Review:: Muse – ‘Drones’

Originally published on The Bubble, Durham University Online Student Magazine

Matt Bellamy and co have seemingly gotten to that stage in their careers where a hefty dose of musical introspection is what the doctor has ordered. The solution to the questions posed by this self-analysis comes in the form of their 7^th LP ‘Drones’.

Following on from the somewhat bloated and misdirected double of ‘The Resistance’ and ‘The 2^nd Law’, ‘Drones’ largely offers a refreshing return to the melodramatic guitar-based modern rock that Muse made their name with. However there does remain the feeling that they have either not found themselves fully enough after having self-confessedly ‘lost sight of themselves’ over the past few years, or that this has become an exercise in damage limiting regression.

At times it seems that they are exorcizing ghosts of mistakes past. Leaving the perfectly brooding ‘Fury’ off of ‘Absolution’ or ignoring the imitable behemoth that is ‘Citizen Erased’ for the majority of shows since its inception are prime examples. The former is remedied by the fan-servicing ‘The Handler’, which is a pretty good song don’t get me wrong, but one wonders whether it comes half a decade too late, at a point where the group would rather be evolving their sound than reanimating early 20s versions of themselves. Much hyped 10-minute three-parter ‘The Globalist’, excitingly termed by band and fans alike as the sequel to ‘Citizen Erased’ doesn’t manage to make up for lost time. It is an awkward blend of spaghetti Western doodling, System of a Down b-side riffing and Elgar-infused meandering balladry – its greatest crime though, is being utterly forgettable.

Perhaps the greatest piece of scrambling for past glories, with respect to hard-core fan adulation and genuine critical excitement, is ‘Psycho’. I’ll confess- I bloody love this track. Recycling an excellently simple riff the band has been employing in live sets for nigh on 15 years is a bold move that, in the most part, pays off. The fact that they’ve managed to base an actual song around it, as opposed to just tagging it on to the end of something, does it the justice it deserves. Yes, the drill sergeant screams and borderline comic lyrics of ‘I’m gonna make you a fucking psycho!’ and ‘Your ass belongs to me now!’ may seem a little contrived and criticisms of this can be understood, but to do so would be to miss the point. Muse have always been a band who, in their later years at least, work best with tongue firmly in cheek; think ‘Knights of Cydonia’, ‘Uprising’, ‘United States of Eurasia’ or ‘Panic Station’. To that end, the playful ‘Pyscho’ is a fun rock track brimming with attitude that cannot fail to make you want to move.

The criticism I would level at it is a different one, which applies to large amounts of the album unfortunately, and that is, ironically given what they are trying to turn their backs on, its bloatedness. There is at least one riff/verse/chorus cycle too many and it is painful hearing the track flying past what feels so obviously a natural ending point. It is based on a simple idea, but the group can’t help but push it beyond its limit. The same can be said of lead single ‘Dead Inside’, the pointless reconciliatory chord section at the end ruining the infectious groove and defiance the first half of the track builds up. In the aforementioned ‘The Handler’ the solo section is at least twice as long as it needs to be and the solo from ‘Reapers’ spirals out of control.

However despite the apparent stream of negatives above there is a lot to love on this album, for hard-core Muse fans and casuals alike. The best moments come when you cannot hear the band ‘thinking’ about the music they are making, and instead just cut loose and do what they want. The album standout is the four track run of ‘Reapers’/’The Handler’’/[JFK] Defector’/’Revolt’. ‘Reapers’ is an amalgamation of ‘Stockholm Syndrome’ in its heaviness and blasé riffage, and ‘Knights of Cydonia’ in its appealing campness. ‘Defector’ is Queen gone grunge, and ‘Revolt’ to all intents and purposes should be unstomachable cheese, a result of entering Muse into Eurovision, but somehow it really works. Honourable mentions should go to ‘Mercy’, a great rock-pop epic in the vein of ‘Starlight’, and album closer ‘Drones’ if only for its ambition, an acapella song about which members of your family are being killed by drones inspired by Gregorian Monk chants. At the end of the day, THAT is what Muse is all about, taking ridiculousness, melodrama and bombast to the next level, and at times it feels they are the only band who are trying to do this.

So perhaps we can forgive Muse’s identity crisis, Bellamy’s oft times clunky (or perhaps more accurately, awful) lyrics and the concept (literally, this must be a record for the amount of times an album’s name features in the lyrics) as at the end of the day this a pretty good slice of epic and listenable modern-rock. Also, thank god they’ve got a producer in this time to rein them in or who knows what could’ve happened. 7/10

Essential Tracks: ‘Psycho’, ‘Reapers’, ‘Defector’, ‘Revolt’

Lewis Lloyd-Kinnings

Live Review:: Wolf Alice + The Magic Gang + Bloody Knees @ The Junction, Cambridge, 10/4/15

Originally published in Durham student Online Magazine The Bubble here

First to take to the stage at Cambridge’s premier live music venue (The Corn Exchange, whilst bigger, lacks the same beery-pissy-dodgy-club-night vibe) are local legends Bloody Knees. The crowd is understandably bigger at this early stage than it would be for an out of town support, and they give the 4-piece grunge-pop outfit a vociferous reception. In return they are granted with a new slice of their trademark distorted guitars x snarling vocals formula, with the dedicated hardcore’s wasting no time in starting the mosh pits in the centre of the crowd.

Second up is another new track. Whilst opening with a single new one would be an understandable decision, to go for two is bold, but Bloody Knees have the chops to just pull it off. That being said, it is a relief for the amiable atmosphere that recent single ‘Day Dream’ is wheeled out, to the majority of the crowd’s delight.

One issue throughout the set is the muddiness in the sound, particularly affecting the catchy lead guitar lines that are prevalent throughout their music. This is most noticeable on penultimate song and signature tune ‘Ears Eyes Ohs and Yous’- the track that broke them, and the one song that anyone who has heard of this band is likely to know. To that end, the loss of the main riff isn’t disastrous, as most just sing it along in their head, or even out loud, anyway. The anthemic yet melodic ‘whaoaoaoaoa’’s of the chorus, combined with the dramatically increased mosh pit, are the first of many roof lifting moments of the night. The refrain of last track Stitches (ironically written about an incident on BK’s last tour with Wolf Alice), “I’m covered in blood, but at least I’m having fun” is an apposite mantra for the boisterous and carefree crowd. No doubt some of those in attendance will be requiring stiches by the end.

As a final aside, it seem churlish to quibble over set lists when the band only get half an hour to perform but there was a feeling that the group did leave some sparkle out. ‘Luckless’ and ‘Bury Me’ would’ve been more dynamic cuts to include from the Stitches EP, as opposed to ‘Never Change’ and ‘Garbage Brain’. Further to this, the aforementioned ‘Ears eyes…’ was the single track from their debut release played, and stand-alone tunes ‘Bones’ and ‘Bed tomb’ were also avoided. It is totally reasonable that they wanted to try some new ones, and these were sounding promising, but still, in what is likely to be one of their biggest shows yet, a more longtime-fan friendly set would’ve been appreciated. On the flip-side, if they had played more recognisable songs, others may have bemoaned their lack of evolution. What’re you gonna do? Overall, a very enjoyable set, if not quite as incendiary as past performances in more intimate venues.

Much hyped Brighton four-piece are the second act to slide onto the Cambridge stage. Crisply and concisely cracking into their opening number, the first of many charming and effervescent retro-modern guitar indie tunes gets the capacity crowd dancing again. If Bloody Knees dealt in punky angst, The Magic Gang are all smiles and cheerful bouncing, much like the Weezer incarnation that appears in the Happy Days inspired video for ‘90s guitar-pop paragon ‘Buddy Holly’. Second up is the song that first brought the gangsters to the spotlight, ‘She Won’t Ghost’- again there is nothing complicated about this song, but the vintage production and pained way the vocalists sing it give it that extra lift. On vocalists, I’ll confess, having slacked on research, I thought they had just the one lead singer, owing to the almost imperceptible difference in the sound of the voices. Turns out, the three guys out the front of the stage are all capable of harmonising delectably, a highlight apparent throughout the set.

A girl behind me says “I know its cheesy… but I love a bit of cheese!”- this is perhaps not the description these guys are longing after, but it does however highlight one strong asset they, an ability to appeal to all sorts of music fan. To this end, there musical career, which is headed in only one direction at the moment, following being made track of the week on BBC Radio 1 Introducing, should show no sign of slowing. There is something extremely balanced about this band, from the subtle yet infectious sound, to the mirroring way the two guitarists stand next to each other on stage (one of them is a lefty!).

‘Jasmine’, played midway through the set, stands out as a stunningly well-crafted track, before the trio of crowd-pleasers (chiefly by virtue of actually being available on the internet) ‘Alright’, ‘Shallow’ and ‘No fun’ are dispatched towards the end of their time on stage. ‘No fun’, one of the best songs released so far in 2015, is in fact the set-closer, and an apt one at that. The cooler kids in the crowd already know all of the words to it, and it is by no means a stretch of the imagination to say that this tune could become a real festival favourite in no time at all. The Magic Gang’s set here is exactly the opposite to the title of their latest single, and its brilliant than in these austere times there is a band simply unafraid of just making things fun.

All that’s left now is for Wolf Alice to take to the stage. Walking on to the sound effects heavy intro track which seems all the rage these days, Wolf Alice do not mess about. Opening with old classic ‘Fluffy’ and plunging straight into the menacing and manic former single ‘She’ gets the entire capacity crowd bouncing. Ellie Rowsell’s vocals disconcertingly flit between sickly sweet and psychotic, but always hit the right spot for excitement. Wolf Alice are hyped to an almost debilitating extent, but from this performance it’s easy to see why. Each side they show off throughout the set, from the riff-tastic main-set closer ‘Giant Peach’, to the warm oldie (and new single!) ‘Bros’, the epic ballad ‘Blush’ and shoegazing ‘Storms’ is immaculately paced and performed.

The electricity and energy flowing between band and crowd is intense, and lead guitarist Joff seems sincere, when it could be seen as stale stage talk, as he proclaims ‘what a way to go out Cambridge!’- highlighting the fact this is the last night of their UK tour. The pleasant unassuming nature of the group, exemplified by their frontwoman’s shy/coy on stage presence, remains, but the nerves that gave a slight awkward edge to past performances is totally gone. No more are they the group opening their Glastonbury set by yelling “we’re so nervous!”- they walk on like they own the place. This is most apparent as they return to the stage for an encore- there is tangible excitement, as the crowd know exactly what they’re about to play. The soft opening strums of ‘Moaning Lisa Smile’ signal the loudest screams of the night, and as the main riff kicks in it is impossible not to pogo to the perfect arena rock rhythm. All 900 attendees collectively lose their shit, especially for the massive ‘AaAaAaAaAaAaAaAsss’ of the chorus. Once this, their final song, finishes, all that remains is the unshakeable feeling that you’re lucky to have caught one of the most exciting young groups in the country at a relatively intimate venue.

All three acts return to the stage for West End style bows with a rock-star edge- high fiving, hugging and back clapping are prominent. Tonight has been a great affirmation of the safety of the future of exciting live music in the UK. Lewis Lloyd-Kinnings

Review:: Wale – The Album About Nothing

Wale occupies a strange liminal in the hip-hop landscape. He’s worked frequently with the straight up gangster-rap guys like Rick Ross and is as equally chummy with ballers as Drizzy and Hove. But for a member of a sub-culture so concerned with being cool, Wale has always openly embraced his quirks and idiosyncrasies – his music has reflected this complexity and three-dimensionality. His latest effort, The Album About Nothing, does just that. It would be easy to dismiss Nothing as just another commercialised art-hop album (think Kid Cudi or Wiz Khalifa), with all the inoffensive samples and ostensibly detached vocals. The record is perhaps even more susceptible to this treatment thanks to the recent release to universal acclaim of contemporary Kendrick Lamar’s To Pimp A Butterfly, which is about as get-your-elbows-in-Van-Gogh-style and impressively outside-the-box as hip-hop gets. But to do so would be to overlook Wale’s own story and the way in which he invests himself into his work.
Where most rappers focus on money, weed, ‘pussy’ and other material goods, on Nothing Wale instead chooses to take a bird’s-eye view, reflecting on love, loss and what he presumably sees as the destitution of his genre. ”Gotta be the realest, society y’all trippin” mocks Wale on ‘The Middle Finger’ before repeatedly insisting ”Fuck you, leave me alone”. Then Seinfeld chips in with the reprimand ”aware of everything, paying attention to one thing”. Wale’s saying something here that has needed saying for some time; American culture’s relationship with rap and hip-hop has increasingly become a caricature of itself. Nobody does hand-wringing like the D.C native. Except maybe Larry David, obviously…
Wale has opened up recently about his girlfriend’s miscarriage and his ensuing struggles with drugs and depression after this personal tragedy. And one of the strengths of Nothing is the way it embodies a sense of rueful nostalgia and almost placid comfort amongst all the usual production paraphernalia. On the hammocked ‘The White Shoes’ the nurturing line ”you’ll be alright” is probably directed as much at Wale himself as much as the character in the track. ”You still my nigga”, he says to God on ‘The God Smile’ – through everything hurled at him, Wale has retained the tongue-in-cheek irony and black humour that has always made him such an original and interesting lyricist. When he does return to more familiar subject territory, such as ‘The Girls On Drugs’, which features an irresistible sample and groove reminiscent of Justice’s ‘D.A.N.C.E’ blended with ‘Get Lucky’, he does so with the same wit and SMH disdain. If there’s a glaring criticism of Nothing then it would probably be that the knock-out cuts are too few and far between.
But maybe that’s the point. The clips of Seinfeld heard interceding the tracks aren’t actually clips at all – they’re in fact recordings of the man himself made specifically to narrate the album. Though the title of Wale’s latest record as well as his debut, The Mixtape About Nothing, are clear indicators of borderline obsessive fandom, the legendary comedian and rapper are actually friends. Just read this ‘Complex’ interview! Despite being the trippiest of collaborations, the individuals’ works do share some similarities. Seinfeld revolutionised the sitcom not just by its format of being ‘a show about nothing’ but also by the way its characters didn’t endear themselves to the audience. It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia has taken it to the Nth degree, but often Jerry, George, Elaine and Kramer just didn’t have the good hearts or nature into which emotion could be invested (Friends, Married…With Kids etc. etc.). Making people laugh without that crutch to lean on is hard; Jerry’s show was still able to be regarded as very funny. Nothing isn’t overtly political and it doesn’t it shed much light on the African-American experience. Nor is it particularly confrontational or aggressive. Its easy-going tone could even be interpreted as lazy or flippant. But Wale’s heart and soul are there within the multi-layers of the lyrics. You just have to listen out for it. And, like Seinfeld it overcomes a seeming lack of depth and poignancy by simply being enjoyable. It might not change your world, but for the time you’re listening it’s twitching rhythms, lush atmospherics and Wale’s warm, nonchalant flow it will take your mind elsewhere. And sometimes, that’s more than enough.

By:: Alex Cheah

Guest Article:: Oliver White Reviews Father John Misty’s ‘I Love you Honeybear’

Originally Posted at https://idontknowhowtousefreedom.wordpress.com/2015/03/19/father-john-misty-i-love-you-honeybear/

Father John Misty- I Love You Honeybear

Boy is it hard to keep up a character in the music business. Lana del Ray had to fight the ghost of her former failed stage name Lizzy Grant. Meanwhile Father John Misty turned his back on 10 years of being plain old Josh Tillman. Both decided to exchange for a decadent sepia-toned 60’s version, where dry wit was held in high regard, and singing about sex was still a new thing. So how does it hold up 50 years later?

In his debut Fear Fun Misty managed to give fresh breath to old ballads. Audiences to his shows suddenly realised how much they’ve missed bandleaders who can wiggle their hips, lean on microphones seductively and give you a cheeky wink. The lyrics played with social commentary and debauchery in an amusing way (I’ve got my right hand stamped/In the concentration camps/Where my organs scream slow down man’). And above all Fear Fun bred hits: chorus, riffs, anthems.

Come his second foray into Father John Misty I Love You Honeybear, Misty goes conceptual- a scrapbook dedicated to his newly wedded wife Emma and also, as the press-release goes, a ‘concept album about some guy named Josh Tillman’.   So if Fear Fun as the title suggests was the “fun one”, Honeybear must be the album of reckoning, where you look past the playful asides and witty quips and Father John Misty bares his true self. Unfortunately, on closer inspection, it isn’t much.

It’s always admirable that Father John Misty tries to carve an overarching theme and even a plot into the album, putting the role of the album back on its pedestal where it belongs. Unfortunately this does also put the integrity of his “theme” on trial.   Throughout, we see Misty constantly striving for a different sound. He lets his songs grate to offset the listener towards the limits of their comfort zone, such as in the injection of ‘literally’s in ‘The Night Josh Tillman Came to Our Apt.’, the coy evasion of chorus in ‘Chateau Lobby #4’, or the curveball electronic track ‘True Affection’.

However to me these supposedly admirable wrenches that Misty throws in his works suggest cowardice rather than fearlessness. Musically or personally he keeps evading the hollowness of his own musical core. ‘True Affection’ feels just like a Postal Service rip-off, rather than Misty’s personal version. His evasion of chorus, which he hit so well in Fear Fun, offers nothing in return but buzzwords like ‘challenging’ or ‘uncomfortable wriggle of an album’ as his acclaimers Allmusic and Stereogum lavish him with.

Through the smoke and mirrors of Father John Misty’s “Great Pretender” persona, what actually becomes most striking is how out-dated his musical smirks are. The sardonic superiority of the character from ‘The Night Josh Tillman’ “Of the few main things I hate about her, one’s her petty, vogue ideas’ comes straight from the Catcher in Rye-isms that were so popular in films a decade ago. The most compelling anachronism is from the title-track ‘Unless we’re naked getting high on the mattress/ While the global market crashes,’ which immediately took me back to the final scene of Fight Club.

See the issue with playing a character is like having a sex doll- it constantly requires re-inflation. Father John Misty has tried extending his character’s lifespan by raising the stakes, and unfortunately bit off more than he could chew. Maybe the most admirable thought is that he tried so hard at it, almost in the same way that he can admire a student who ends up spending four times harder at cheating on an exam rather than just revising for it.

Oliver White

Check out more of Oliver’s delectable musical insights over at https://idontknowhowtousefreedom.wordpress.com/

New on the Air:: Speedy Ortiz – ‘The Graduates’

At first glance, Speedy Ortiz appear to tick all the boxes that are anathema to those who decide what constitutes ‘good’ music these days. There’s the sludgy 90’s guitar hooks, the festival-bait choruses and one dimensionality, not to mention the general air of faux brooding grunginess and conspicuous revivalism. But the Massachusetts foursome get away with it. Their debut album, ‘Major Arcana’, was highly praised for the personal stamp that front-woman/creator/song-writing teacher Sadie Dupuis put on it via her lyrical chemistry and dissonant, pissed-off-at-everyone vocals as well as its classic, you-can-almost-hear-the-fretting, indie-rock production. Thus, they’ve built quite the fan-base over the last couple of years, and it comes as no surprise that ‘The Graduates’, released last week, is pretty much more of the same. It’s a little more layered than the majority arcanority of ‘Major Arcana’, and there’s even a hint of a synthesiser at points during the verse (calm down guys!). But the bulk of the track is rooted in power-chord riffage played under a sing-a-long chorus. The whole ‘I was the best at being second place, but now I’m just the runner-up’ metaphor isn’t half as clever as Dupuis probably thinks it is but, as usual, she works the melodies around the guitars brilliantly – she has a real knack for making turbulent discord feel silky smooth. As long as she keeps on doing this, and the hits keep coming, then Speedy Ortiz will continue to be one of the most popular bands on the circuit. Listen here: