something as direct as ‘Houseparty’. PST has hinted at an affinity for house music in the past, but here makes good on the promise with a bubbling, bouncy slice of OG garage with enough clout to match an Armand Van Helden record but some freakier interference coming through from PST’s endlessly tweaked synth parts. Rounding the record off, ‘Interi R (part 3)’ swerves towards the back room with a bleepy, sleepy sojourn that nods to early techno while equally slotting into the dreamlike state which lingers over so much of the PST oeuvre. It completes the picture of PST’s approach to techno, which is classically executed but still charged with personality and the starry-eyed idealism of all the best machine music.
OW
Paranoid Pyramid – The Acid Quest EP (Mystical Disco)
It was pleasing to witness Mystical Disco’s 2021 return to vinyl after a six-year hiatus, and here Jackson Lee adds to his stylistically adventurous inventory via an all-new pseudonym with ‘The Acid Quest EP’. Over the years, The American producer has released some pleasingly varied music on his homespun label project. Having previously joined the dots between raw techno and sumptuous deep house, his latest effort sees him veer into the gently cosmic realms of electronica via six analogue-fuelled cuts.
Stripped to the purest of components, the EP’s title track features a melodic 303 lead bubbling over sparse drums before thick pads rise like mist to fill in the sonic gaps. Drifting further off-piste, the weirdo melodics of ‘Deja Vu’ layers detuned synth motifs for a delightfully oddball interlude, before ‘Water Temple’ continues the experimental tone with sinewy bleeps echoing across ethereal pads as machine drums play out a jagged rhythm. Over on the other side, the atmospheric moves continue, starting with the descriptively titled ‘Analog Joint’.
Here, rugged beats throb across celestial pads as discreet synth bursts dart across the panorama, with Lee again employing a less-is-more approach to instrumentation. Breaking up the rhythm, we segue into the off-kilter harmonics of ‘Memphis Prophet’, where nebulous pads cloak staccato synths as they soar over scattered drum machine hits. Completing an absorbing set is the closing jam ‘Birdspeak’, with the familiar sound palette embellished with soothing bird song samples as alien refrains meander through the fog. Coherent, unfettered and full of futurist allure, ‘The Acid Quest’ marks a promising beginning for Lee’s memorable new nom de plume.
PC
Alex From Utopia – DB12 008 (Duca Bianco)
Rimini’s Duca Bianco continue to soar high above the average edit-based imprint with their latest tastefully altered leftfield disco oddities. At their worst, edits don’t improve on the original, are clumsy, or even played out. When done well, as only precious few are, they’re an absolute wonder to behold, breathing new life into long-lost originals, reclaiming musical fragments from overbearing chorus sections, and creating mystical magic on in-the-know floors.
As far as we can deduce, the latest in their revolving artistic line-up is Italian artist, Alessandro Baldini, who here adopts the Alex From Utopia moniker as he delivers a pair of honeyed revisions of esoteric titles. ‘Spanish Guitar Tune’ is billed as being a ‘Pike’s Anthem’, something that’s very easy to believe when the ornamented lead plays out its beautifully melancholic melody. Bittersweet but with a joyful flourish, the accompanying horns, proto-house chords and crisp machine drums elegantly combine over synthetic bass to create a powerfully evocative mood.
The dub version toys with the instrumentation for a subtly alternative, with both tracks working equally well as their respective arrangements ever-so-slightly diverge. Likely to please Balearic silverbacks in their droves, this EP is a sure-fire atmosphere enhancer.
PC
East West – Can’t Face The Night (Emotional Rescue)
The Emotional Rescue gang are in a rightfully celebratory mood as they mark an impressive ten years in the notoriously precarious label racket. That they’ve survived and flourished for as long as they have is a testament to the fine work they do on a regular basis, not least the curatorial efforts of frontman Stuart ‘Chuggy’ Leath, who makes a remix appearance on this wonderful re-issue. East West’s ‘Can’t Face The Night’ originally appeared on a white label via Steve Coe’s Indipop label and is the latest of the late producer’s titles resurrected courtesy of Emotional Response.
Coe is perhaps best known for the high-energy club sound he crafted for the likes of Laura Branigan, Ellie Warren and (Top Of The Pops dance troupe) Pan’s People, but was responsible for some genuinely marvellous curious outside of his more commercially known compositions. ‘Can’t Face The Night’ blends sultry disco chug with Indian-themed melodies as yearning vocal chants echo into the steamy distance. The intoxicating club version is complimented with a charming dub mix, while Chubby’s disco mix carefully stretches the arrangement, a certainty to please Balearic-minded selectors as the hypnotic groove lasts ever longer. Good luck trying to find copies of the original, and even if you do, this lovingly remastered edition will unquestionably be a good deal easier on the wallet or purse.
PC
This week’s reviewers: Oli Warwick, Patrizio Cavaliere.
The albums that matter from the past seven days
ALBUM OF THE WEEK
Billy Nomates – CACTI (Invada)
Billy Nomates? Guest appearance on Sleaford Mods’ ‘Mork n Mindy’, right? And that’s probably the extent of knowledge the passing observer has about Midlands-raised, Bristol-based Tor Maries. What the more eagle-eyed will have clocked is Geoff Barrow provided some production work on her 2020 self-titled debut album as Billy Nomates and wasted no time signing her to his excellent Invada label.
And if Geoff Barrow’s involved you’d be wise to listen. The rewards for doing just that with ‘CACTI’, the second Billy Nomates album, are great.
There’s a shift here from that self-titled debut – for a start the sound is bigger, fuller, with more of a band feel to proceedings. The press release talks about there being an “economy of sound” that Maries “achieves with her defiantly DIY approach”. While that may have been true for the debut, we’re moving into new territory here.
While ‘CACTI’ was conceived in her kitchen, it was brought to life at Invada Studios where Maries “raided the cupboards”. Imagine what Geoff Barrow has in his cupboards, and well, here it is, ‘CACTI’-shaped. Co-produced with the label’s in-house engineer James Trevascus, DIY this is not.
A track like ‘Blue Bones (Deathwish)’ has Maries coming on like late-period Fleetwood Mac. FLEETWOOD MAC! Think ‘Tango In The Night’, you know, ‘Big Love’, ‘Seven Wonders’, ‘Everywhere’. Maries voice sounds great too – she’s signing rather than the predominant sprechstimme of the debut. There’s a Stevie Nicks-like rasp on a track like ‘Spite’, which shimmers with Top 40 power chords and ripples with a bassline that wouldn’t be far out of place in 1980s Sheffield.
And that’s where ‘CACTI’ scores big. What Maries does, and she does it deliciously well, is mix these 80s AOR pop licks with some filthy synth work and basslines Cabaret Voltaire would’ve been very happy about. So she can get as 80s AOR she likes, but there’s a sensibility here that loiters in the post punk/no wave back streets and nods knowingly in very much the right direction. So a track like ‘Same Gun’ has such a glorious pop hook, but the bass is stripped bare, stalking, almost krauty. It makes me think of Pat Benatar for some reason. I know, I know.
Lyrically, Maries takes a step back from the ballsy front-foot lyrics of the debut album. Here she displays a more heart-on-the-sleeve venerability, prompted by the familiar wobbles cast by the lockdowns, which, looking back now were beyond weird. So into the trauma of the last couple years she wades, confronting uncomfortable truths or as Tor puts it, “70-80 per cent of being bold is about being vulnerable as hell.”
The hypnotic closer, ‘Blackout Signal’ lays out her thoughts on the matter. “I can’t wait for the blackout signal / I dream of shutdowns now”. It’s a cry for the peace and quiet of lockdown, for a return of the hope that when it was all over perhaps the world would change for the better. Fat chance. It’s a track that descends into a dark hole the longer it goes on with Maries howling the chorus into the void towards the end. Brilliant stuff.
There’s not a dud track – or one even approaching average – across the 12 offerings on ‘CACTI’. “There’s too much music in the world already,” believes Maries, “so everything I make has to count.” And count it does. January is always a bit early to be talking albums of the year, but this sets a very high bar that’s for sure.
NM
Eddie Richards – After All Vol 2 (Repeat)
Genre definitions are funny things. Quite apart from the fact that their use has become increasingly perplexing as musical forms evolve, mutate and splinter off into novel territory, these stylistic terms mean different things to different people. Few such definitions in modern dance music appear as fraught with ambiguity, even controversy, as tech-house. To modern audiences, it conjures images of immaculately manicured, sleeve-tattoo-wearing and, most likely, super sexy jocks fist-pumping while Traktor mixes their freshly downloaded top 100 Beatport chart tracks for them. In these instances, the music tends towards the forgettable, an indistinct third cousin twice removed from what the tag once meant. Back in the ‘90s and ‘00s, the hybrid techno house sound championed by DJs and creators for whom techno was a touch too moody, house a little too saccharine, was positioned on the brightly burning vanguard of UK club culture. Propulsive and raw, crowed-enlivening but never cheesy, the sound balanced techno’s abstract abandon with the hooks and funk of house, and the events at which it was played were some of the most vibrant and unabashed of the time.
It’s hard to think of a single artist with whom the origins of ground-level tech house are more closely interwoven than Eddie Richards. Around and actively contributing to the UK’s house movement since its very beginnings, Richards was blazing a trail as far back as the halcyon days of rave in the ‘80s. He rose to greater prominence as one of the core protagonists of the then-burgeoning tech house sound, his Fabric residency the stuff of legends. German label Repeat have done a grand job re-issuing a selection of his finest works over three instalments. ‘After All Vol 2’ contains some of his very best, with each track a seductive banger. Whatever tech house means today, if you want to immerse yourself in or get to know the sound in its purest and most vital form, this is an excellent place to start.
PC
Liela Moss – Internal Working Model (Bella Union)
If you’re going to have special guests, Gary Numan, Jehnny Beth and Dhani Harrison would do it. Welcome to ‘Internal Working Model’, the third solo album from The Duke Spirit’s Liela Moss.
We’re seeing a number of records that deal with the fallout of the last few years. Working with bandmate/real-life partner Toby Butler, Moss vents her “frustration at our disconnected culture”, you know, the way big business puts itself in the way of our basic needs. “There is very little work in the public interest. Self-interest reins supreme, and it’s toxic,” she offers. The antics of someone like Michelle Mone spring to mind, perhaps?
Moss talks about taking an interest in the work of people like Vandana Shiva, Gabor Mate, Bessel Van de Kolk and XR when she began work on the record and, now it’s finished and being released, how little seems to have changed.
The soaring ‘Vanishing Shadow’, where Gary Numan adds moody backing vocals, sets the tone for the record. ‘Ache In The Middle’, a powerful downtempo to-and-fro between Moss and Savages’ Jehnny Beth is perhaps the standout and came, apparently, as a total surprise. Moss had sent the track to Beth’s bandmate/partner Johnny Hostile for some advice. He asked for the lyrics, which struck her as odd, but you know. The track came back with Jehnny Beth all over it.
While ‘Internal Working Model’ shimmers under its dystopian sheen, it isn’t all dark corners. The closer is proper ray of sunshine. With bright modular synths arpegiating all over the place, ‘Love As Hard As You Can’ features Dhani Harrison (his dad was musician, you might have heard of him) is a proper hymn to, well, loving as hard as you can. Wise words in these difficult times.
NM
Strategy – Unexplained Sky Burners (Peak Oil)
Over time Paul ‘Strategy’ Dickow has done enough to keep us guessing with each release. Sometimes we’re treated to aqueous ambience, sometimes looped up disco house with a minimal twist, elsewhere some live band jams with a kosmische bent. In amongst his considerable catalogue, Peak Oil has been an enabler in that regard, carrying a self-titled album way back in 2012 and the Pressure Wassure 12” a couple of years later, and the two records couldn’t be more different. Interestingly, Pressure Wassure carried some meaty garage flex which rears its head again on this first cassette release for Peak Oil – a tidy album of the kind of off beat, heartfelt electronic gear Dickow is loved for by those who know.
‘Frontiera’ is certainly not a conventional garage cut, but it swings on a 2-step beat and there’s some walloping sub bass, even if the synths are a fruitier flavour and everything has a roughshod charm. ‘Unexplained Sky Burners’ leans a little further into 140 dubstep realms and utterly succeeds, even while not sounding like any kind of typical dubstep you might have heard before. It’s the sound of someone who wholly feels and appreciates the music and choose to channel it through their own tool set rather than trying to seek out the ‘official’ sound palette, as it were.
Overall, Unexplained Sky Burners is a release with the spirit of the rave in its bones. The beats are strident and ready to party, the hooks direct and insistent. Dickow’s somewhat indie tendencies keep everything fresh and distinctive, even when samples like ‘that’ Yazoo laugh get dropped into the mix, and it winds up as an album which could very much be at home listened front to back on tape, as much as it could be mined by DJs looking for some non-cookie cutter wares with all the right chops and drops.
OW
James Yorkston, Nina Persson and The Second Hand Orchestra – The Great White Sea Eagle (Domino)
This is one of those albums that just makes everything seem a little bit better. It’s the follow-up to 2021’s ‘The Wide, Wide River’, the first outing from Yorkston and Karl Jonas Winqvist’s Stockholm-based Second Hand Orchestra.
It seems that slowly but surely Yorkston has been adding people to his gang, although it was Winqvist who made the inspired suggestion to add The Cardigans’ Nina Persson.
The record follows the same path as ‘The Wide, Wide River’. None of the orchestra had heard the songs before arriving at the studio. Yorkston would play each song, with the other musicians joining in as and when. After three or four run-throughs they’d press record. “Everything was just happy. I love the wildness in it,” says Yorkston. You can hear it in the recording.
‘The Great White Sea Eagle’ feels mellower than its predecessor, more chilled out somehow. Maybe it’s just more sure of itself. The stall gets set out beautifully on the melodic almost sing-along opener, ‘Sam And Jeanie McGreagor’, where Persson takes the lead. You forget what a good band The Cardigans were. Her voice is terrific.
‘The Heavy Lyric Police’ is fit to burst with the entire orchestra seeming to scrap for space as it reaches its crescendo. It’s followed by ‘A Sweetness In You’, just Yorkson and a warm keyboard. These kinds of to and fro – from chucking everything at a song followed by a track that couldn’t be more minimal makes for a delightful listen.
Yorkson himself hits the nail on the head when he describes ‘The Harmony’, a beautifully intimate duet between him and Persson, as “woozy”. That’s exactly it. The whole thing is off-kilter in the most pleasing way. It’s a truly lovely record.
NM
Wave Temples – Another Night In Peru (Possible Motive)
Operating in the mysterious zone otherwise known as the tape scene and with a catalogue reaching back more than 10 years, Wave Temples feels like an artist one stumbles across thanks to blind luck on some kind of intrepid journey. Of course such imagery is positively encouraged by whoever makes this music, in which exotica and tropical fauna are channeled in subtle rather than crass ways. The emphasis is on creating an eco system in the same mode as artists like Andrew Pekler and Tristan Arp, where the wonderment of the unknown is about fantasy lands rather than problematic cultural colonialism.
Not Not Fun picked recent Wave Temples releases and now another notable link up arrives courtesy of Possible Motive, who also put out the excellent X.Y.R. album Anciente and Ratkiller’s Leather Squeaking Softly. The sound conjured on Another Night In Peru is fascinating, putting field recordings on an equal footing with any melodic or rhythmic elements to create vivid and tangible scenes. There are some beautiful musical passages, but they seem to move in deference to the environment around them, as though emerging from the trees. If you’re a fan of this kind of ecological listening experience, Wave Temples can take you to a very happy place indeed.
OW
This week’ reviewers: Neil Mason, Oli Warwick, Patrizio Cavaliere.
