I'm With You- Red Hot Chili Peppers

Twenty-eight years, ten albums and one new guitarist- all adds up to Californian coasting

What exactly do you do when the band member credited with not one but two creative rebirths in your history leaves for good? It’s a question that the Red Hot Chili Peppers are hoping to answer as Anthony Kiedis, Chad Smith and Flea are joined by new axeman Josh Klinghoffer.

With John Frusciante seemingly tired of playing the kind of venues an album title like Stadium Arcadium suggests, the remaining members surely ignored all sane advice at time to continue, bringing in Klinghoffer, bizarrely a former collaborator on the elder’s solo work. The advantage is that it lowers expectations after the gargantuan double Arcadium, and thankfully the band don’t disappoint at this level: they just don’t surpass what was expected.

It all starts well enough- “Monarchy Of Roses” opens with garage squalling noise, then set against an airbrushed, keyboard-drenched chorus- it’s a wonderful musical oxymoron. It also highlights the improvement in Kiedis’ voice after appear to give up the ghost completely after the last tour’s Reading finale. He sounds reenergised and ready to go, despite his still-woeful approach to lyric writing (“Did I Let You Know” finds him actually using the word “Mozambique-y” to rhyme with “cheeky”). It's he who soars on the likes of “Annie Wants A Baby” and the soulful and damaged “Meet Me At The Corner”.

Flea also hits something of a purple patch too, taking the reigns with his four strings to an almost megalomaniac level. He shows far more songwriting maturity with his new instrument of choice, piano. Having gone away to learn his craft properly, his playing isn’t about to rival Matt Bellamy, but it adds a deep, atmospheric dynamic to the latter half of the record, allowing slower tracks like Police Station to really fizz. Best of all is the much-discussed Brendan’s Death Song, a tribute to the late promoter who won the band an essential early gig. It slowly builds from nothing, and completes the band’s transition from socked-cocks frat boys to the fathers and husbands they’ve become. All four members mesh perfectly, and it stands as one of the band’s most personal, emotional songs since Under The Bridge caught onto something in the air in 1991.

Just from that there’s enough to justify their continuation, it’s just a shame everything else is so utterly bland. The likes of “Dance, Dance, Dance”, “Ethiopia” and single “The Adventures Of Rain Dance Maggie” are bloodless and serious, free of the fun that powered them through their occasional lack of real musicianship. At the other end of the scale, “Happiness Loves Company” is almost sickeningly jaunty, both problems mean that it never really feels like a Chilis album.

Which brings us to the white elephant in the studio: Josh Klinghoffer. His experimental take of stadium guitars is certainly a welcome move, and when he reveals a real riff, it’s knocked out of the park. But all too often it sounds like he noodling away to himself in a completely different room to the others. All too often his guitars squeal along on their own on the likes of “Even You, Brutus?” and just does not work.

All of which leads to a sense of a new beginning, it’s directionless nature suggesting a debut album if they weren’t one of the biggest bands in the world. If Klinghoffer can reign in his avant-garde tendancies, then they could still be “with” us for a while to come.

3/5

Best Tracks:
Brendan's Death Song
Meet Me At The Corner
Monarchy Of Roses

Suck It And See- Arctic Monkeys

Far from a return to their roots, album number four finds Turner & co pushing forward.

In a recent interview, Alex Turner described his Arctic Monkeys’ in three words: “Riffs, funny, loud.” As disparaging a representation of their smart, dark indie rock that may be, it’s clearly what his audience are looking for. Many fans were turned off by the brave, far-catchier-than-you-remember third album Humbug, which found idol Josh Homme of Queens Of The Stone Age doping up the impressionable Sheffield lads, engulfing them in a thick, paranoid fog.

Wherever you stand on the Humbug debate, the “funny” bit of the equation was missing. So there has been plenty of excited chatter leading up to naughty-titled follow up Suck It And See, the band’s reunion with Favourite Worst Nightmare producer James Ford suggested as a return to the sharp riffs and witty observation of their breakthrough material.

As it turns out, and to the band’s credit, this isn’t quite true. Instead, Homme still lingers over the record’s first half, but Ford blows a cold wind, clearing the mist and bringing everything into sharper focus. Nowhere is this clearer than on first single “Don’t Sit Down ‘Cause I’ve Moved Your Chair”. Despite it being slightly lead-footed in places, it’s packed with riffs that swim to dark places. It carries a certain swagger and confidence missing from Humbug, as well as a bubblegum-with-razorblades “ooh-ooh” refrain and lyrics just our to have fun, dispensing advice like “go into business with a grizzly bear” and “wear your shell suit on bonfire night”.

It’s a starting point though, and other songs rock far more convincingly. Brick By Brick is the most balls-to-the-wall track, drummer Matt Helders helming a beautifully dumb one-chord race to the finish line. Library Pictures is even better, tribal drums and feedback brought to the front, Turner relishing his chance to show off some full-blooded “ip-dip-dog-shit-rock-and-roll”.

As exciting as those songs are, it’s the softer moments that stand tallest, cribbing some of the more cerebral and romantic moves from Alex Turner’s Submarine soundtrack. “The Hellcat Spangled Shalalala” is ideal for the next single, a soft-focus singalong, with that title (and oh what song titles!) circling for the big sing-a-long chorus. All My Own Stunts punches giddy highs in the chorus, before racing back down like a rollercoaster, while Piledriver Waltz is as lovely and woozy as the title suggests. Love Is A Laserquest is a piece of near-genius, with Turner’s words at their most poetic, looking back at a childhood romance gone sour (“I’m sure you’re still breaking hearts/With the efficiency that only youth can harness.”), while his voice across the record is nuanced and lilting, in quieter moments sounding like a harder-bitten Morrissey.

It’s not quite killer enough to avoid filler- the title track for one is forgettable (save the lyric “You’re rarer than a can of dandelion and burdock”)- but the new romantic side to the band is quite a revelation. Far from a so-called return to form, Suck It And See finds the Monkeys refusing to rest on their laurels, pushing forward rather than looking back to previous successes. And for that, they should be celebrated.

4/5

Best Tracks:
Love Is A Laserquest
Piledriver Waltz
Library Pictures
The Hellcat Spangled Shalalala

Bon Iver- Bon Iver

Justin Vernon emerges back into the world, blinking in the sunlight

Kanye West may be many things, but no one- be it celebrators or detractors- could call him subtle. He deals in bombast, be it simply rapping over a Daft Punk song and then releasing it as a single or cavorting at the Brits with 50 gold-plated ladies.

But towards the end of his acclaimed last album, something very odd happens. Suddenly away from the bragging and self-indulgence, the heavily-autotuned-but-still-heavily-recognisable voice of Bon Iver front man looms large (or quiet, as is his style). It’s not all that effective, but it’s the bizarre endpoint of a slow-and-steady Earth swallowing two years in the making.

Bon Iver’s first album For Emma, Forever Ago was a critical monster, rightly lauded as a masterpiece. So how do you follow it up? Well, Vernon’s answer seems to initially be go 80s. Despite the baulking that may induce, with the exception of the woeful final track Beth/Rest (a horrible, Jennifer Rush-styled ballads, complete with an unbearable drum machine backing), this just means infusing everything with a beautiful keyboard wash.

This then, is the yin to For Emma...’s yang. Where the former was lost in despair and gut-wrenching regret, the eponymous follow-up is the sound of a man emerging from the wood cabin For Emma...was written is and quite literally rediscovering the outside world. Rather than just use them to fill in the blanks, Vernon has employed his band as full collaborators, making the sound less intimate than before, but no less warm, and filled with sheer warmth.

The difference is immediately clear. Opener “Perth” spreads out in the earlobes, the synth wash utterly reassuring. Here and on the wonderful “Holocene”, brushes tap out a gentle military beat, just enough to give the album a forward momentum not previously possible, while Vernon himself really tests where he can take that emotion-packed voice of his. Across the record, it’s less affected then ever, no longer shyly disguised but brought front-and-centre. “Minnesota, WI” and Hinnom, TX (yep, all the titles are named after places important to the band, further extending that personal touch) find that voice even venturing lower in the register, revealing a powerful baritone burr hitherto unheard.

As nice as the sonic warm glow is, it does occasionally have the effect of losing individual high points- it’s an overall masterpiece rather than leaving songs stuck in your head for days. Lead-off single Calgary is the exception as the best thing on offer, shuffling along before bursting wide open in its glorious, soaring chorus.

On For Emma...Justin Vernon managed the most amazing thing, breaking stony hearts both critical and public across the globe. For the follow-up, he clearly set himself the target of gluing them back together. Thanks to this album’s intense joyful power, it’s something he’s achieved with ease.

5/5
Best Tracks:
Calgary
Holocene
Perth
Minnesota, WI

Beach Break Live (Pembrey, South Wales, 17/06/11)

Student festival aims high for fifth year. A little too high

It’s not really been a great start, has it? Last weekend, Isle of Wight kicked off the festival season proper with what can only be described as a monsoon. And now a week before Glasto, Beach Break Live isn’t really helping the ominous feeling that we're not going to have a dry festival season 2011.

In the sunshine, Pembrey in South Wales is a stunning arena-endless beaches Philip Larkin wrote of to the south, towering hills to the north, but for three quarters of the 2011 vintage, a vast grey wet wash sits over proceedings. Not that anyone’s bothered- the young, drunk atmosphere starts from about midday Friday, as students leave the last year and tuition fee worries behind.

The first thing noticeable about this year is the sheer size of the thing. Only 20,000 of our nation’s youth are here, meaning early afternoon performances across the site feel like some vast unexplored chasm Lara Croft might find herself in (the brilliant Club Tropicana tent suffers most thanks to a core student audience uninterested in beyond the mainstream). First to get something resembling a gathering is Ed Sheeran on Friday- bright, young and ginger, and seemingly discovered by the mainstream the week before with his sudden chart success. It’s his first festival slot, so he’s clearly nervous at the start. But by the half way stage, the crowd are transfixed by his acoustic intensity.

Professor Green and Tinie Tempah bring a more urban flavour to the Friday night. The Professor’s “Just Be Good To Green” is the first sing-a-long, heard ringing around the site, while Tinie reminds the audience that this is his first headline slot. It shows too- his charm and interaction wins the day, but he doesn’t have all the required material to escape troughs during weaker album tracks. However the peaks outweigh this, and his live band gives him superb support.

On to Saturday, the more stable weather conditions seem to buoy the crowd, and festival-fixtures We Are Scientists are on fearsome form. They’re reunited with I Am Arrows man Andy Burrows behind the kit, who still gives them something extra. Despite having fourth album Barbara with us for nearly two years now, it’s still the songs from 2005 breakthrough With Love and Squalor that get the biggest reaction.

Example, atop the charts that week, gets a huge response, yet he still needs to work on his pop star charisma, with his set failing to gel properly until near the conclusion; even he accepts he had to get his “shit songs” out the way first. White Lies do a better job: the big screens are set to monochrome, and songs from both of their albums just sound huge live. Nero, Shy FX and Subfocus provide the afterparty in the oft-cavernous Merlin tent with a hedonistic triple-header.

The ground beneath the young students’ feet was finally baked on Sunday with the appearance of a strange orange globe in the sky. Competition winner Charlotte Carpenter started the day, showcasing songwriting beyond her tender years, while blues band Milk blew any hangover cobwebs away.

Jamie Woon was the first to get a big response, despite the evening atmospherics of his music sounding odd in the blazing sun. More suited to the meteorological conditions was Newton Faulkner, still drawing much interest at these things despite dwindling album sales. Its obvious why: his audience skills are extraordinary, proving to be funny, warm and relaxed, helping to maintain intimacy. His slightly scary version of “Bohemian Rhapsody” needs to be heard to be believed.

From there, an evening of main stage dubstep-pop beckons with Katy B and Magnetic Man. Oddly, both headliners perform their dual hit “Passing Stranger” separately with no reference to the other artist. Ignoring this, Katy B is a huge disappointment. She’s clearly exhausted and her usual people skills are absent as she fails to get the crowd moving. That’s something Magnetic Man’s hype-man has no problem’s achieving, really bringing the set to life. Their show as a whole though doesn’t quite work, as the three DJ haven’t yet found a way to make the dance sub-genre work on this sort of scale. Mark Ronson provides the ice-cool after party DJ set in the Merlin.

Despite managing some big coups this year, Beach Break Live still has a lot to learn as a festival. After five years, organisers are still surfing a wave of student goodwill. The tiny (for a festival) attendance just can’t justify to huge number of tents, and scaling back would really help the atmosphere and help them become a major name. For now, here’s to sunnier climates in 2012.

3/5

On A Mission- Katy B

Dubstep everygirl’s anything-but-ordinary debut...

Undoubtedly, British music finds itself in one of the lowest troughs it’s been in a while. It’s all cyclical of course- things we as depressing in the early years of the century before Libertines, Ferdinands et al put us back on the map.

When trying to spot where we’re all headed, you could place a worse bet than dubstep being the genre to push forward with. Last year, genre pioneers Skream, Benga and Artwork created their Magnetic Man and took it to the top of the chart, and now their young protégée is hoping to do the same.

Katy Brien has even more crossover appeal. To start with, it’s not really dubstep- there’s a nice bass-end in places, and the atmosphere is pure night-time- but it’s all streamlined with pop hooks to make the often daunting club genre a little more palatable for the more casual listener. And in this instance, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that as On A Mission is packed with wall-to-wall gems.

Title track Katy On A Mission is already familiar, becoming ubiquitous on daytime radio at the end of last year, and for the start of the record, Katy is a tower of strength: ...Mission along with Power On Me and Witches’ Brew showcase a confident, intelligent young woman not to be messed with, the latter especially with its seductive rhythm and brass-assisted chorus.

That’s all well and good, but the second half of the albums becomes a little more interesting, moving into the shade. The likes of Lights On (with Ms Dynamite shuffling on like someone’s mad aunty bizarrely) and Magnetic Man-backed Perfect Stranger maintain the confidence, but it’s tracks like Go Away and Broken Record that show another side of Brien- less sure of herself, slightly damaged, and lost in the harmonies of the former.

As On A Mission brings dubstep-pop fully into the mainstream, a few of the steps falter. Movement, for one, brings in latin vibes and though Katy’s voices manages the sudden leap to sexy, the backing production ends up a little too close to some sort of lounge act. Final track Hard To Get is also disappointment, showing dubstep’s history coming out of early 00s jungle and garage in a toe-curling manner.

Despite this, Katy B’s debut’s job to show the first glimmering embers of a new start for British music is a runaway success. Expect these songs to continue to be everywhere this summer.

4/5

Best Tracks:
Katy On A Mission
Broken Record
Just Go Away
Witches’ Brew

What Did You Expect From The Vaccines?- The Vaccines

Fat-free but shallow debut from indie’s “saviours”

Let’s get something straight: alternative music is not dead. You can hold off the wake, but away the black armband, because there’s still enough of it around to fight against cynical naysayers.

Music in this country comes and goes in waves and always has done- just because pop is the ascendency in the mainstream doesn’t mean others aren’t catered for. Dubstep continues to look like the future for British music, and let us not forget the only act to break Adele’s momentous run at the album chart summit were a rock band...

We’ve also been here before. For a while in the early 00s, OK Computer looked to be the last great alternative album, before The Strokes punched through, ushering in Libertines, Monkeys and Bloc Parties.

And it’s The Strokes that The Vaccines find themselves rather presumptuously compared to: the new white hope to bring guitars back to the chart. There's a point there in many ways, as Vaccines trade is excitable rhythms, uninterested vocals and vaguely angular guitar riffs. But while What Did You Expect...is a fun, life-affirming album in places, it is far from an Is This It masterpiece.

Instead, we get a collection of twelve singles and would-be singles. Opener Wreckin’ Bar (Ra Ra Ra) along with Post Break Up Sex received substantial radio play before the album’s release and it’s unsurprising as the former zooms along at an exhilarating pace. It’s these moments that stand out the most, as the even more hyperactive Norgaard will attest, with added “ooh-ooh-oohs” as the hook. Both clock in at less than two minutes.

On the flipside, the album contains several moments to prevent it being too one-note. The likes of Wetsuit and Blow It Up slow proceedings to a woozy waltz, the latter providing a rarely engaged vocal from singer Justin Young, allowing his voice soar on the chorus. Best of all is the aforementioned Post Break Up Sex, showing the band of as highly effective songwriting, perfectly encapsulating the shame the title suggests.

As a whole, What Did You Expect...provides everything you’d expect from their high playlist value: this is a short, sharp indie-pop album that doesn’t waste a note. But in the quest for chart-bothering singles, it’s all rather transient, without much going on underneath. This album is designed to get you drunk, have a messy time with you then leave in the morning never to be seen again: it’s not going to make scores of teenagers pick up guitars and start bands, and it leaves a guilty feeling afterwards, but boy is it fun while it lasts.

4/5

Best Tracks:
Post Break Up Sex
Norgaard
Wreckin’ Bar (Ra Ra Ra)
Blow It Up

Mirrorwriting- Jamie Woon

Great voice fails to deliver on crossover promise

Ten years on from its inception in underground clubs, dubstep’s grip on inner-city youth is complete. Magnetic Man and their associated acts are edging the genre to the top of the charts, whilst feted artists like Katy B and James Blake have given us two great fringe records. Now Jamie Woon is set to give us a third...

Except he hasn’t. It’s barely even dubstep.

It’s all the fault of single Night Air, released earlier this year. It’s high on sensual atmospherics and produced by leading-light Burial, haunting and lingering as it moves, upping the stakes for dubstep to try something fresh. Beyond that, this is just a forgettable soul album.

What isn’t second rate is Woon’s voice- one of the most beautiful, soulful and unaffected male sounds to bother the charts in recent times. His heartbreaking lament to opportunities missed on Sorta is gorgeous, and shows why he gathered plaudits to begin with. The rest of the album’s songs just don’t match him. Middle has a great string arrangement at its core, but an overly fussy and clinical production spoils it, while songs like Spiral and TMRW sound like they belong on a late-90s R Kelly album; yes, they’re that bad.

The only other song to really have an impact is Lady Luck, an obvious choice for new single, and one that marries a more upbeat Woon vocal with a trippy and dark sampled backing. But you couldn’t call this dubstep.

His stripped-right-down version of Wayfaring Stranger is conspicuous by its absence here, and it’s a real shame: a great version with just that voice with the most simple of support. That kind of approach may have earned more plaudits, but what we’ve been left with will be forgotten the day after hearing it, as no amount of production tricks can hide a rather dull soul record by a great singer.

2.5/5

Best Tracks:
Night Air
Shoulda
Lady Luck

Let England Shake- PJ Harvey

WAR! What is it good for? Here’s your answer...

That Polly Harvey is a strange one.

That’s not meant as a slur on her fiercely guarded personal life or anything like that, more that the creative peak she hit with her 1992 debut Dry has never really ended. From her raw post-punk beginnings through hardcore, goth, polished pop and eerie ballads, every album has been greeted with endless critical acclaim.

She also isn’t one to hang around a successful sound, so she has again swerved dramatically from the creepiness of 2007’s White Chalk in favour of a protest album. Harvey has always had literary allusions in her music, but on her eighth solo album Let England Shake it comes sharply into focus,channelling the spirit of Siegfried Sassoon’s elegant anti-war poetry.

PJ Harvey’s appearance on The Andrew Marr Show last year playing the title track on autoharp in front of Gordon Brown was a brave move that raised many eyebrows, and the album carries the same impact throughout. The conflicts she references (mostly Gallipoli- a conflict she researched in detail when writing- and the First World War) may be long confined to the history books, but it doesn’t take much to realise she’s applying them to more recent wars.

What comes across first is the power of her words: PJ Harvey has succeeded in writing dark, beautiful poetry. The Words That Maketh Murder talk of soldiers falling “like lumps of meat/Blown and shot out beyond belief/Arms and legs were in the trees”, and This Glorious Land argues that war is built into us, as “Our land is ploughed by tanks and feet”. The repeated cries of “Oh America/Oh England” in the chorus make it clear who these words are aimed at.

Despite the brutal and horrific words, this is an album filled with subtlety. It’s protest music that doesn’t rage like...well, Rage Against The Machine, the anger that is audible is bubbling under the surface, only really breaking through in the spat lyrics of Bitter Branches. Everywhere else, it’s extremely English in its reserve: it’s there, but it isn't shouted to be heard.

Let England Shake is also an album shrouded in atmosphere, thanks in part to Harvey’s discovery of the autoharp- an instrument that manages to be somehow delicate and be filled with power at the same time. There’s no need for choirs or orchestras to sound like a stampeding army: it does it on its own. The instrument is most keenly felt on the title track, as Harvey’s voice quivers softly as she sings that “England’s dancing days are done.” Elsewhere, Written On The Forehead uses soft reggae rhythms to explore the impact of war on civilians to damning effect, whilst the heartbreaking Hanging In The Wire and its quiet piano lines are filled with the ghosts of lives lost in warfare.

Credit has to go to her band too, including long-time collaborator John Parish, who help to infuse that atmosphere through the record. But really, Let England Shake stands as PJ Harvey’s masterpiece thanks to her words, which are utterly extraordinary. It’s an album that haunts, revealing itself slowly over time, as all great art should. This is one of those once-in-a-generation albums that will leave an imprint on future decades, it’s really that good. This is year zero for the future of protest music.

5/5

Best Tracks:

The Words That Maketh Murder
Let England Shake
Written On The Forehead
The Glorious Land
Hanging In The Wire

Last Night On Earth- Noah & The Whale

What happens when Nu-Folkers forget the folk...

What a difference a day makes. Or, in the case of Noah & The Whale, make that 928. That was the gap between their sophomore The First Days of Spring and their new record. It marks quite a shift- the former a heartbreaking, self-destructive lament to a lost relationship (that of frontman Charlie Fink and Laura Marling), high on fiddle and rich in strings, and definitely in the nu-folk club.

Only one concession to those darker moods can be found on new album Last Night On Earth. The Line chronicles the combustible end of a relationship (“Is this the line where you get drunk and yell?”) in low key fashion. Everything else finds NATW as the next band who decide they need to revisit the FM AOR from the 70s and 80s.

Alarm bells ring from the opening, with Life Is Life’s introduction featuring washes of synths and popping finger clicks that leave you feeling like you’ve accidentally put on an Enya record. The strained warmth of Fink’s voice soon catapults in to save the situation, but the damage has been wrought.

Tonight’s The Kind Of Night doesn’t greatly improve the situation by following the same pattern. Last Night On Earth really hits its stride with first single L.I.F.E.G.O.E.S.O.N- the song whose chorus will have found its way into your brain on repeat in recent months. The album’s lyrical themes of hope against adversity are all present and correct, with tales of “rock and roll survivors” such as Lisa, nicknamed “little Lisa, Loony Tunes/She went down on almost anyone”- people who’ve seen hard times, but who always recite the song’s title to get through. It’s a slightly cheesy idea done very well, with a swirling pop hook backing it all up.

The same can be said of Give It All Back, which manages to be memorable and lovely despite cloying self-referential lyrics about the formation of a band playing “a cover of Don’t Let Me Down” at school assembly, and marimba. The real gold is found at the end of the record: the aforementioned The Line, darkly drifting across the soul, before the hugely uplifting showcase that is Old Joy. A mood accompaniment to L.I.F.E.G.O.E.S.O.N, with added gospel choir, unironic and straight-faced enough to avoid pastiche.

Refusing to re-work the same ground covered in the past, Noah & The Whale must be praised for their determination to make three distinct, individual albums. However, the Tom Petty-meets-pop-sheen does varnish away many of the awkward edges that made them stand out as something impressive to begin with, and the near absence of Tom Hobden’s fiddle is a great shame. Despite this, Last Night On Earth, at its best, does what great music should by altering and affecting mood, this standing as one of the most uplifting records in recent times.

Just next time, can we just leave the 80s where they are please?

3/5

Best Tracks:
Old Joy
L.I.F.E.G.O.E.S.O.N
The Line

Angles- The Strokes

New Yorkers fail to reverse career decline on their fourth

2011 finds The Strokes in a strange place. Topping endless “best of the decade” lists last year with endlessly influential debut Is This It, two lacklustre follow ups leave the question posed on said album seem even more appropriate. After nearly half a decade away, the New Yorkers need Angles to be a masterpiece.

So is this the album to improve The Strokes’ fortunes? In a word, no. For any other band, this would be a half decent return, but the weight of expectation has dented its impact, in a depressingly inevitable way.

Moments of greatness are still in evidence. First single Under Cover Of Darkness is a bold attempt to recapture the thrill and rush of their early singles- Julian Casablancas singing in his trademark sarcastic drawl, as the guitar work of Nick Valensi and Albert Hammond Jr scorch the earth. Opener Machu Picchu also does well to set the scene: bright, exciting and full of fire, with Casablancas’ talking of a “mountain to climb”. You’re telling us...

The opener is also an indication of the newest element on show: synths. Clearly influenced by the pop electronic work of Casablancas’ quietly brilliant solo debut, it means that rather predictably, the 80s are in. While they imported the keyboards, they’ve clearly left behind the soul and lust for life, as songs like Games and Two Kinds of Happiness feel like hollow and tired impressions of that era. You’re So Right is worst of the lot- a droning, low-key and forgettable dirge.

The new moves pay off on two tracks: Taken For A Fool marries up the new elements nicely: the band finally sound engaged and it’s filled with a seemingly endless array of indie-pop hooks. Call Me Back brings it all down to a more introspective level, a simple sound masking unsettling backing vocals and surprisingly complex arrangements.

Julian Casablancas has always sounded bored, which against the tightly wound guitars and drums is part of what made The Strokes great . But for the first time, the rest of the band has a degree of listlessness too. Personal disagreements that have been well documented do explain why they sound so bereft of ideas. It goes little way to help them in a year that their clearest acolytes The Vaccines have put indie back on the map. The Strokes really needed to pull it out the bag. For the most part, Angles fails to deliver.

2/5

Best Tracks:
Machu Picchu
Call Me Back
Under Cover Of Darkness

Wounded Rhymes- Lykke Li

None blacker for Scandanavian chentuese’s second...

In you case you don’t recognise the name; Lykke Li is responsible for one of the best pop debuts in recent memory- 2008’s Youth Novels. However, coming to prominence at the same time as fellow Swede Robyn meant Li’s brand of sweet and edgy pop failed to make an impact of the wider public.

Second time around, Wounded Rhymes is everything a great sophomore effort should be: darker, more mature and willing to explore new territory. Out go the coquettish and coy lyrics, leaving behind the more throwaway acoustic laments, and in comes deadpan humour, and songs dripping in dead-eyed sex and heartbreak.

Last year’s first taster Get Some was a great omen for Wounded Rhymes. Dark, brooding and intense, it’s beautifully out of step with modern pop trends: far from gleaming, it’s rough and raw. With a powerhouse beat and huge chorus, it’s the song that finds Lykke Li move from girl to woman, reclaiming her sexuality as “your prostitute”.

It’s a big act to live up to, and sadly nothing else on the record quite reaches these dizzying pop heights, but there’s still plenty to savour. Second single I Follow Rivers and opening gambit Youth Knows No Pain show off a new found ambition, with more choruses purpose built for the Radio 1 playlist. Everything else finds the album is shrouded in gloom, and it’s the most downbeat moments that stick in the head the most. Unrequited Love and Sadness Is A Blessing are especially sad, while Jerome and Silent My Song showcase a damaged and hurt person, but one fully in control of her own emotions.

The comparisons to Robyn are perhaps inevitable. Although she shares her nous for a pop song and all-conquering independence, gothic hints and a more earthy version of the hurt bruised sensuality of Kate Bush combine to make Lykke Li an original artist all of her own.

4/5

Best Tracks:
Get Some
Unrequinted Love
Jerome
Sadness Is A Blessing

Wasting Light- Foo Fighters

World’s biggest rock band goes back to basics for career-defining seventh...

For a man who has made a career out of escaping a very large shadow, Dave Grohl has made some odd decisions on Foo Fighters’ latest. Namely, he’s employed the services of three key Nirvana players: touring guitarist Pat Smear has returned full time, Krist Novoselic plays accordion on one track, while behind the desk sits Nevermind producer Butch Vig.

After successfully finding distance and becoming a bonafide rock god at 2008’s Wembley shows, it seems a strange time for Dave Grohl to return to those days. However, Wasting Life isn’t an album about dining out on the past: it’s about accepting it. It’s a shame then that the work of Vig and Novoselic have hogged headlines ahead of release. The big news here really is that this is the best adult hard rock album since Queens Of The Stone Age’s Songs For The Deaf nearly a decade ago, as well as being the most complete Foo Fighters album yet.

Despite unhappy rumblings in the camp in the run up to Wasting Light’s release (mostly over the accompanying documentary Back & Forth), this is the most unified the band have sounded. Dave is still very much leader of the pack, but the return of Pat Smear has clearly had a big impact, as when it wants to rock out, the guitars on Wasting Light are huge. Those disappointed by the lacklustre, disjointed and strangely weightless first single Rope have nothing to worry about as it’s the weakest thing here. Everything else carries real power and strength, without ever quite being the balls-to-the-wall hardcore that was talked up during recording. The only concession to this claim is gleeful screamer White Limo: coming in with big riffs, and throaty vocals- the Foos are having a blast. Bridge Burning is the other big, exhilarating track, and is a wonderful statement of intent: the band are tight, and it stands out a mile in an era lacking big rock anthems.

Elsewhere, the best moments find Grohl opening up as a songwriter. Always afraid to show us the real Dave behind the “nicest man in rock” enigma, posturing is forced out as a mood of often tender reflection bounce off the big guitars. These Days finds Dave in conversation with himself, showing a man plagued by self-doubt and tragedy: “I said it's alright/Easy for you to say”. Dear Rosemary, a duet with Bob Mould from Grohl heroes Husker Du, finds vocals at their most nakedly emotional.

Best of the lot stands as I Should Have Known: a restrained and heartbreaking lament to a friend Grohl lost to overdose in 2008. Novoselic’s appearance on it will raise obvious misinterpretations, but the maturity and emotion in the melodies allow it to rise above this, while it’s lingering regret (“I can not forgive you yet”) make it a definite Everlong beater, and possibly the best song the band have recorded.

It’s far from a perfect album- the usual Foo filler makes an appearance. Tracks like Back & Forth and Arlandria carry pretty McCartney-esque hooks, but amongst other stronger material they come up lacking. Despite this, it’s a powerful album for a band who have always been better at singles. During its best moments, Wasting Light makes you forget the heavy weight of events past that hangs over everything Dave Grohl his done since 1994. Which is probably the whole point anyway.

4/5

Best Tracks:

I Should Have Known

Bridge Burning

Dear Rosemary

White Limo

Different Gear, Still Speeding- Beady Eye

Same as it ever was for Liam & Co...

Well no one saw this coming. For his post-Oasis debut, Gallagher The Younger has gone Dubstep-electro with hints of Radiohead-tinged...

I’m joking obviously.

Different Gear, Still Speeding is exactly what Beady Eye as a band suggests: they sound exactly how Oasis would without the creative grip and songwriting nous of Noel Gallagher. It’s not what you could call a disappointment as such, mostly because it’s so bewildering in its crushing predictability. There’s certainly no attempt to rock the boat of what has already passed.

You’ll know the story of this album’s birth by now: Noel and Liam have one last fight; Noel disappears into the ether to be a father, while his younger sibling takes the rest of the band and attempts to reconnect with his roots.

Liam has painted Beady Eye’s first as an attempt at a version of a fierce debut from a new, young and exciting band. In many ways it’s worked. The whole thing sears with a raw and occasionally contagious energy that would shame bands half their age. This comes through best on two tracks: opening salvo Four Letter Word and piano-rocking Bring the Light. The former is as naughty as its brilliant title suggests, with some rather wonderful guitar work and Liam's Neanderthal snarl as full-bloodied as ever. Bring the Light meanwhile is pure forward momentum, sitting halfway between Paul Weller and Jerry Lee Lewis' piano punch. It’s certainly one of Liam’s best songs- closer to The Meaning of Soul than Little James. That’s as good as it gets though.

Oasis were known for shamelessly ripping off their idols (see Imagine’s piano in Don’t Look Back in Anger, or The Importance of Being Idle’s approximation of Sunny Afternoon), but Beady Eye take it to faintly ridiculous new levels. Instant Karma is lifted wholesale in unremarkable lead single The Roller, whilst Wind Up Dream is pure Let It Bleed-era Stones' creeping darkness. Liam was never the family’s best songwriter either, and he’s in his element here. All words are treated as a necessary evil; most songs filled with mindless gibberish, but it gets more embarrassing when Gallagher tries to get “deep”: The Morning Son’s title is cringe-inducing enough, but when we deal with words like “he’s in my mind/he’s in my soul/he’s even in my rock and roll” well...Dr Suess would like his rhyme scheme back, thank you.

None of this would matter too much, but what’s most maddening is that Gallagher is surrounded by talented people, all experienced enough to be able to stand up to him as quality control. Beatles And Stones, for instance (yes, he’s going there) is Liam’s grand folly: essentially declarations of greatness equaling long-held idols over a carbon-copy of the riff from My Generation. Why did no one say this wasn’t good enough?

As a starting point for a post-Oasis career, there is nothing on display to suggest a new voice or any attempt at something new. It all leaves the feeling of a slightly pointless exercise and an opportunity missed. Unless some of Beady Eye’s apparently incendiary live music finds its way onto record, Noel remains the one to watch.

2/5

Best Tracks:

Bring The Light

Four Letter Word

Build A Rocket Boys!- Elbow

Brace for landing: Guy Garvey and co have made their masterpiece

As tradition dictates, every generation needs an album to soundtrack it. You can go right back to the free love of 1967 and Sgt Pepper. 70s industrial strikes? Sex Pistols and Never Mind The Bollocks. 80s Thatcherite gloom? Where’s my copy of The Smiths’ The Queen Is Dead?

Step forward Elbow, proverbial “band-of-the-people” after the huge success of 2008’s Seldom Seen Kid. It was a fine album with telly’s ubiquitous anthem of choice One Day Like This among its riches. The stage is set for its grand follow-up: either an album aiming for stadiums, or their career-destroying Kid A moment.

Build A Rocket Boys! (their exclamation mark, not mine) is neither of these beasts, and thank goodness for that. What we have here is a distillation of everything that has been so great about Elbow over four albums: Guy Garvey’s down-to-earth and perfect songwriting; a sweeping, uplifting tone set against a monochrome background; and a dedication to not always doing it the easy way. It’s genuinely, without hyperbole, a masterpiece.

Opener The Birds is the ultimate scene-setter: not opting to push for epic grandstanding, it instead starts quiet, moody and shuffling, with Guy Garvey muttering about birds being “the keepers of our secrets”. This almost paranoid beginning flowers like the springtime he sings of, built around a looping acoustic guitar line. Eight minutes long but feeling like half that, it then explodes into warm bleeps and bloops and surging strings, before Garvey’s emotional, rich voice takes full flight.

It serves to highlight how far they’ve come as songwriters, a skill of theirs that hardly needed refining. Lippy Kids is by far Garvey’s greatest lyric, singing of the title characters “on the corner again”. In interviews, Garvey has said that he was put in reflective mood after moving home in the midst of writing this album, and it shows, looking back on his own experiences: “I never perfected that simian stroll.” When he sings “Do they know those days are golden?” it’s not with cynicism, but a show of support for this country’s youth against their detractors.

Elsewhere, Jesus Is A Rochdale Girl finds Garvey whispering in your ear, finding solace in “nothing to proud of, nothing to regret” as the album’s greatest addition to the mix bring in a new layer: keyboards. Craig Potter has always been there, but here he’s thrust forward, bringing prominent warmth to every track, and spine tingling piano to Neat Little Rows. The River and Open Arms are anthems for lost souls, the latter with choir keeping a door open should a friend return: “open arms for broken hearts like yours my boy, come home again.” Dear Friends is a powerful and tear-jerking finale, quietly finding solace in those around us, the band provide a big musical hug.

For the sake of reader sanity, that is where I will stop. But one could very easily dissect what’s wonderful about every single track. For those who still love their albums as single, whole works, BARB! is a wet dream. It’s exactly the album this country needs, searching through the bleak darkness for glimmers of optimism. Thank whoever you pray to for Elbow, the world can rest easier with them here.

5/5

Best Tracks:
Lippy Kids
The Birds
Dear Friends
Open Arms
Jesus Is A Rochdale Girl

Yuck- Yuck

Promising debut from shoegaze/grunge revivalists

Cajun Dance Party was one of THOSE bands. You know the type. Every now and then music publications tell you which indie bands will dominate the next few years’ landscape. Like Joe Lean And The Jing Jang Jong (remember them?) from the same sort of time, CDP never quite built on the fuss and threw it away.

From their ashes rise Daniel Blomberg and Max Bloom. They're throwing more straight-forward shapes in new band Yuck- great name with a nice little line in fuzzy, scuzzy indie, with the noise-love of Sonic Youth crossed with the melodies of Mazzy Star, and other grunge also-rans from the 90s.

It’s hardly a new proposition, and it has already been done far better, frankly. However, there’s enough verve and a few pop hooks on show here to create an enjoyable, if forgettable, first album stab.

Underneath the layers of distortion lies some great guitar work. Bloom and Blomberg make the instruments squeal and squall on The Wall, and the subtle acoustic lines that support Shook Down (as well as the rather lovely vocals) wouldn’t sound out of place on this year’s hip indie film soundtrack. Rhythm support from bassist Mariko Doi and drummer Jonny Rogoff do the job further down in the mix, but they hardly stand out.

Quieter tracks like Suicide Policeman and Sunday are a nice distraction, showing range and a degree of songwriting nous (“I just want to let you know/I could be your suicide policeman” is like a big man hug). In other moments, tracks like Georgia and Stutter show off another early-90s love of Yuck’s: shoegaze. It’s nice but, once again, Yuck are a little late to the party and it just puts better examples like Girls in mind. Yuck really work when they bring the rock.

This is found in abundance on The Wall and Holing Out- wonderful and slightly complex grunge at its best. Top of the pile though has to be closing track Rubber. With distorted vocals and an element of melody lurking beneath a wall of noise, its seven minutes build and build to a cacophony of sound cascading to the song’s climax. It’s their most Sonic Youth moment and it really shines.

Yuck isn’t an album that’s going to change the world, and it’s a revival movement that has been explored many times before. Despite this, the London quartet’s debut is fun and perfectly serviceable. Just don’t go in expecting fireworks.

3/5

Best Tracks:
Rubber
The Wall
Suicide Policeman

Radiohead- The King Of Limbs

Is it another masterpiece for the Oxford quintet? Almost...


Well wasn’t that fun? Yes, two weeks ago The Most Important Band In The World (TM) struck again, suddenly announcing the release of their new album, and then releasing it a day early for no good reason other than boredom it seems.

King Of Limbs follows the path of unconventional releases pioneered with Radiohead's previous album- 2008’s In Rainbows. Like that record, it has taken time for the fuss around the surprise to die down, allowing sole focus on the music. King Of Limbs also has the problem of following a genuine masterpiece: In Rainbows marked the point where Thom Yorke and co stopped trying to be machines, and invested in a little human emotion.

Unsurprisingly, this new album doesn’t quite live up to this billing. It’s not a huge step forward sonically- King Of Limbs for once is an exercise of evolution over revolution. It takes many of the ideas found on In Rainbows and develops them into new shapes. In many ways this is similar to what Amnesiac did with Kid A.

What is first noticeable is the absence of Johnny Greenwood’s guitar, an instrument having a renaissance on the last two records- his acoustic work on tracks like Faust Arp being a particular high. Here he’s only really heard front-and-centre on the scattered funk of Morning Mr Magpie, and minor acoustic flourishes on Little By Little and Give Up The Ghost. Even then, he can be tough to spot.

And this represents the only real problem with King Of Limbs: it doesn’t feel like a full-band effort. The man in control is clearly Thom Yorke, and it feels more like a solo piece by him. Feral, for instance, locates Radhiohead taking dubstep elements pioneered by Mr Yorke on his Eraser album. The album as a whole also shies away from more emotional lyrics, back into the absurd and cryptic (closer Separator finds Yorke claiming to be a fish now, for instance).

Two instruments work wonderfully though: Philip Selway’s avant-garde drumming is fresh and exciting, even on the quieter tracks. There’s also some of the band’s most beautiful piano work. Codex takes the framework of Pyramid Song from Amnesiac. It’s utterly involving yet ethereal and other-worldly at the same time. It’s this mood that dominates across the final three tracks. Separator, in particular, carries an almost positive sound not usually associated with Radiohead. Don’t let anyone label them miserablists.

There are other strengths: the spine-shivering brass that descends over Bloom is perfectly judged on a track that starts off a little muddled. It’s also unsurprising that Lotus Flower was the first “single” from King Of Limbs as it’s the only song to feature anything coming close to a chorus. It’s a chorus that soars, Thom Yorke’s sweet falsetto sitting atop a lolloping bassline.

If any other band released this album, it would be declared their masterpiece, and on first listen it carries that feeling. But as you live with the record, a slight sense of dissatisfaction creeps in: you’re left wondering how they took three years to create these 8 tracks- they’ve made better albums. This is a great Radiohead album- just not a life-changing one.

4/5

Best Tracks:
Codex
Seperator
Lotus Flower
Feral

James Blake- James Blake

Extraordinary debut from minimalist mystery man as the post-dubstep era begins

We live in a musical era of bigness: be it the seemingly-endless scale of Muse, or the complex pop of mainstream artists like Lady Gaga. But a quieter way of life is slowly breaking through. Witness last year’s XX Mercury win, and now the critical whispers around James Blake.

What the world knows about him could be written on the back of a 5p piece. He was born in London, he went to Goldsmith’s and he’s 21. But after a short stint as an electronica producer on several heralded EPs, he’s put his own voice down (even if auto-tuned in a Bon Iver sort-of-way) over delicate piano lines, with XX-style delicacy, and whoomping dubstep basslines. Lo-fi doesn’t even begin to cover it.

More than anything though, the spaces on a record have never felt quite so important. There’s one song in particular here, Lindesfarne I, that strips it right down to his emotional vocals (falsetto and filled with sadness, winning comparisons to Jeff Buckley). On top of this whole seconds are left silent. It’s a brave decision that works on an enormously brave debut.

So those expecting 11 tracks like his haunting cover of Feist’s Limit To Your Love that hit the charts earlier in the year may be slightly confused. The rest of the album carries that track’s dislike for flourishes, but first listen will lead you to check that the music player isn’t broken. To start with it feels a very cold record, but after a few listens it will burrow deep beneath your skin and stay there.

It always goes back to the voice: rarely unaffected, but it makes it all the more special when heard in naked form. Piano playing on tracks like Give Me My Month and Why Don’t You Call Me are exceptional.

Words don’t often make an appearance either. This works to astounding effect on I Never Learnt To Share: “My brother and sister don’t speak to me/But I don’t blame them.” That’s it. No explanation, no insight, just those words over and over. It’s a phrase that haunts, and it’s all the more powerful just as it is.

Power also lies on the aforementioned Lindesfarne I, before it brings in quietly plucked guitar to flesh it out on Lindesfarne II. I Mind is perhaps a step too far: simple vocal vowels over a slim piano coda, skipping and jumping all over the place. It sounds like a seriously fucked up vocal warm up. It comes to a beautiful conclusion as Blake endlessly multi-tracks himself for a homemade gospel choir on Measurements. He ebbs and flows through the track, never unmasking fully, but it’s the closest to a big production number, even though it clearly isn’t when you consider it.

Be warned: this is not an easy, immediate listening experience. When so many are after instant gratification, James Blake should be commended for making the audience work a little. Despite this, those who prefer their minimal electronica more straightforward to digest should probably wait for Jamie Woon later in the year.

4/5

Best Tracks:
Measurements
Lindesfarne I
I Never Learnt To Share
Give Me My Month

Ritual- White Lies

Bigger doesn’t always mean better for Ealing miserablists

The emergence of White Lies’ Joy Division-owing gloom was hardly original in 2009. Interpol and Editors had it well covered. But debut album To Lose My Life...’s surprise stint at number one showed that there was something fresh and new about them, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

It was a great album filled with memorable hooks and eccentric optimism against the doom. Now they’re back and have done it all over again: just much, much bigger. This leaves a mixed bag.
At times on second album Ritual, they resemble a Ferrari without any wheels. It’s an impressive noise, but there isn’t really much point if it doesn’t move anywhere. Editors suffered a similar fate when they brought in the synths and stadium-aim, and lost something in the process. As well as borrowing their sound, White Lies seem to be on a similar trajectory.

First single Bigger Than Us is a perfect example of this, heavy on grandstanding, whooshing synths and gleaming production. Here it works. But while it shows them focused and onto something that works for them, but it’s a formula they too often stick to.

Opener Is Love is one of the exceptions. As well as the huge McVeigh vocals and swirling guitars, they also frequently stab violently, with a gleeful funk breakdown in the middle. For five minutes, the forward momentum is relentless and genuinely exciting. Ritual’s quality dips in the very next song, Stranger, which is filled with statements like “I’ve got a sense of urgency” and “I’ve got to make this happen” without actually achieving it.

And this is the main problem: it’s a wildly inconsistent record. To Lose My Life... was great for its song writing. Death was a tangible take on fear of flying, and Farewell To The Fairground was a living, breathing nightmare. Only occasional moments of “guilt smeared across your lips” show off the same skill here, and it never manages it for an entire song.

The initial thrill at the size of the beast soon wears off. Unsurprisingly, it’s the more Earth-based moments that stand out. The Power & The Glory still manages to be an epic, but in a more subtle and subdued way, with a backing guitar screech and late-night, skittering percussion. This brings relief from stadium-bait like Holy Ghost and ironically-titled Peace & Quiet. Hushed moments aren’t going to sell records, but they work in White Lies’ favour.

Individual tracks won’t stay with you, neither is the overall feel of the record. What they have got is singer Harry McVeigh. He carries far more detached power than his contempories, but let’s hope on record three they invest a little more human emotion, and remember why they so great to start with.

3/5

Best Tracks:
Is Love
The Power & The Glory
Bigger Than Us

The Joy Formidable, February 1 2011, Bournemouth Old Firestation

Welsh trio bring a riot to the south coast. What rock crisis?


For indie and rock fans of a more mainstream bent, the start of 2011 was overwhelmingly depressing. Very few “proper” rock albums finding a release, Mumford & Sons the only so-called “rock band” in the end of year charts (despite them releasing their album in 2009 and, yknow, being a folk band)- the future looks grim.

So it’s easy to see why The Joy Formidable’s album The Big Roar has been feted so. But far from failing to live up to the hype, their riotous show makes every ounce of it justified. Rather than come out all-guns-blazing, Ritzy Bryan and co build up with seven-minute album opener “Everching Spectrum of a Lie”, just as effective live.

From here, TJF are playing at hurricane force. Ritzy, pixie-like with blonde bob bouncing everywhere, controls it beautifully. After every earthquake riff and solo, she responds with a huge grin. That’s what’s so great about them: they’re here to remind people that music is meant to be fun, and we need that right now.

The cold venue is warmed fast by a responsive crowd, with tracks like “Heavy Abacus”, “Buoy” and “cradle” set off the moshers, all pawing for Bryan’s tiny frame. Every song is like a set climax- not always a good thing, as the set hardly flows. But by the time explosive closer “Whirring” comes around, this just doesn’t matter. Tell the world: rock music is back...

The Joy Formidable- The Big Roar

Loudest riot out of Wales since the miners’ strikes

It doesn’t take me to tell you what a state British rock and indie are in right now. Last year’s end-of-year sales charts showed only one album from either genre in the top 20 (the distinctly folk-flavored Mumford & Sons, whose album was released in 2009 anyway). Though of COURSE no one does it for the fame, it’s still a worrying trend that shows the mainstream just isn’t listening.

One band hoping to break the deadlock is North Wales’ The Joy Formidable, consisting perma-blonde-bobbed Ritzy Bryan, her boyfriend bassist Rhydian Dafydd and drummer Matt Thomas. Since the release of their first bombastic single Cradle in 2008, they’ve at times found themselves unsure of their identity. On their major label debut The Big Roar they’ve found it: and boy, it’s something.

Press around the album has rather lazily labeled it as Celebrity Skin-era Hole, probably because of The Joy Formidable’s bolshie blonde front woman. Whilst there are hints of Courtney Love in the mix, really the spirit is closer to early Feeder (albeit more authentic), or last year’s Dinosaur Pile-Up’s version of hard grunge (but far better at every step).

These are hardly fresh influences, but what their debut shows is a knack for suffusing snarling riffs with clear, catchy pop hooks. The songs themselves make very little sense- and quite what Heavy Abacus refers to (except, y’know, for an abacus that’s heavy) is unclear. But who cares? With Bryan’s vocals a sheer force out to have fun and support sturdy as a girder, it hardly matters.

Opener The Everchanging Spectrum Of A Lie flies out of the speaker after a minute or so or rhythmic balloon bursting, yet this is far from a party pooper. There’s no doubt that The Joy Formidable are at their best when sprinting full pelt, visible on a re-recorded Cradle, The Magnifying Glass and Chapter 2. None pull punches in terms of rhythm or fretwork, carried further by Austere, revealing their indie origins with the addictive “ah-ah-ah-ah”s backing.

Best of the lot of Whirring, with Bryan sounding like she’s singing from the top of Snowdon. It builds and builds before exploding into three minutes of gleeful rock noise, building to a tantilisingly explosive climax. It’s pounding, elemental and full of adrenaline.

Hints of shifts in dynamic and texture feel needed in places then, so it’s disappointing that Llaw=Wall feels a little clumsy with a hushed first half followed by an overbearing second. After nine songs of pure energy and forward momentum, it grinds it all to a half, and so sits as something of a deadweight towards the end. Much better is epic closer The Greatest Light Is The Greatest Shade- combining the two quiet-loud elements in a slightly more thoughtful way. It would make The Pixies proud.

You might not understand what the hell they’re on about half the time, but songwriting and insight can come later, this still being a debut and all. What The Big Roar gives us is the best new rock band to emerge in the last five or so years. Let’s just hope a little loud Welsh blood can infect a few up-and-comers.

4/5

Best Tracks:

Whirring
The Greatest Light Is The Greatest Shade
Austere
Chapter 2

Cee-Lo Green- The Ladykiller

Goodie Mob and Gnarls Barkley renaissance man brings the new-fasioned Hot Buttered Soul...

Ah the contradictory duality of success on Youtube. Pity OK Go’s success with their legendary “treadmills” video to Here It Goes Again. They may work to top viewing figures with every ensuing smart video, but cruicially, no one’s buying the music.

The success of Cee-Lo Green’s video to Fuck You requires no introduction. Two million views in seven days, it was the viral hit of 2010, but thankfully, people liked the actual song enough to go out and buy it, beating the woeful Williams/Barlow Brokeback-fest Shame to number one.

Of course, Fuck You is such a brilliant pop song (even the idea of it as a kiss off brings a smile to the face) that threatens to hang like a proverbial albatross over his third solo album, The Ladykiller. The fact it doesn’t is a testament to the quality of people working with Green, and the authenticity of his update of a classic soul sound.

Lady Killer Theme starts proceedings with tongue firmly in cheek: part Shaft, part Ironside theme. It makes it clear Green wants to have fun. After setting his lot out, Bright Lights Bigger City acts as a curveball- not straight classic soul, but a gleaming modern pop production. Introduced with punchy synth chords, Green is our guide through a Saturday night on the pull, surrounded by beautiful women- but classy; his night isn’t ending in a kebab shop. Bond-theme strings bleed in, swirling it to a heady climax.

It stands as the biggest suprise here, and from this point Green and from this point it’s what you expect- voice located somewhere between Gaye and Hayes, songs a clear pop update of the Temptations at their best- but isn’t that why you bought the entry ticket?

Despite the influences weighing heavy, Cee-Lo is entirely his own man, filled with confidence on confection like It’s OK and Satisfied, or plagued by insecurities on ballads like Bodies and I Want You. It’s obvious that he is the star here, and the album loses a little something when he shares his stage with Lauren Bennett on Love Gun. However, the presence of Earth Wind & Fire’s Philip Bailey on percussion through Fool For You is refreshingly welcome.

Lights are certainly down for the album conclusion: a cover of Band of Horses’ No One’s Gonna Love You. Green wrings every last drop of emotion out of the heartbreaking lyrics. It’s introspective on the verses, and then takes a giant leap on the skyscraping choruses. It’s quite extraordinary, and it’s no suprise it’s produced to ubiquitous pop king Paul Epworth.

What amazes most is the unity of it all, despite the work of over 10 writers and 9 or so producers, certainly more so than either of his other two solo albums. It’s the space Cee-Lo allows his voice that achieves this, and it also allows this clear shot at the mainstream to keep the right side of commercial, never straying to crass or cynical.

4/5

Best Tracks:

Fuck You
No One’s Gonna Love You
Bright Lights Bigger City
Bodies

Top 10 Things To Look Forward To In 2011

All things considered, 2010 wasn't the best year to be a music fan in the UK. Guitar music died a cold death, X Factor tried to fool pop fans with some frankly rubbish autotuning, and R&B crooners who sing their own names at the start of songs kept going to number one.

But as the following feature shows, 2011 is shaping up to be a much better year. Here's the Rockinfreakopotimus! guide to the next twelve months...

10. The Strokes Return (maybe...)

Ok, so the New Yorkers have been promising their new album for since 2008, and has faced delays thanks to at least two returns-to-drawing-board and the altogether more exciting Julian Casablancas solo album. The Strokes also have a lot of work to recover lost work, slipping from THE indie heros of the 00s to a band treading water by 2006's First Impressions Of Earth. Can they pull off their return?
Due: Spring


9. White Lies- Ritual
Their first album, To Lose My Life... found them hitting the ground running with a series of doom-laden, well written insights into death and fear. The critical noise around the follow up Ritual has been overwhelmingly positive and exciting, and if first single Bigger Than Us is anything to go by, this might be one of the first great albums of the year.
Due: 17th January

8. What Did You Expect From The Vaccines?
One of the most best new bands of 2010 and certainly one of the few indie groups to really thrill, The Vaccines have announced today that their new album will be called What Did You Expect From The Vaccines. Opening on the NME tour is often a sign of greatness to follow, and if they can deliver on the promise of the first two singles, Vaccines could put guitar bands back on top.
Due: March


7. The Flaming Lips to play The Soft Bulletin live, in full!
The idea of playing a classic album in full is frequently a quick way for a band to make easy money. That and can you really think of an album you want to hear every track of? The Soft Bulletin might be the exception. The first of their trio of classic albums, the 1999 masterpiece deserves to be brought to wider attention.
Expected: Summer

6. New Radiohead Material
The follow up to 2007's game-changing In Rainbows was expected last year, but the band announced they needed a little more time to get finished in November. What's not yet clear is how we'll recieve the new music, or even what form it will take, with talk even of a classical EP. Whatever and however we get it, expectations are extremely high
Expected: Unknown


5. Sonisphere 2011
Just for the headliners: Metallica, Iron Maiden, Anthrax, Megadeath and Slipknot. Just that alone is enough to ensue that this year's Download is probably going to be very quiet indeed...
Expected: 8th July

4. Build A Rocket Boys- Elbow
Any worries about expectations getting to them were blown away last week with the premiere of new song Lippy Kids. There was a sense with their Mercury Music Prize win of just reward, and the follow up promises to be the same combination of songwriting mastery, and epic intimacy as their very best work.
Expected: March

3. Glastonbury 2011
Glasto last year was a mixed one...true they had Stevie, but as a symbol of the mixed reaction, it was Michael Eavis singing Happy Birthday. Headliners are booked (one of them probably being U2) and it promises to be an exciting year
Expected: 22nd June

2. New music scene?
2010 was completely dead for guitar bands. But through the last few decades repressive Tory governments have bred wonderful and exciting new music. A good tip? Dubstep elements find their way into unusual places...

And at number 1...

Pulp reuinite!
It's been rumoured for years, but finally the Sheffield Britpoppers are returning for a victory lap. A whole new generation are about to be introduced to the wit and wisdom of Jarvis Cocker, and the band are promising a classic show. There's also a gap in their schedule for Glasto...