It’s a while since I reviewed a release from Blue Kubricks. That last review being ‘Heroin’ back in April this year. I loved that track so I approached this release with a certain amount of excitement.
I’m going to be honest, I wasn’t sure about this the first time I played this through. This may be because the band had labelled this ‘alternative rock’ on the Soundcloud preview stream. And it certainly isn’t that, not in any way, shape or form. It’s something completely different. Once I’d got used to that – and it took another two plays – I became rather attached to it.
I’m going to call this laid back West Coast rock, imagine if you will ‘Hotel California’ period Eagles. It’s kind of rock with a funky soul-y edge. I think they call it Yacht Rock, may be wrong. But it has a charm all of its own – there is a spoken section, chanted vocals, more than a touch of humour in the words. Oh, and the creamiest guitar break.
Taken individually I’m not entirely sure that it works but it’s when you add all of them together it works, it’s way more than the sum of its parts.
It is something that is unashamedly retro, it took me back, way back to the days of my youth. Bizarrely it’s the kind of thing I wouldn’t have liked at all way back in my youth but as we grow our tastes change, expand, and now I really like it.
I’m guessing to really appreciate this, you need to set the scene – palm trees, over decorated cocktail – preferably served in a pineapple. Given that these are probably in short supply right now, just imagine it, crank up your system and let the good times roll people.
Hot – or possibly very warm, it was out a while ago – on the heels of the compilation ‘Our Favourite Trainers’ (read our review) comes a new King of The Slums album. Something which, I have to admit, was greeted with something I call ‘my happy dance’. I was, and still am, very very excited.
Importantly I got lyrics to go along with the preview stream, and studying these the album title basically sums it up. Some of the songs are rather more encrypted than others – I guess I should have expected that. Even with words in front of my eyes there are some songs that I just can’t figure out at all. Is this a problem? No, look you don’t need to understand exactly what a song is about to love it. Song meanings can be fluid, they can mean different things to different people. I know people spent hours arguing about what a song is about and attempting to set a definitive meaning, but honestly live and let live people. If you find different meanings in songs to others it’s completely valid.
There is, with each KOTS album release, a change in feel and sound. Sometimes this is big and obvious, sometimes it’s subtle and you just feel it without being able to define why. In the case of ‘Encrypted Contemporary Narratives’ musically it feels harder, it comes with something of an aggressive edge, it sounds more angular. But we live in hard, aggressive and angular times, so that’s only fitting.
‘Faux Faux La Bardot’ – the album’s opening track – is one of those songs I’ve been unable to unencrypt. On the face of it there is a narrative, which involves visiting a burlesque club, but then it gets weird and frankly rather beautifully scarily strange. Guitars stab at you, drums pop, the words come at you in a sinister tone. It’s industrial and post-punk.
We are on safer and simpler narrative ground with ‘Posh Town Witchcult’. The story of Julia who goes peculiar. It’s droney and dense, there are wonderful and beautiful sounds of viola or violin that sinuously wind their way through this track. It’s all beautifully dark.
‘Fridgehead Canoe’ is harder, more punky. Guitars riff, drums pound. There is a florist shop, a canoe on a roof rack, there is a head in a fridge and the canoe is full of money. It’s one of those KOTS songs that you know there is a story behind, and let me assure you I have spent some time Googling florists and canoes to no avail. But hey, make your own story.
And now to the epic ‘Cockroach Frequency’. Musically it sits somewhere in the intersection between punk, progressive heavy rock, post-punk and the sound of Bowie’s ‘Man Who Sold The World’. Hard sustained guitar rings out, discordant sounds crash over you, drums hypnotise. And while I have not the slightest idea what this song is about, it’s compelling, addictive, and I just let it drown me in sound. An album highlight.
A song about our right to protest, our right to protest peacefully – ‘Dissident Citizen’ – is entirely right for our times. As our rights to protest are eroded at some speed, this song stands up for that right to be upheld.
‘Snake Pass Luggage’ is one of those songs that takes some time to get, but once you do it’s obvious. The words are a conversation between two people – one of whom has found a bag full of guns, knives and drugs in a lay-by on Snake Pass. Musically it switches between a kinda half spoken word piece and a song by – and I’m sure the band must be getting tired of this reference from me – Here & Now. A sort of tribal drum beat, over which guitars roar, crash and stab.
‘Codewriter’ is another conversation song. It’s either simple and completely clear in meaning, or complex and open to interpretation. It’s a song you could make your own meaning to.Musically it’s somewhat sparser, and sinuous.
Piano is the – unexpected – lead instrument in ‘104 Words’ at least to start off. A song about, and this is something of a stab in the dark, environmental protest. A simple piano figure sounds over a sustained guitar. And then as the words end, it suddenly bursts into an electric jig, a riot of sound. It’s the most wonderful release after the first half which is full of tension.
Quite what ‘Odd Sock Drawer’ is about is unclear. It seems to celebrate oddness and individuality, but it could be about something entirely different. It’s one of those songs I, and perhaps you, might need to let sit for a while. Let it reveal itself over time. Musically it’s slightly insane, there’s a crazy tone to the vocals. There’s that ‘Man Who Sold The World’ thing going on.
‘The Mercy Clown’ is a portrait in words of a Northern character. Violin (or possibly viola) stabs, swirls sinuously, guitars growl. Those ‘radio vocals’ are employed. It’s fantastically dense and layered. There’s a musical and lyrical structure but it has the feel of a freeform musical piece. T has, and I hope you’ll forgive me, a structured non-structure. It has a sound you want, no need, to drown in.
KOTS do these stream of consciousness songs and album closer – ‘Sugar Rush’ – is one of those. The words are like those thoughts you get in your head, that fall over themselves, that make sense and then make no sense at all. String sounds are the musical spine of this song, sounds that soar, sounds that disturb, sounds that sound like the thoughts inside of my head at times, compulsive and unstoppable, tumbling over each other, clashing.
The easy, and the lazy music reviewer, way of summing this album up is say King of the Slums do it again, releasing yet another brilliant album. And this is true, completely true,
However that’s not enough for me obviously. What this album brings into sharp focus is that what the band do, in its own way, is folk music, not in musical form of course, but in song topics. The songs tackle issues that are of today, issues that are important. They tell stories of ‘ordinary extraordinary people’.
And as the words reflect now, the music does that as well. Yes, it’s still the recognisable sound of KOTS but the sound follows the song subjects, and where we are now as a society.
It goes without saying, but I’m going to say it anyway, that the playing on this album is as good as the band have ever done. The standard of playing is consistently great across all of their releases.
I have loved all of their albums for different reasons. The reason I love this album is that the songs paint a picture of now, a picture made up of the people.in our world today. Yes, these are individuals but somehow they encapsulate all of us. And there’s a beauty in that.
The album available via www.kingoftheslums.com, most digital streaming platforms and all good record shops.
Furrowed Brow are out of Manchester, and there is something of a Manchester sound in this track. It sounds like The Fall and Joy Division combined playing a B-52s’ song or as my very helpful friend coined it ‘post-punk go-go music’.
It has throbbing bass, vaguely 60s’ doomy organ, out there guitar, wonderful backing vocals, those braying lead vocals. It’s fiercely DIY, has production values that are so lo-fi that it becomes part of the art of this track – it sounds like it was recorded in a bathroom with the band playing through one of their father’s 70s’ ‘Hi-Fi’ systems – in a good way, I emphasise, a great way.
It is of course, as the title might suggest, fantastically lyrically blunt.
If it sounds as though I’m damning this with faint praise, I’m sorry, I’m not. The thing is that ‘Pissing Superfluous’ is something wonderful, something fucking wonderful. It’s the sound of a band who basically care not one jot for what is fashionable. I’m not entirely sure they care what the listening public thinks of what they do. They just do what they do, what they like, and leave for us to decide whether we like it. I love it. The same comments apply to the rest of their music, which I have devoured greedily. There is so much variation – mutant art-rock, mutant indie (I kid you not) – but it all comes with that Furrowed Brow thing (see ‘The info’ below for their Soundcloud profile)
The thing is that the more you listen to this you hear, through all of the on the edge sounds, things that delight – the organ is frankly glorious, the drop out section with whispered vocals over tingling percussion, the archness of the lead vocal, the wonderful fast section that sounds oh-so glamorous. And this is before I even address the words that are beyond words good. I give you:
‘As more plastic’s chucked in the sea
Plastic girls mince by
Romantically fucked beneath the Eiffel Tower
On a Tuesday night’
And
‘Necking moonshine made with the yeast from an old pair of underpants
Snorting lines of powdered lemsip
A member of the public grovelling publicly to Megham Markle
I sold my shadow to a man in grey
He was the patron saint of all atheists
Who are the newsagents always on the phone to anyway
They’re pissing superfluous’
It’s post-punk poetry.
This my friends is a thing of beauty, it’s beautiful because it’s a band doing their own thing without a care in the world.
The info
Well known [some say notorious] across the North West for their unruly, irreverent shows and idiosyncratic and uncompromising sound, this single follows Furrowed Brow’s debut 5-track EP ‘Dead Dead Dead Still Digging’ which picked up a slew of enthusiastic reviews and extensive airplay when it dropped in May.
Alex – synth / monotron / vox
Criostoir – drums
Ryan – bass / vox
Richey – vox
Meg – guitar
The title of this EP from Artio says to me, and I may be wrong, that they are saying ‘be yourself, don’t care what others feel or think about you’. And as I heard with the lead single from it – ‘All Things End’, the songs on this show a musical maturity, a progression, a new confidence, new sounds creeping in.
Two of the songs on this have released, ‘All Things End’ back in June and ‘Hell’s Door’ more recently. If you’ve heard those you’ll have some idea of the sound of the EP. If you haven’t heard them then why not, why in the hell not. I mean what do I do this for if you’re not going to actually take any notice of my music recommendations?
As you’ll be aware if you’ve read my Artio reviews – and please in the name of all that is sacred I hope you have – they do big synth alt-pop that comes with wonderful touches of sound, unexpected sounds, wonderful vocals, clever arrangements and production. The songs on this EP are big big synth alt-pop, so big that they begin to edge into rock, more than edge at times. They’ve taken their sound to a level that sounds majestic and huge. The sound that comes out of the speakers at you – and I do recommend hearing this on some sort of big music system – crashes over you like a storm wave, it batters you, yet at the same time caressing you with a richness of sound that is almost edible. I gush, I know I gush.
The EP opens with ‘All Things End’ (read my full review here) and I’ve not changed my mind about it.
‘And this song falls and builds, and as it does that, emotionally we are taken on a journey. Until, as the song comes to an end, we are returned to that gentle keyboards and guitar, there is some sonic closure.
‘And yes, this song has those Artio touches sonically, but more so. There is the sound of a ticking clock. A ticking clock that evolves in a skittering rhythm that is disturbing. There are strangely off-kilter synth pads. And yes, this song rewards repeated listening. With each listen you hear more and more sounds, there is always something new. But it never, and I mean never, loses its impact.
‘There is a maturity in this song. Musically it feels more complex than their previous releases. Rae’s vocals are frankly amazing. The degree to which the vocals, the music and the words make something that is more, so much more, than the sum of its parts’.
But there something else that in the context of the EP I’m noticing that I didn’t notice before. That is that there is something of a feel of goth in there – I know ‘hush my mouth’ maybe I should just be thinking that instead of saying it. The opening feels like one of those gentle All About Eve songs and when it builds it has the feel of something Nu-Goth. Not hugely, it’s only a hint but for me it’s there. There is more than a hint of a rock feel.
‘Basement Dance’ is one hard hitting track. It has the power of an alternative rock track, it does that loud /quiet thing. It’s surprisingly simple for an Artio track. Yes, there are touches of sound in there that mark it out as an Artio song but it majors on being hard hitting.
Rae uses what I’m calling her ‘new vocal thing’, it’s her quiet section voice with added edge. And in the loud bits there is what I think of as an almost metal vocal. Hol’s voice is getting scarily powerful.
My helpful friend describes this as ‘the lose your shit song’ on the EP. She’s right. I can easily imagine thrashing around to this.
And then there is ‘Hell’s Door’. A powerhouse of a song. This is huge and I mean gigantic. Although it builds to that, there’s something of a lighter intro section, then Hol’s vocals and gradually it adds layers and layers of sound. It takes big synth pop and layers on strings, a pounding beat, dirty dirty synth sounds, vocal fx to the max. Weird sounds.
It waxes and wanes, and with every build there’s something new, something to surprise and delight. It’s one of those Artio songs that every time you hear it there’s something new to delight your ears.
The whole is scarily huge, and returning to something I said earlier, has something of a Nu-Goth/rock sound to it.
‘Cat’s Eyes’ is a beautiful respite from the power, at least to start. Skittering rhythms, strummed acoustic, vocals that change and change in style and sound. And we are barely into the song. And then it builds. And then it drops into a section with voices layered on top of each other.
It’s in this track that you can really hear that Rae holds nothing back in her vocals, you can hear her gulping in air, at points it sounds like she’s ripping her vocal chords apart.
The final track – ‘The Venom’ – features joegrarret on vocals. It is perhaps the most big synth pop track on the EP. And it comes with an unexpectedly emotional beauty in the sound. This song is all about feel and communicating the song both sonically and vocally. Hol’s vocals are simple and heartfelt.
It is again a track that rewards repeated listening. There are layers of vocals in there that are so beautiful they bring tears to the eyes. There are sounds that surprise.but never detract from the feel.
It seems that Artio grow and change with every release. I gave up long ago trying to second guess what their releases would sound and feel like. I have just accepted that with every new release I am going to be swept off my feet, and fall in love with the band yet again. And this EP is no exception to that. It’s fantastically accomplished in all the ways it should be – playing, vocally, lyrically, in its production; you expect that from Artio, I haven’t been let down. It takes their sound in a new direction but without losing the core of their sound – big synth rock anyone? There is not one track that sounds like a filler. And as a set of songs they’re coherent and make sense heard together – played in the order they’re put them in there’s a journey with a beginning, a middle and an end.
I love it and, strangely more importantly, my cat Maisie loves it. I only have to play the first few seconds of the first track and she rushes into whatever room I’m in. She’s very picky about music, to get her seal of approval is huge.
Put simply, this EP is bloody fantastic.I can sum it up no better than that.
Ladybower describe themselves – at least in the email they sent us – as an art-rock/alternative rock band. Now art-rock is one of those, let’s call it, wide-ranging genres. It means different things to different people. There is one thing I find unites all of the music that’s defined as art-rock, and that’s a certain archness, a certain sense of ‘this is a performance’ in the music. And this is something that ‘Human Ladder’ has.
First of all this song is about something, the band say, ‘Human ladder is a playful cocktail of energy, excitement and suspense. It tells the story of finally coming into your own after realising you’ve spent your life being stepped on. We think of Human Ladder as an energy-drink in song form’.
There is something of an 80s’ feel to ‘Human Ladder’ – there are hints of the kind of music produced by artists like Thomas Dolby, something of late Duran Duran peaking through in the guitar. It has that very angular guitar sound that is so 80s. Even the vocals come with something of an 80s’ feel. And it has the most wonderful swirling sections.
This is one of those times when I’m going to say this sounds retro BUT I’m not going to say brought up to date. You could have put this on TOTP in the 80s and it wouldn’t sound in the slightest out of place.
But this is just me – and other people of a similar age -, the thing is that for most of you – our readers – the fact that to me it sounds so 80s won’t be of much consequence. All you’re probably interested in is whether it sounds any good. And it sounds killer people, whether you’re going to sit and listen to it or do a wonderfully angular dance to it, it sounds so so good.
The playing and the production is absolutely fab. The fact that it was put together during lockdown in various basements and bedrooms – I’m assuming with not that much contact between band members – is just amazing. The production is as slick as.
Get on this now. It’s a fantastic song.
The info
Ladybower are from Sheffield.
Jack Clinch – Bass
George Davis – Drums and Percussion
Joe Gausden – Vocals/Guitar/Keys
During lockdown Leeds’ band Restless Youth have released a series of singles – four in total so far. If Restless Youth are new to you they play what they refer to as ‘Modern Folk’.
They play in whatever style fits the song, this could be described as quirky (a word they don’t appear to have a problem with) but it’s quirky in a good way. Basically, it comes down to this, if they couldn’t play in different styles then it wouldn’t work; it would be quirky and bad, a mere novelty. The fact is that Restless Youth (RY) are clearly talented musically, and can play in those different styles; make it quirky in a good way, a very good way. And I like a band who mix it up, as long as there’s something there that holds all the styles together, that says ‘this is XXX band’s music’; then it’s all good.
‘The Empty Fields’
The style here is that hip-hop thing. A female vocal alternating with ‘rap’ sections. I say ‘rap’ because RY’s style of rap sounds a little like a public schoolboy doing rap. And I’d better say that this isn’t a bad thing, the style fits the words which are more spoken word than rap. Look just ignore that ‘public schoolboy’ thing OK, I know what I mean but it may not be immediately clear to you. It’s not in any way, shape or form a criticism.
Musically it’s absolutely brilliant. There’s a tune that bores into your head. The music is sweet, so sweet. Chopped piano, clever sparse drumming.
‘Man On Call Lane’
This takes the form of ‘The Empty Fields’ – the female vocal and spoken sections – but uses something Nu-Soul in style (Neo-Soul? Is there a difference? Answers on a postcard please). It’s soul-y and jazzy anyway. And crucially is up there musically with other bands who are exclusively Nu-Soul.
This song is obviously rooted in Leeds. It takes the name of the series as it’s theme, explaining that we’re not alone because we are all the same. The words take the form of a story about meeting a man on Call Lane. And it’s great, the words are great. Yep, you might need to listen to the song a few times, there are a lot of words, but it’s so worth that effort.
‘Purple, Orange and Blue’
This is a song ‘I wrote for my mum’. It actually says this right at the start of the track. In contrast to the first two songs in the series this is a gentle piano led ballad with frankly angelic (male) vocals. It sounds like something out of the past, I’m placing it in the 40s EXCEPT there is a short spoken section.
I have to be honest here, the song chokes me up. It’s moving, emotional and painfully honest. It addresses the issue of how young men can’t communicate with their mothers. It sounds so personal, it feels like you are listening to a conversation between the singer and his mother. And it ends with a spoken ‘I love you’.
I think it’s something we (that’s men obviously) can all relate to. It left me regretting various points of my own relationship with my mother, and realising that there were things I should have said and didn’t, but can’t now because it’s too late.
This is beautiful.
‘Politics and Apples’
This takes the style of a string backed hip-hop like thing. But it’s strange and bizarre. It starts with the sounds of a railway station. In that spoken word style it tells the story of sitting next to a woman on the train who’s eating an apple in a really strange way. And there’s a twist in tale.
It reminds me of a Bozo Dog song in some ways. It has that quirky comment on a person that some of their songs had. The problem is that try as I might I have failed to see a connection between apples and politics..This is obviously a very personal problem, it’s not a problem with the track. I did muse that there might be some connection between the way we eat apples and our politics – I can be like that. In fact I even put this to my helpful friend. She basically told me not to worry and just enjoy the song. She was somewhat blunt about that to be honest.
So there you go. Four songs with great music and great words. No, more than great words. These go beyond mere lyrics, this is spoken word poetry – with the exception of ‘Purple, Orange & Blue’ obviously.The tracks paint pictures of life as we know it but from a different and interesting angle. And until I got to ‘Purple, Orange & Blue’ I thought I had the band pegged, that threw me bigtime. ‘Politics and Apples’ threw me again. But I like that, I like a band who can do that to me.
Do I have a favourite, no they are all fantastic but they suit different moods. I was moved by all of the songs in different ways, they all made me think. Musically they are absolutely fab – accomplished and not at all quirky.
And to answer that question I posed earlier in the review, there is something that says ‘Yes, this is Restless Youth’s music’ across all the tracks. Great words, great playing, a way of tackling issues, incidents and life in words. They call it ‘modern folk’ I call it ‘thoughtful music for thinking people’.
The info
The band say:
Formed by an assortment of quirky students in Leeds, Restless Youth is a unique and youthful band, aiming to tell meaningful stories of modern life. Bored of the monotonous trappings of
genre-obsessed music, RY explore whatever infectious styles best serve what they have to say (and trust us, like many students after one too many ciders, they have A LOT to say).
After receiving incredible receptions on the indie scenes of Leeds and Glastonbury, the band have begun their most ambitious endeavor yet – the You’re Not Alone project. A series of 5 singles, telling 5 stories in 5 styles, anchored in human connection (and also apples).
I love it, no I adore it, when a band leaves me somewhat mind blown, speechless and confused to the point when I have to check two or three times that I’m actually playing the right songs.
And this was very much the case with this EP from Huddersfield based punk band Persian Rug Sale. I was expecting something that would leave me breathless and sweaty from thrashing around my front room. I wasn’t expecting what I heard.
What I heard was a set of sometimes wistful always witty songs about love that are in no way shape or form riotous, with sweet sweet tunes. And yes, I know, the EP is called ‘Love Songs’ but, hey, you can get sweaty riotous songs about love. Now Jack – the singer and writer – has form in this. He did this with his last band Dead Fairy, recording stuff that is nothing like what you’ve heard from the band before at all.
And before I go on, there is a twist. This is that Jack has his particular way of singing which is slightly loose with a punky edge. And at times it kinda reminds me of Eddie Tudor-Pole of Tenpole Tudor fame.
So the EP opens with ‘Look Back On Today’. A song that has something of a sixties pop song feel to it. Comes with great great words – Jack writes fantastic words, he has this way with rhymes that just makes you smile.
It has, let’s call them ragged, backing vocals that at times sound frankly random. But this, my friends, is part of the charm of the song. The playing is loose, almost too loose, but you somehow know that this is all entirely the way the band wanted it. Strangely I was reminded of the occasional ballads that one of my fav bands from way back – Hanoi Rocks – used to do. They had this feel of a singalong in a bar.
So the opening track had me charmed, left smiling the widest smile. Let’s go further.
‘Fallen’ continues that sixties feel with something of a country edge at times. Bizarre I know but it works so well. Jack’s vocals do things that no vocal should do, acoustics strum. It is a punk pathetique ballad, if you get what I mean. The words are brilliant and tell the story of somebody who’s fallen in love already but isn’t sure his preferred partner will fall for him. They’re witty but at the same time heartfelt.
‘Reach You’ starts quietly and builds into one of those big ballads. Sweet sweet guitar. I am once again left speechless. Jack’s vocals are frankly indescribable. Let’s just say this is not just singing, it’s a total performance. In form and feel it has me thinking back to ‘All About Love’, one of my favourite songs by Peter & The Test Tube Babies
The EP closer – ‘Before You Go’ – is more restrained. It has, of all things, a folky edge. It is a joy. Simple as that.
Now, I have to address, let’s call it the elephant in the room. You may on first listen perhaps consider whether these songs are meant to be taken seriously. Whether there is an element of novelty and these are funny songs that are meant to be laughed at.
I say no. The words are sometimes witty. But that’s how Jack writes songs. The music and vocal delivery may sound like we’re not supposed to be taking them seriously. BUT my touchstone for this is ‘Jilted John’, a song that was funny but also spoke true emotions, just in that punky kind of way.
When Jack asked me whether I could review this, he said that he thought I’d like the songs. He’s wrong, I love them, and I love them more the more I listen to them, the more I’m addicted to them. This is a band who just do their own brilliant thing, and do it wonderfully.
Recent winner of the Rising Star accolade in the 2020 Folking Awards, Burnell is an extraordinary talent, seemingly with his own musical time machine – able to teleport listeners back into a rich, retro past or into a bold, other-worldly future.
A highly original songwriter and multi-instrumentalist – from his trademark Hammond organ to acoustic guitar, accordion, mellotron, synths and a Steinway grand – the York based performer is adept at conjuring up vast, layered theatrical soundscapes and moodscapes as well as simpler, starker, equally captivating arrangements.
Together with his six-piece band he has become a festival favourite with a growing reputation as one of the most exciting and innovative acts on the scene, never afraid to push the boundaries.
Born in the Haute-Savoie in France, Burnell’s music has been described as ‘folk baroque ‘n’ roll’. It is a heady brew from a melting pot of genres – English folk, prog, contemporary classical and vintage pop-rock.
Joshua started making waves with his 2016 ‘fantasy epic’ ‘Into the Green’. The ambitious ‘Seasons’ project saw him release a folk-rock arrangement of a traditional song or tune every week for a year leading to the critically acclaimed ‘Songs from the Seasons’ album in 2018 which he followed up a year later with folk-rock odyssey ‘The Road to Horn Fair’.
‘Flowers Where The Horses Sleep’ sees him returning to original songwriting. He says: “Having dedicated the past three years to rearranging traditional material, I wanted to build on that experience to produce an album of folk songs for a modern audience.”
Recorded and mixed just before the world went into Covid-19 lockdown, the 10-track album has a pertinent theme. Says Josh: “The songs were all inspired by people, past and present and explore humankind’s remarkable ability to find beauty, even in the hardest of times.”
He alighted on the album title after listening to a moving podcast in a series called Family Ghosts. A Japanese-American woman who had been interned in a U.S. concentration camp during WW2 told how the prisoners, forced to live in stables, grew flowers to bring a touch of beauty into the ugly reality of their days.
With all music and lyrics written and arranged by Burnell, he is joined by Frances Sladen on lead and backing vocals, Nathan Greaves on electric guitar, Katriona Gilmore on fiddle and mandolin , Paul Young on melodeon, Oliver Whitehouse on electric bass, Tom Mason on electric and upright bass and Edward Simpson, who also mixed the album, on bass drum.
The Calls have released their new single, ‘I Just Thought I’d Say’. This song has a beautiful melody, whilst being melancholic and reflective, lamenting on the state of the world and tapping into a feeling that a lot of people share where the anger has turned into a sad resignation.
“The video reflects the song,” explains singer Tom Fuller, “by depicting me living in the back of my van in isolation, trying to escape the chaos of the times.”
The accompanying, poignant video was created by lead guitarist Will Johnson. “It takes a nomadic perspective of the world,” he explains, “balancing the vastly different lives and stories of people, told through old home movies, with the current state of affairs and the divisions borne out of modern-day censorship of opinion.”
The Calls are a proudly DIY band who write, record and rehearse all their music in a converted barn and travel around in an old window cleaner’s van. The band are driven by the unconventional songwriting of Tom Fuller, who puts an introspective slant on social observations through cryptic wordplay and subtle use of metaphor; lead guitarist Will Johnson, a film maker and visual artist whose unrestrained and often highly unusual sound is due to the fact that, remarkably, he had never picked up a guitar before joining; and bassist Marcell Haslewood, a lifeguard finding his way through life via a combination of ambience and dub, and a unique approach to playing that regularly subverts expectations.
But first, this is DENSE’s debut EP. Yes, at last, I know. Presenting their music as a ‘chunk’ of four songs goes some way towards ‘replicating’ seeing and hearing them live. It shows how the individual songs build, how the power of the songs collectively is much, much more, than the sum of their individual power. By all means single out one track or another, but the full effect can only be gained from playing all the tracks in the order the band have put them in. Bands do that for a reason, OK?
You may think that having heard ‘Electric Chair’ – and if you haven’t, why, why in the fuck not – you have a handle on the general feel of the EP as a whole. Well actually no, and at the same time yes.
You may recall that I described ‘Electric Chair’ as having a punky edge to that psychedelic garage. Or perhaps something more garage-y than psychedelic. The other tracks on the EP mix it up, throw in other stuff.
‘Calcium’, the opening track, does that psych-garage thing, until suddenly it turns into something rowdier, the vocals shout and scream in a way that keeps reminding me of old-style punk. Before the track drops out in something that is way more psychedelic, something with a whiff of space-rock, something that takes me back to my youth sitting cross-legged listening to Hawkwind. And then it winds back up again, gradually, gradually to a maelstrom of sound. It has that one period of respite, other than some periods of respite. This is the surprise.
The space in this track, as dense as the sound gets, is wonderful. You can hear everything. There is just the wonderful bass in the latter half of this track, bass that I have become obsessed with.
‘Dread’ throws in just the merest hint of post-punk doom, a dash of something I’m going to call surf-punk, a pinch of Devo. The power of this thing is scary, it is frankly terrifying. Quiet periods – you understand I use the word quiet merely to describe the calmer sections – make way for brutal noise, shouted vocals, guitar that frankly wounds. The sound comes at you like hammer blows, it sounds like chaos, at points it is, but that chaos is deceptive, there is structure.
It provokes dread, it epitomises dread. Listening to this track is scary.
In the way this EP is put together ‘Electric Chair’ comes as a relief. The relative calm of the track let’s your mind relax. As I said in my review, this song has a tune. Yes, it builds up and drops out. It builds to wonderful guitar sounds, sounds that roar, sounds that jar. Clearly the topic of the song isn’t smoothing but somehow musically it is it.
‘Cleanse/Despair’ starts with a bass, a bass that’s so quiet you might be tempted to turn up the volume. Don’t do this, I did, and I think I probably woke up the whole street. Because suddenly this track bursts into waves of extraordinary sound, wonderful sonic battering of your ears and brain.
It does this repeatedly, each time the sounds that come after the bass are different, they riff hard, they build to a point of sonic pain. But the thing about this track is that it’s mesmerising those quiet bass sections give you a few moments of peace but you know that the waves of sound are coming, those dense waves of beautiful noise.
I guess, just to follow reviewer convention, that I should say something about the playing and the production. The playing doesn’t disappoint – the guitar is taken to places that are hard to believe, the bass provides so much more than just the rhythm and the drumming is relentless and inventive. Musically it’s so much more than the sum of its parts. But at the same time the production allows you to hear those parts, in all that denseness there is space to hear the band individually.
I’ve always said that each and every DENSE track is different, that each track has its own musical feel, while at the same time being obviously music made by them. If you were unsure about this then this EP proves that. Each song is a journey, there is a journey across the four songs. It is a trip through time and space, mood and emotion.
The info
‘The Empty Fields’
‘Man On Call Lane’
In the way this EP is put together ‘Electric Chair’ comes as a relief. The relative calm of the track let’s your mind relax. As I said in my review, this song has a tune. Yes, it builds up and drops out. It builds to wonderful guitar sounds, sounds that roar, sounds that jar. Clearly the topic of the song isn’t smoothing but somehow musically it is it.