Thrown In The Mix (25/10/2009)

Track listing for the fans - thanks for all the message love. Shall be returning to the written medium soon! Stay tuned!

I Like Giants - Kimya Dawson
Time of the Season - The Zombies
The Funeral - Band Of Horses
Know Your Onion! - The Shins
Fidelity - Regina Spektor
Fifty In Five - Hilltop Hoods
Stay Positive - The Hold Steady
Club Action (Hatchmatik Midnight Juggernauts Remix) - Yo Majesty
Killer Queen - Queen

Good Artist/Bad Song: Sliver - Nirvana
Genre-Defying Cover: Gin And Juice - Sublime

Thrown In The Mix (18/10/2009)

Our best show yet with the addition of our permanent co-host Andrew Erlanger, who finally joined us on air.
As usual the songs flowed thick and fast, anyone needing the list, here ya go:
Rock And Roll - Led Zeppelin
Fake ID - The Go! Team
Purple Haze - Groove Armada
Thunder Road - Bruce Springsteen
Flex - Dizzee Rascal
Me And Bobby McGee - Janis Joplin
Happiness is a Chemical - Darron Hanlon
Dammit - Blink-182
You Know I'm No Good - Amy Winehouse
Cosmic Love - Florence + The Machine

Genre Defying Cover: Miss Jackson - The Vines
Good Artist/Bad Song: I Am The Walrus - The Beatles

Cheers for all the support - love it.

Thrown In The Mix (11/10/2009)

Another rockin' night on Syn 90.7 - thanks for y'all for tunin' in and sendin' in some love for us in the studio. Anyone hangin' out for set-list. A present for you.

Fader - The Temper Trap
Just Like Heaven - The Cure
Enjoy The Silence - Depeche Mode
Relapse - Little Birdy
Me and Julio Down By the Schoolyard - Paul Simon
Where Is My Mind? - Pixies
Sweet Thing - Van Morrison
The Further I Slide - Badly Drawn Boy
What Else Is There? (Trentemøller Remix) - Röyksopp
The Good That Won't Come Out - Rilo Kiley
Fate (Todd Terje Tynneterje Edit) - Chaka Khan

Bad Artist/Good Song: Bad Touch - The Bloodhound Gang
Genre Defying Cover: Always On My Mind - Pet Shop Boys

Thrown In The Mix (04/10/09)

So for those of you who haven't heard the news,
God Only Knows has moved to radio, and into a weekly mix-tape format.
Hooray! I hear you shout!
I shall still be posting reviews here, there are an avalanche to come, but for those who just can't wait that long, listen in to Syn Fm 90.7 at 11pm on Sunday night to hear a godly mix of aural delights.
For those who are on the ball and listened in tonight, the set-list is below.

Stand On The Word Of God (Larry Levan Remix) - The Joubert Singers
Blood - The Middle East
Kick, Push - Lupe Fiasco
Paris (Aeroplane Remix) - Friendly Fires (ft. Au Revoir Simone)
Kabul Shit - Lily Allen
Shooting Stars - Bag Raiders
Son Of A Preacher Man - Dusty Springfield
From The Ritz To The Rubble - Arctic Monkeys
Thru The Eyes Of Ruby - The Smashing Pumpkins

bad artist/good song: S.O.S. - Rhianna
genre-defying cover: Feeling Good - Muse

No Rage Against The Machine Allowed

Florence and the Machine is the latest power-pop queen to emerge from that cold island, which up until recently was renowned for their shit weather, shitter cricket team and a bunch of average looking women.

These days they're enjoying heat waves, beating us in the Ashes and developing some very lovely girls to look at. Florence Welch happens to be one of these girls. She has joined the ranks of Lily, Kate and Adele and it suddenly seems that the world has gone topsy-turvy.

I must say this album is simultaneously one of the most amazingly gorgeous and disappointingly inconsistent albums this year. Quite the conundrum. Half her songs are simply fantastic, pop gold. The others, well they kinda suck.

So what am i supposed to do? Focus on the good and leave out the bad? Or just rip them to pieces? Well considering the British media has done a pretty comprehensive job at the latter, i might try to shine some light on some of the coolest pop songs this year.

Kiss with a Fist is a great indie-pop opener that borrows with a heavy hand from the 2001 version of The White Stripes, which is nothing to complain about considering that was their peak, before the 'fat zorro incident' anyway. Though some may doubt Flo's sensitivity in writing such a throw-away pop song that's main statement towards its audience is how staying with an abusive boyfriend is better than being alone. Take that conservative political values! Nevertheless! It is great garage pop nonsense that flies through your speakers in a bit over two minutes, and is charming with every second.

Lead off single Dogs Days are Over ditches the tuned-down guitars for piano stabs and marching beats and the result is a glorious success. A driving force that builds its pace slowly before cantering to a rollicking stomp/clap anthem, its climax has almost euphoric pop qualities making it destined for the "Top 25 Played" play lists of many teenage girls' itunes. Oh and Nova might need new underwear.

Hurricane Drunk provides us with the obligatory ballad, though thankfully and rather unsurprisingly it's not as generic as most female pop singers (cough Kelly Clarkson cough), aided mostly due to Florence's beautifully soulful voice. Her voice has the range of the great Miss Winehouse but without the nasal twang makes you notice the size of her nose. Casting herself as the heartbroken woman who has been broken up with (original huh?) the song doesn't try to be or do too much, which is strangely pleasing. It comes across not only as genuine and real but as a very raw expression of her emotion, again due in part to her lush vocals.

Following from the epic galloping drums of Dogs Days are Over is the similarly apocalyptic Cosmic Love. The song sounds as if the planets are colliding and the finger-picked ukulele underpins Flo's soaring almost screaming vocals, Bjork would struggle to create this amount of drama and keep it so enchantingly beautiful.

Probably the boldest move on the album, and a highlight if for no other reason but ambition, is the closer You've Got The Love, a cover of an old happy-vocal-house track by Candi Station. Its transformation into a piano led desperate plea for love and its earnestness makes quite a simple song captivating and heartfelt. Its mere conception deserves praise yet the execution of the track is delightfully underplayed, an apt finish for an album that blooms and wilts with nearly every track.

The album's biggest treasure paradoxically has the least enticing title, an epic and almost progressive pop masterpiece that is randomly and inexplicably called Rabbit Heart. Despite the initial disgust of a Chinatown restaurant window popping into my head, the song radiates warmth. Its gospel-tinged melody and hands in the air chorus is sure to be crowd-pleasing to the teenage girls and indie hipsters alike, and with this sure-fire single it's only a matter of time before Florence dominates the airwaves of commercial radio and fantasies of teenage boys. Just like Lily and all of their other dainty English friends...

P.S - Any of you disco fiends out there will love the Leo Zero remix of Rabbit Heart, as I am sure you know that piano house is godly.

(Auto)tuned out. A letter to Lupe...

Lupe. Lupe. Lupe.
Are you serious?
After two very successful albums that have given you not only an incredibly loyal following but the title of heir to the throne (Hova's of course), what are you doing to us?
Bringing out some sample-driven, autotuned single with completely incomprehensible lyrics.
What the fuck's with that man?
Whatever happened to your direct, succinct and potent criticisms and observations about the world?
Or your vocal harmonies?
Did you not witness the media execution of one Kanye West after his deplorably monotonous 808s & Heartbreaks?
Obviously not, because the autotune is a rookie mistake and one that has significantly lowered my expectations and anticipation for your coming album Lasers.
Add this production folly to the fact that for a four and a half minute song, you only clock in around 80 seconds of rapping; and most of it is completely indecipherable.
Please. Help me out here. What the fuck does this even mean:
"We can hear the songs from that Opera groomed fat bitch, telling is not the pursuer just the shoe like a blacksmith."
Any ideas? Me neither.
So now not only have you pissed me off in concert but with your come back single. You are skating on thin ice my kick pushin' friend.

Yours sincerely,

The Underground Lover

The Overdone and the Underwhelmed

I truly hope that this is Sarah Blasko's 'difficult' third album because golly gosh does it sound laboured. I hate writing this, even now, my fingers are fighting against my heart, struggling to write such words about my one true love. I had always believed that one fine day in the not so distant future, Miss Blasko was going to be my sweetheart, we were going to meet and fall in love, buy a house in the suburbs and get a dog and before too long have little Blaskos running around our white picket fence. And yes of course I'd let her keep her own name, because it would be a travesty to sacrifice such a wicked (and marketable) surname. Am I legally able to take her name? Would my Dad care? Anyway I am rambling and this information is neither here nor there, nor anywhere for that matter.

Apart from my utter infatuation with her beauty, the point is or should be that Sarah has kinda dropped the ball on her latest album, As Day Follows Night. Writing this album by herself for the first time after breaking up with her long time writing/love-making partner; you would expect that it would be filled with beautifully melancholy Blaskoness (Blaskoality?) as she expresses the pain of her recent break up. But no. Instead there is painfully repetitive lyrics and mundane same-same arrangements. I hear you blogreaders! "Say It Ain't So!"



Alas it seems that Sarah has hit the creative doldrums, gone are the lush, experimental, sweeping musicianship that made songs such as {Explain}, Perfect Now and The Albatross so haunting and interesting. In are the sleepy and frustrating repetitious Is My Baby Yours? Where the title is pondered by Sarah no less than 17 times in 3 and a half minutes and the equally draining, Night & Day where its respective title is asserted 14 times in a similar timeframe.

This obvious lull in lyrical vigour is not helped by a grating monotone from the damsel herself that drowns out the entire album. Where in the past the epic and complex nature of her music has made up for her lack of vocal range and intonation, the minimalism employed on this latest outing by guest producer Bjorn Yttling (of Peter, Bjorn and John fame) does her no favours, bringing her singular octave vocals to the forefront of the songs, only highlighting what has always been her biggest weakness as an artist.

However, such production faux-pas and unintelligent pseudo-wisdom sprouting forth from Miss Blasko's mouth has not stopped a torrent of accolades and critically rapturous reviews for the album, most of which are from commercial media outlets desperate to catch up with the Blasko-Band-Wagon, one i feel is in desperate need of a service and some time off the road.

Therefore Sarah's record company, Dew Process, should not be worried. The album will still sell quite well and will most likely receive wider press than any other release to date. This is mostly due to the fact that three albums in, Sarah is at the point in her career where she has created enough buzz with the indie scenesters and adult contemporary aficionados that the wider music community either needs to ignore her completely or heap praise upon her, whether it is timely or warranted. Unfortunately this album gives no such evidence for either, and I am sure I am not the only fan (or worshiper) who are struggling to find something to love.

This desire to find something lovable that just isn't there is not helped by Sarah's drastic change in image that has accompanied the new album launch. We all knew she was a bit of an odd-ball but sadly the elegant, Audrey Hepburn styled gowns and dresses that back-in-the-day were the envy of every 20 something woman in the room and the reason for the starry eyes in every 20 something year old man have been replaced by odd and unflattering costume designs that resemble the Mad Hatter on acid. Sarah needs to learn that only one woman can get away with such eccentricities, and her name is Bjork, and it only because she wrote an aural piece of heaven called Hyperballad.



To be fair, Bird on a Wire provides a glimmer of the good ole days, it is the sole song on the album that twists its melody, (magnificently utilising a brooding bass line)and uses an ounce of originality and narrative it is lyrics. Though even the relative, and i stress relative glory of this track is marred by its crucial line, "Caught in a trap of desire, you got lost, you got shot with a bow and arrow to the heart, you're flashing your life like a battered wife, got some wood and a knife, wood and a knife." Just another example of how lazy repetition allows a song fall into mediocrity after building so intensely and beautifully.

I was hoping this album was to be Sarah's Wuthering Heights, it wasn't. I was then hoping it would be 'a grower', it wasn't. I can now only hope it is a minor glitch in an otherwise stellar career. If Sarah needs to be in love to write her best material, consider my hand well and truly in the air (and i know a nice tapas restaurant), with my motivations lying somewhere between my own personal fantasy and having the best interests of the Australian music industry at heart. Sarah i shall always love you, i just want you to know that for now, I'm not angry, I'm just dissapointed. But isn't that always worse?

P.S - For evidence of aforementioned acid use, check out the film clip for Bird on a Wire.