god only knows

Thrown In The Mix (25/10/2009)

2009-11-22T17:56:00.002+11:00

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)

2009-10-25T21:03:00.003+11:00

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)

2009-10-12T16:35:00.002+11:00

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)

2009-10-05T01:39:00.002+11:00

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

2009-07-21T23:18:00.011+10:00

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...

2009-07-19T18:00:00.010+10:00

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

2009-07-13T16:30:00.024+10:00

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.

I heard the news today, oh boy...

2009-06-26T11:46:00.011+10:00

At 7.30am (AEST), Michael Jackson was pronounced dead by the Los Angeles coroner, after what appears to have been complications following a cardiac arrest.

It is hard to describe the loss that the music world feels on this historic day. Very few artists have revolutionised music in the way that Michael did, and his influence has permeated through every facet of music since his humble beginnings with the Jackson 5 during the glory days of Motown.

Having sold over 50 million records in the 1980's alone, MJ was not only one of the most prolific artists of all time but one of the most idolised. He transcended what it was to be a musician and broadened the boundaries of stardom, his progressive dancing setting a new standard in music videos and his music was, and in many minds will always be, the epitome of pop music. And while the debate between whether Off the Wall is a better album than Thriller will continue for generations to come, his claim in creating two of the most perfect records is only part of his legacy.

A generation of musicians, whether fronting a hardcore band, trying to make it as an MC or learning acoustic guitar are indebted to Michael as he created a love of music for so many people. In sharing with them the gift of his music he influenced and inspired people across the world, a seed the world is now reaping a generation later, as we now enjoy a generation of musicians who cite Michael Jackson as a primary reason for their success.

If there is any justice in this world, the crass, debasing accusations against him that have lowered his public status in the past decade will be forgotten, as will the pointless and inconsequential controversy over his skin colour and his merits as a father. Michael will be remembered by those who loved him as the biggest superstar of the 20th century, the moonwalking, invincible man who gave us some of most beautiful music ever created.

Personally, Michael was with me throughout the first ten years of my life. Growing up with older siblings i fauned over their copies of Bad and Dangerous, I remember my sister making me watch the Thriller video on 'Rage' on a Saturday morning. I was mesmerised. His ability to move was unlike anything i'd ever seen before and it was a truly significant moment in my musical awakening. When i was 14 i bought a second-hand copy of Off the Wall and subsequently used Rock With You on every mix-tape i made for a girl in the next four years. I believe his music was so universally loved simply because it was life-affirming, and he injected his positive, utterly optimistic view of the world into every one of his songs.

I realise my own imposition that it is impossible to give worthy credit to such a man through this medium, his effect on the history of music is mammoth and cannot adequately be expressed in brevity. It is clear however that today the world lost a beautiful man and a musician who has few rivals. Like Lennon, Elvis and Cobain before him, he was taken from this world unexpectedly and prematurely, but his legacy will live as long as his music does.

Rest in Peace,
The King of Pop
1958 - 2009

Some of Australia's Best Work

2009-06-25T10:28:00.088+10:00

You see the beauty in having a blog is that it allows a person to make incredibly subjective comments and state them as fact. So without further ado, (clears throat) The Whitlams are the most under rated and under appreciated group in Australia.

As I have mentioned though, this might be a slightly bias opinion because I hold a very personal connection with The Whitlams, they were my introduction to music. I have vague memories from my childhood, flashes really, of sitting in the passenger seat of my brother's midnight blue '93 Prelude, driving around South Yarra with Triple J on the radio.

These memories are some of the happiest I have, my brother made me feel cool and grown up, he would let me do all the things my mum wouldn't let me do: drinking chocolate milkshakes, eating as much McDonalds as i possibly could and listening to songs with swearing in them. And whilst my age prevented me from consciously knowing and singing along to many of the songs that my brother loved, one song stuck with me like no other had before.

This song in many ways was my musical awakening, had grown up on The Beatles and U2, but somehow I knew this song was different. It was vibrant and obtrusive and everything about it was strange to me; the vocal delivery, the chord progression, and even the piano melody played inside my head, sound tracking my many road trips around Melbourne with my brother.

This song was No Aphrodisiac, a song that would go on to win the 1997 Triple J Hottest 100. Now before I go further, I believe it is important to note that I was 9 years old at the time, and I'm pretty sure I didn't even know what an erection was, let alone something someone would take to get one...but the pure phonetics of word affected me and I fell in love with the song's lyrical style. It was melancholy but also contemplative, passionate but yet with hints of anguish and despondency at a life of loneliness and sexual frustration.

It catapulted the pub band from their residency at the Sandringham Hotel to gigs around Australia, with their album, Eternal Nightcap earning them plaudits at the 1998 Aria Awards. What it got me was a copy of the Triple J Hottest 100 Volume 5 on double-tape from my brother that Christmas. This present would do extraordinary things to my early musical development, introducing me to bands that to this day are personal favourites of mine, including The Verve, Blur, Blink 182, Ben Folds (Five) and of course Radiohead.

These two tapes were the only thing that got me through a disgustingly boring road trip through Tasmania with my parents, as I listened to the aforementioned classics on repeat and tried to grasp the shocking nature of Marilyn Manson and The Prodigy. I remember thinking to myself that I didn't like the man screaming on that song Monkey Wrench.

But more than anything it was Track 1 on Side A that hypnotised me, the lyric, "I'll be asleep at my brother's house" reminded me of my regular sleep overs in South Yarra, and the song quickly became a symbol of my growing independence. For once I was listening to my own music as opposed to whatever my parents had selected, and whilst I relished our sing-alongs to ABBA, there was a raw and new sense of adulthood that came with having my own walkman and music that my parents were not privy to.

The overwhelming commercial success and media interest The Whitlams received for the chart-topping single and its album were never to be replicated again, spiking briefly once more, two years later upon the release of their controversial plea against the government's radical gambling regulations, Blow up the Pokies. This cry is The Whitlams at their most impassioned and most articulate, damning a government that allowed the financial destruction of its people for profit, as Tim mourns, "Cause they're taking the food off your table, so they can say that the trains run on time." To this day it remains one of Australia's most culturally relative songs, sitting along side The Oils's Beds are Burning and The Finger's Like a Dog.

These songs illustrate and epitomise the eclectic brilliance of the leader and sole survivor of the original lineup of The Whitlams. Tim Freedman's talent as a song-writer and musician is a result of his personal connection to the subject of each of his songs, and it is obvious that there is a story behind every one of them. Whether it be told in the first person like No Aphrodisiac and his ode to an old girlfriend and her city, Melbourne or in the third person like Blow up the Pokies and the polka jangly-pop mess of You Sound Like Louis Burdett; Tim Freedman is a storyteller, he wraps his songs in vivid imagery and his characters absorb his listener into the narrative. He resonates with the state of the nation like other great raconteurs gone-by, commenting on both its innate beauty and the despair of its people, a quality that results in a deeply personal feel in his songs but also a larger and much broader appeal.

The Whitlams, like all of the great storytellers in music including the likes of Springsteen and Neil Young, have no defining or all-encompassing album (Eternal Nightcap if i had to choose) because their catalogue is essentially a journey through Tim Freedman's life. More than anything it is Tim Freedman's ability to find the personal in the general and beauty in the mundane that has led me to associate and characterise many important times in my life with the songs of The Whitlams, a quality in their music that I believe epitomises the importance of their contribution to Australian music.

Now its probably time I got to the point in this self-indulgent rant, The Whitlams launched my 11-year campaign to explore as much music as possible, one that continues to this day in all of its money-draining glory. In all honesty I have probably spent more money on them than I have on any other band, and considering i recently forked out a good $300 for a Simon & Garfunkel ticket, that's a pretty big call; especially considering a 3-hour booze-fest with The Whitlams at The Corner Hotel sets you back around 35 bucks.

On the 7th of August, I shall be seeing The Whitlams for the 8th time, not that I'm some crazy obsessive or anything, I just think that for the cost of a few jugs of Mountain Goat, a 3 hour set from a great Aussie band is pretty damn good value. But there's one problem, in the roughly 24 hours that i have spent watching The Whitlams perform live, i have never heard them play my favourite song. This really, really, really shits me. And it's not as if my favourite song is a dud, it was the second single from their album Torch the Moon and peaked at #35 on the Aria Charts, so I'm guessing a few other people in Australia must like it as well.

Best Work is a lovelorn paean to the broken-hearted; and it is pulled off with delicacy and heart-crushing honesty that lifts it above most of the pseudo-break-up songs that are produced. There is a pain in his voice that tells you Tim has lived each one of his words as he admits to his ex-lover, "i still don't wanna know if you're moving on." So while this song treads a well-worn path of the man as a post-relationship trauma victim, Tim manages to evade the usual clichés through the use of his personal idiosyncrasies to bring originality and honesty to his subject matter, confiding, "I never dreamed about you, when we were never far apart, and now that i'm without you, you're here all through the night." But despite the gorgeous sentiment of Best Work, Tim has left it off all of his set lists and drunken encores I have ever witnessed, I do not know if this is just some random coincidence in omissions or if there is a reason for this decision, but i am definitely hoping for the former.

What a way to ask for a favour huh...(awkward laugh) So here is my official request for The Whitlams to play my favourite song when i see them in August. So with a bit of luck, the curse stops here.

Rapper's Delight

2009-06-22T14:17:00.007+10:00

DJ Shadow explained on his seminal album Endtroducing, "Why Hip-Hop sucks in '96."
However 2 years in the bussiness is a mighty long time and the Jonathan Levine film, The Wackness shows that Hip-Hop definitely did not suck in '94.

Set in urban New York, the film is an obscure coming of age story following loner and pot-dealer Luke Shapiro through his Summer after graduation, the development of his first real friendship, and his first love. With edgy, unique direction and strangely endearing character development; the film's poetic charm is aided by brilliant acting and an inspiring soundtrack.

Weaving through many of the film's sub-plots, including Luke's escapism from his parents and his romantic pursuit of Stephanie, the film's soundtrack is a showcase of everything there was to love about hip-hop in the early 1990's. From the emergence of Notorious B.I.G to Faith Evans and A Tribe Called Quest, the soundtrack represents the connection between this music and its people, who treated it as life philosophy.

Now that might sound very wanky of me, but the music in The Wackness perfectly encapsulates the naive and innocent journey the protagonist Luke goes through in discovering himself. The music of Ice Cube and LL Cool J was part of a modest hip-hop culture where thier insignificance in the industry next to the grunge heavyweights of the day accentuated the personal nature of their music. Their music was cathartic for the communities they were a part of, the communities that they were writing about and the people who listened to this music knew that the people themselves and their lyrics were not far removed from their own lives.

This connection hip-hop held in society in the early 1990's was not contaminated by the aesthetically excessive and superfluously glorified culture that would consume it in the later half of the decade as the successes of Biggie and Tupac transformed the sub-culture into a stratosphere.

The growing sub-culture is beautifully portrayed through The Wackness, as almost the mirror image or doppelgänger to Luke - without pretensiousness, without arrogance and without the fasçade of worldly wisdom. Just like Luke, the hip-hop culture in '94 was still learning about itself and still accepting what it is, and what its purpose in the world is. This fascinating use of music through out the film is something that sets it apart from the 'indie film with a heart' niche that is becoming so very populated recently; and the way that both the film and its music are beautifully characterised as modest and undeveloped is what makes this quirky coming of age story all the more moving and entertaining.

The Wackness - A
The Wackness OST - A+

Cooler Weather Ahead

2009-04-19T12:44:00.008+10:00

After impressing the musos in London and New York for the past few years, our forgotten homespun talent Daniel Merriweather is on the verge of becoming the coolest dude on the planet. The padawan learner of Mr.Mark Ronson who helped him hit the Top 10 last year with the souled out version of The Smiths's Stop Me (if you've heard this one before), Daniel is now about to release his debut solo album Love & War.

Earning his scout badges on the road for the last 18 months with Ronson and The Dap-Kings, which saw him return to our shows last December briefly on the haunted Global Gathering tour, Daniel returned to the studio early this year to put the final touches on what is tipped to be the debut record of the year. Speaking of his influence of The Dap-Kings and their even dapper frontman, Daniel admits, "I brought them a whole bunch of songs that they wouldn’t naturally play on and their amazing musicianship really helped those songs evolve..."

Fusing funk and soul with his natural pop sensibility, Love & War, which is on Ronson's own Allido label, features a collaboration with Adele, Water and a Flame and the first single Change, which is already getting heavy rotation on Triple J. Release date is May 25th in the U.K and hopefully we'll be getting one close to that because this guy is going to be cooler than The Simpsons in 1994.

P.S - keep your ear out for two classic covers:
Golden Skans - Klaxons
You Don’t Know What Love Is - The White Stripes

No Forthcoming Story

2009-02-28T19:23:00.007+11:00

Yesterday i lost one of my earliest musical influences. In the same classes at high school, the boisterous and rambunctious Nick Buttifant, known affectionately as Butterz, was as inspiring as he was determined. Defiantly suffocated by the conservatism of our private boys school, he found solace in music and our bond was quickly formed. As a musician and a music critic, we did not always see eye-to-eye, (as we shouldn't) but his passion and talent for his craft, both as a guitarist and songwriter was evident, and impossible not to respect. Through Myspace, both of his bands, Forthcoming and later Passendale found legions of fans who followed his constant touring schedule leaving an everlasting legacy to the amount of people whom he touched through his personality and music.

Charismatic, ambitious and fiercely competitive, Nick's self-promotion of his bands earned them gigs and well earned praise, bringing their blend of punk/pop/rock to the Espy, Ding Dong Lounge, Revolver and many other venues around Melbourne and Australia. Nick's self-assurance was infectious and when he told you that his band were "going to be huge", you didn't doubt him, you couldn't, because in his mind he could do anything. One of the strongest and most dedicated people i've ever known, Nick lived for the music he played and the people he played to.

Sadly, the turning of the world was too much for him, and this lovable and gifted man took his own life, ending the story of a person who had so many more chapters to write for himself. What I found today was a promo-paper I wrote for him and his band Forthcoming as they were about to release their first EP. We were the ripe old age of 15 and i still remember the excitement and happiness on the boy's face when he saw that i had (illegally) posted more than 400 of these promotions around the school and train station urging people to buy their CD. So out of respect for someone who i held dear as an accomplished musician and as a loyal friend, here is one of my first ever pieces of music writing, dedicated to a man who i will never forget telling me that we were going to be the best in the world at what we do...Rest In Peace Nick, i'll miss you mate.

Nick Buttifant, Liam Jenkins and Michael Landers, who make up the St. Kevin’s contingent of Forthcoming have had to put up with a lot of doubters in their time, a lot of nay-sayers who have told them at various times that they didn’t have what it takes to make it in this savagely competitive music industry. Now in their final year at school, this three-year-old garage outfit have finally got their act together and are ready to take on the world, one doubter at a time.

Produced at the prominent Studio 52 here in Melbourne which has borne such artists as Jet, Missy Higgins and Alex Lloyd, Forthcoming have transformed their trademark scratchy garage sound into a solid, clean, polished six-track EP, which aims to put the heart back into garage Rock ‘n’ Roll. The band’s post-grunge structures are complimented perfectly by riffs obviously influenced by Led Zeppelin, Black Sabbath and Metallica while reaching the minds of listeners through Nick’s thoughtful and often damning lyrics.

Pop/Rock opener ‘One Boys Life’ jumps along, and with the aid of Jules Zuliani’s persistent drumming, pounds away at the narrative lyrics that make this sing-a-long anthem as catchy as it is up-lifting. ‘Forthcoming Story’ an older song by the band has become an almost biographical introduction to their young rock and roll lives as Nick sings with an epic notion of ambition in his voice, ‘this is the forthcoming story…’ as a sonic crash of guitars proceeds to blow the nostalgia-lined chorus away. EP standout, “Tonight’s the Night’ showcases the boys’ range of musical influences as they toy with the post-Nirvana Seattle music scene contrast of louder metal and finger-plucking effects to enhance a guitar-solo Slash himself would be proud of. Though the maturity of Forthcoming is not seen through their catchy hooks and metal riffs but in the thought-provoking lyrics that speak not only of the boys’ life experiences but grapple with issues in a way that far outstrips their years. Most notably seen in ballad/rocker ‘Don’t Push Me Away’, Nick’s piano accompanying a more melancholic side of Forthcoming which serves to highlight their musical diversity and growth from a young garage band to an important, serious band on Melbourne’s local music scene.

Forthcoming’s debut EP succeeds in expanding their sound while also polishing their catchy garage tunes to a point where any doubter can feel free to adjust their hair in the reflection. An extremely professional and mature record, Forthcoming have grown up and for such a hard-working and determined band the taste in their mouths must be oh so sweet.

For Karz

2009-02-15T11:35:00.027+11:00

One music critic, who shall remain nameless, recently said that Lady Gaga is quote unquote, The Future Of Pop Music. Personally, and i think i speak on behalf of the poker playing community of the world when i say this, Lady Gaga is the future of everything shit in the music industry. This observation aside, i would rather give this honour to a lady much more deserving of the title. My pick of the week, flavour of the month, one to watch and every other journalistic cliché you can think of is Sia Furler. Some People Have Real Problems, released in January has already gathered the Chinese whispers kind of hype achieved two years ago by Miss Leslie Feist. And if there is any justice in the music world, Sia will be Miss 2009. She has created a unique and refreshing blend of pop and soul music and her voice has an amazingly unexpected range that can at times have hairs on end with tingles down your back.

Depth and intensity are the two things that set this girl apart from the rest of her whispy, female singer-songwriter clan. Sia well and truly wears her heart on her sleeve, to the point that at times when she sings you think it might slide off. (sorry for the gross mental image there...) Emotionally intense, her lyrics are as cathartic as they are intelligent but are by no means weepy or overblown. Her accomplishment lies in her subtly, these are her dark little thoughts, insecure and brash, regretful and worried; sung in a voice that is as vulnerable as it is softly delicate. There is an attachment to the words as she sings them, as if you can almost hear her insecurities as she confides in you, worried about what you will think of her.

It is easy to see Sia's influences, Death by Chocolate echoes the early greatness of Miss Keys, as Lullaby does Miss Norah Jones, while one can see the song writing shimmer of Tori Amos weaving throughout the entire album. But comparing Sia to these renowned mistresses of pop fails to stress the originality of this album, something that raises it above the recent efforts by most, if not all of the above mentioned artists. Sia is by no means a cover-artist, the depth of her lyrics showing a woman who has matured long before an LP has been put to her name.

The production on the album is lush, but never outplays her voice with the majestic, sweeping strings and minimal percussion, obviously an influence left over from her time spent collaborating with space-pop maestros Zero 7 and trip-hop pioneers Massive Attack. The track The Girl You Lost to Cocaine jumps along with the same amount of nervous energy as the drug itself while Beautiful Calm Driving is an epic serenade that floats like a crisp night wind coming in through the window of your car. The cleverest moment is provided on Academia, a track with welcome guest vocals by Beck that over analyses the breakdown a relationship using academic equations:

"But to you I’m just a novel that you wish you’d never wrote

I’m greater than x and lesser than y,

so why is it that I still can’t catch your eye?

a cryptic crossword, a song I’ve never heard

While I sit here drawing circles I’m afraid of being hurt"

The songs are dense and complex, with several listens needed to fully appreciate their unique blend of sarcasm, melancholy and disturbing honesty. But they are also immediately catchy and memorable; a pretty rare quality these days that gives the album Van Morrison-like longevity. The Australian born lass has definitely found her direction in adult contemporary pop music, and while she may have Feist for competition it's a promising sign that she didn't spend her album telling us that she knows how to count to four.

A

The 2008 round up

2008-12-21T11:33:00.058+11:00

So after receiving an equal amount of praise and rocks thrown at me this time last year for my 2007 round up, why wouldn't i take the chance again to piss off some of you with my terrible choices and inspire others to listen to what i think has been the best 25 albums this year. As the Chemical Brothers once said girls and boys...Here We Go!

25. Little Red - Listen To Little Red

I'm pretty sure this album was on the jukebox in that Happy Days diner Fonzie used to always hang out at. Unashamedly pastiche, these guys avoid being turned into a joke by their ability to put a heartwarming smile on every face in the crowd and get you tappin' those toes like Buddy Holly would've wanted you to. Johnny B (very) Goode.
Key Track: Misty Eyes

24. Children Collide - The Long Now
The debut album from these Aussie alternative rockers nearly make it cool to wear flannel shirts again. Nearly. Combining an outer-space theme with a punk/grunge aesthetic, Children Collide deliver the goods with just plain old fashioned rock 'n' roll, with catchy melodies that will stick with you like herpes. Lyrics about distant planets and meteors have never had such romanticism and their songs are amazingly eclective for a debut, experimenting with different sounds, from dizzying 2 minute punk rockers to stadium anthems. Fun for the whole family.
Key Track: Farewell Rocketship

23. Laura Marling - Alas, I Cannot Swim
The one thing that sets this young woman apart from the plethora of other indie-folk beat poets is her stupidly high IQ. Taking pages from the gospels of The Decemberists and Fionn Regan, Alas, I Cannot Swim is so immersed in nuance and dense beauty that it is near impossible to take it all in at once. But patience is rewarded, as her lofty Kate Bush-like voice tells of the million and one skeletons in her closet in the most intelligent style since Conor Oberst.
Key Track: My Manic & I

22. Tokyo Police Club - Elephant Shell
The latest diamond from the quarries of the seemingly endless Canadian music scene, TCP impressed with their debut mini-album A Lesson In Crime but fell short of the greatness of their two most obvious influences, The Strokes and Bloc Party. Thankfully they found 4th gear on their first full-length LP and it shines the brightest due to its brevity. This might be an odd achievement for a band to put on its mantle at home but the catchiness and quirks of the songs come and pass through your headphones without ever out-staying their welcome. A lovely surprise considering the amount of self-indulgent assholes making music these days who have never heard of the word 'edit.' The album may have a similar sound radiating through-out but hey! that's just cause it's obvious each member of the band has listened to Is This It? a billion times, escaping punishment by keeping their entire album under 30 minutes.
Key Track: Tessellate

21. Atmosphere - When Life Gives You Lemons, You Paint That Shit Gold

Orchestral hip-hop anyone? Atmosphere confirm their importance in the genre with their most outwardly focused record to date. Tired of rapping about his own life, Brother Ali paints various portraits of the hard lives of those struggling to get by. The LP can almost be seen as a concept album, a homage to the less fortunate, with the socially important lyrics balanced by funky and creative sampling. The album also confirms that there really isn't anything cooler in hip-hop than rapping over a string section.

Key Track: Puppets

20. Elbow - The Seldom Seen Kid
Yeh. look. Good album. Mercury Prize worthy though? Hmm, something doesn't sit right with that one. Nevertheless, this is probably one of the best in that vague 'adult contemporary' genre that has sprung up in the last few years. It is however one of those double-edged swords that nobody likes because the downfall of that genre is that it is more boring than Miley Cyrus's underwear. Elbow is at its best when they are pushing the boundaries of conventional pop/rock music, creating unique sounds and structures that make me hope that The Panics are taking notes.
Key Track: Dead Heat: One Day Like This vs. Grounds For Divorce

19. MGMT - Oracular Spectacular
Yes, i realise i took them to the cleaners earlier this year. But i was right wasn't i? They sucked live. Didn't they? Admit it. Alright whatever, you still gotta hand it to them for coming up with some disgustingly catchy tunes on a debut effort. Over-rated and over-played as they were, they did show promise for the future. Is it possible to ban them from the radio?
Key Track: Weekend Wars

18. Hot Chip - Made In The Dark
They're creepy and they're kooky, mysterious and spooky, they're all together ooky, the Hot Chip Family! Music's biggest pack of weirdos return after the glorious dance/pop album The Warning with an even more left-field floor filler. Made in The Dark offers many surprises and even more melodic hooks as the boys push the definition of 'pop music' to the limits of space disco and back again. In a league of their own with no contemporaries, all hail the captains of one of the most progressive ships in the galaxy.
Key Track: Ready For The Floor

17. The Last Shadow Puppets – The Age of the Understatement

Well it wouldn't be a top 25 albums list without an appearance from Mr Alex Turner would it? Turning out his third #1 album in 3 years, the arctic monkey teams up with his buddy from The Rascals, Miles Kane and they escape to the South of France to write this orchestral, brooding and eloquent album. At first sounding like a series of possible James Bond themes, the album's dark intricacies are lured out on further listens and contains what possibly could be Turner's finest moment. Side-Projects should not be this captivating.
Key Track: My Mistakes Were Made For You

16. Sigur Rós - Med sud i eyrum vid spilum endalaust (With a Buzz in Our Ears We Play Endlessly)
I must say i am bias because i have been scarred forever by this band. If i had been reviewing this CD last year it would have said it was mind-blowing, but after their life changing set at Splendour in the Grass earlier this year, listening to their music through my shitty Sony speakers just does not do the experience justice. And that is precisely what Sigur Rós is, an experience, like Pink Floyd back in the days of your dad wearing tie-dye ponchos; this band is an acid-tripping, mind-altering exploration of the soul. Wow i just sounded like an NME hack didn't I? I should stop now. Put simply, their music is as perfect as Mozart's, and I'm pretty sure if you analyzed it closely enough it would be just as mathematically precise. Genius amplified.
Key Track: Goobledigook

15. Santogold - (Self-Titled)
Following in a long line of party albums that started with the naughtiness of Licensed To Ill by The Beastie Boys back when i was in nappies, Santogold uses her mentor Diplo to create the soundtrack to every party in 2008 had by someone in between the ages 17 - 25. In keeping with his Afro-beat fetish that orgasmed with Bondo-De-Role, Diplo triumphs behind the decks laying the alley-oop for Santogold to dunk like Jordan back in the 90's. Combining afro-beat and hip-hop, Santogold has an album that is addictive as crack and a reputation that is soaring with the likes of M.I.A.
Key Track: Creator

14. Josh Pyke - Chimney's A'Fire
Sending hearts a flutter with his boy-next-door charm on his debut Memories and Dust, Joshy (as his mum calls him) returns to satisfy society's recent tizzy infatuation with pop/folk music. Balancing his string swept arrangements around his multi-layered melancholic voice, Josh story-tells and serenades effortlessly, remaining proof that all you need to get into a woman's underwear these days is an acoustic guitar and a soulful, sensitive voice box.
Key Track: New Year's Song

13. Girl Talk - Feed the Animals

A party jukebox on cocaine. On Night Ripper, Gilles made his mark on the scene, this year's Feed The Animals blew his own genre out of the proverbial water and onto the nearest dance floor. He is every pop-culture fiend's wet dream mashing everything from Snoop Dogg and Westlife to Enya and 50 Cent. Chaotic is the understatement here as Girl Talk runs through snap shots of the last 60 years of music in under one hour. It will make you wonder how you partied before you heard of him.

Key Track: Shut The Club Down

12. Death Cab For Cutie - Narrow Stairs
The kings of melancholy return with a set that confirms their place among the indie-elite. Experimental production from guitarist Chris Walla gives the standard DCFC themes of love-loss and despair a new and unexpected twist, the eight and a half minute song about stalking a girl being one such delight. Thankfully such new tastes do not take away from the quality of Gibbard's masterful lyrics, forever twisting his words into a labyrinth of meaning. Narrow Stairs, while not being the highlight of their career, maintains the band's significance for all of the sensitive souls out there that prioritise intelligent rock music over oxygen.
Key Track: Grapevine Fires

11. Adele - 19
She might not be as good as Amy Winehouse but she wipes the floor with Duffy. That pretty much where Adele fits into this musical hemisphere of 'music you can put on to impress a girl.' This album is an incredibly mature debut from a girl telling us about her world as a 19 year old girl and how becoming a woman sometimes is a pretty shit thing to go through. Production guest-spots by Mark Ronson help and a voice that rivals Ella Fitzgerald will mean that this beautifully heavy-set lass from London will be around for years to come.
Key Track: Best For Last

10. Coldplay – Viva La Vida or Death and All His Friends
The English-U2 didn't so much as make an amazing record this year, but rather did an amazing job at convincing everyone that they did. I'm starting to think Coldplay's PR manager is even more talented than Chris Martin. This album is great in relativity, that is to say it's better than their previous effort X & Y, but if we are to be honest with ourselves, it's not as good as everyone says. It has a few good tracks, including first single Violet Hill, but even the catchiness of the title track became grating on that iPod ad. And don't even get me started on their whoring off the French Revolution, I'm all about bands trying new directions and images, but what the fuck has a nerdy English rock band got to do with Robespierre and The Terror? I'm looking forward to when Coldplay just want to be Coldplay again.
Key Track: Strawberry Swing

9. Snow Patrol - A Hundred Million Suns
Yes, I specifically placed it above Coldplay. How can the public diss this band so much while sucking Chris Martin's cock at the same time? Bad mental image? Good. You deserve it, because you've probably said bad words about Snow Patrol at one time or another and I'm guessing you've never even listened to one of their albums. Serves you right. These guys spent 8 long years in indie-purgatory before finally receiving critical acclaim (and a Mercury prize nomination) in 2004 for the amazing LP, Final Straw. They've done their time, and all it took one stupid, fricking song on Grey's Anatomy and radios decided to destroy them, dig up the corpse, and then all embrace necrophilia. Do you think Snow Patrol asked for their songs to be played 8 times an hour on radio? The answer is No. The truth is that the fickle nature of this industry ruins the reputation of hard working bands like these Glaswegians by saturating society with them until no one wants to see their faces anymore. And you know what, their album this year was actually better than Coldplay's, but no one listened to it. Shame.
Key Track: The Lightning Strike (Parts 1, 2 & 3)

8. Sia - Some People Have Real Problems
Totally original, totally catchy and totally smart. There's not much more we can ask for from this Australian song mistress. Nearly condemned to one-hit wonder status when a little show called Six Feet Under used her morbid song Breathe Me on the series finale - she will soon be famous for probably being our best up and coming songwriter with everyone from Christina Aguilera and Beck Hansen wanting a piece of Sia's pie. With a penchant for emotive and intelligent lyrics and a talent to carve melodious noises out of asbestos (if she had to), it seems this veteran of the industry is only just hitting her stride now, all i can say is thank god for late bloomers. Attention Miss Blasko, I think you have some competition...
Key Track: Soon We'll Be Found

7. Fleet Foxes - (Self-Titled)
A wood cabin at sunset in the middle of America's north-west wilderness. That is the feeling i get from this spectacular 1-part Simon and Garfunkel, 1-part Harvest-era Neil Young five-piece. Gorgeous harmonies over lush musicianship, Fleet Foxes provided the sleeper hit of the year with the skinny black jean wearers finally coming round to these bearded folk masters. Debut albums rarely sound so mature and accomplished.
Key Track: Blue Ridge Mountains

6. Cut/Copy - In Ghost Colours

Wow. Modular have really stepped up their game recently haven't they? Pnau, Ladyhawke, and these guys...the stargazing tripsters come good. Making the change from the come-down music for your Sunday morning to the night-club bangers that draw you to the d-floor at 3am when you should be getting in a taxi home - Cut/Copy turned up the volume on their amps to find they were shining brighter than neon love. Four anthemic singles before the album release is always a good sign of things to come and when In Ghost Colours slid into our stereo, it was the sound of every memorable and not-so memorable moment of our weekend. Well played boys. Well played.
Key Track: Far Away

5. The Presets - Apocalypso
The beginning of the end or the beginning of something great? The Presets second outing begins with a dominating frazzle of bleeps and falsetto vocals that even Soulwax would be proud of. Whoever said a band's second album is supposed to be 'difficult' obviously do not know Kim Moynes or Julian Hamilton. Unleashing singles of devastating glory not seen since Mylo dropped the pressure, the ripple effect in society was crushing...believe me, I saw librarians lose their shit to this music. Walking the tightrope between gorgeous electronic harmonies and disgustingly dirty beats; The Presets found their winning formula, giving them enough confidence to throw church organs and whatever the fuck else they wanted into the mix. But this was nothing compared to their piéce de résistance. 7 words. 8 syllables. That was all it took for these classically trained musos to change the history of Australian electronic music forever. And we were all here with all of our people...

Key Track: (apart from above mentioned classic) Talk Like That

4. Vampire Weekend - (Self-Titled)

Time for honesty. When i first saw this band, i wanted to punch them squarely in their FCUK'n preppy mouths. Then i heard them play. I heard their catchy, off-beat, afro-indie blend of pop music and i was hooked. They look like campus wankers but that's okay with me now because they don't pretend or claim to be anything else. In fact, they own it. The wankiest band since The Dandy Warhols they may be, but no one could say that they didn't create one of the most unique albums of this year. Oh yeah, and they fucking rock live.
Key Track: Oxford Comma

3. The Hold Steady - Stay Positive

"The best bar band in the world" give hope to the post-Bush trauma victim that is the United States of America, delivering a surprisingly direct message. Stay Positive is a homage to the American wasteland, telling stories of those lost and disparaged by the state of the nation. But rather than dwell on such tragedies, The Hold Steady in their rousing rabble style of bar rock rally the troops (figuratively) and deliver a gorgeously human and uplifting album. The perfect musical watermark for the beginning of a new administration as their Americana belies not only the inherent despair for their home country but more importantly their resolve for a better future. Music with such purpose has not resonated so loudly since Springsteen was Born To Run.
Key Track: Stay Positive

2. Bon Iver - For Emma, Forever Ago

An album of such intricate and delicate beauty is created so rarely that it makes you feel like you're desecrating it by placing your grubby fingers on the immaculate disc when you prize it from the plastic teeth inside the cover. Such is the effect Bon Iver has on his listener, his multi-layered falsetto has the ability to raise the hairs on your neck and if you happen to be several bottles of red down, perhaps bring a tear to your eye. The entire album is an emotional punch to the face as we follow our man's recovery from what must have been one helluva breakup. His lyrics and voice contrast beautifully with the rustic production of the album, something which just adds to its gripping romantic sentimentality. By the end of the rollercoaster you just want to give him a big hug and tell him everything's going to be okay, either that or crack open another bottle of red and play the album again...
Key Track: Skinny Love

1. Bloc Party - Intimacy
Who would have thought someone's emotional heartbreak and torment could be so rewarding and fruitful? Anyone who has ever bought an album by The Smiths I guess...Evolving the subtle beauty of their debut, Silent Alarm and combining it with the ferocious electronic rock mash of their early 2006 release A Weekend In The City, the third album from the Brit rockers is the perfect metaphorical progression of our relationship with the band...on the first album when we first met our front man Kele, he was nice, pretty cool but kept everything on a superficial level. Second time around we saw a bit more emotion, a bit of anger, a bit of darkness, something behind the veneer of indie aloofness. We thought he was becoming quite an interesting person. Now, in 2008, in our third meeting, he lets us into his head, sharing with us his deepest fears, regrets and joys. Intimacy is a ride of emotions, both the most tempered and most fragile Bloc Party release yet, and my gosh is it captivating. On Signs, a song written about a deceased lover, Kele whispers, "I see signs now all the time, that you're not dead you're sleeping, I believe in anything, that brings you back home to me." This record marks the first where our beloved front man openly talks about his sexuality and themes regarding his homosexuality are spotted throughout the diary-come-album. Refreshingly honest and at times shockingly brutal, Bloc Party surpasses all previous efforts and expectations, proving they cannot be pidgeon-holed as another upstart riding the Renaissance wave of Britpop. This crowning achievement makes its title all the more apt, how much closer do we feel to Kele now?

Key Track: Ion Square

Thirteen Tales of Pretentious Self-Indulgence

2008-11-07T12:07:00.017+11:00

So i went to see the kings of cock-rock last night, The Dandy Warhols, play at the Metro (i'm still refusing to call it the Palace in petty protest), and sadly the only thing more disappointing than the bartender pouring my corona into a plastic cup, was The Dandy's themselves.

I'm usually one that's all for over-exaggeration after a gig, i get lost in the moment, the adrenaline, the groupies, the drugs, the whatever and i end up walking out of the venue screaming the band's praises to anyone that will listen about how that's the best gig I've seen in years blah blah blah...

But last night i was pretty bored. And don't get me wrong, I love the psych-trippin', one of the most amazing gigs this year was the Dandy's older brother band, The Brian Jonestown Massacre - but last night i saw first hand what many had told me before, that Courtney Taylor-Taylor has got nothin' on Anton Newcombe.

Last night The Dandy Warhols seemed to be a band that after so many years of enjoying the hedonistic excesses of the limelight, were ashamed of their commercial success, playing as if they wanted to sit in the cult indie throne their older brothers held. And what i mean by that is that they played for themselves, not the crowd who had paid (an overpriced) $90 to come see them. Their performance seemed like a bad rehearsal in their home garage in Portland, Oregon, which would be fine if you were a genius cult band that had never reached the mainstream or sold millions of cds. But the Dandy Warhols have, and no matter how hard they try to reclaim an underground following, they can't, they are a mainstream pop band on a major label, and have been for years. Trying to be anything else just makes them look like assholes.

The most depressing part of the night was that their set list was fantastic, with well placed crowd favourites amongst songs from their new album ...Earth To The Dandy Warhols... but it was almost as if they weren't the ones who wrote the damn list, they rushed through all of their hits, mumbling or distorting the words or even lazier, getting the crowd to sing the entire song for them (Get Off). Conversely their extended psychedelic wanderings were given all of the effort, time and showmanship you would expect from a band that has been at the forefront of mainstream alternative music since their debut ...The Dandy Warhols Come Down. Their outright disdain for their pop songs ruined the show, as the crowd would scream and cheer as they heard the start of one of their many anthems only to have a weird look on their face 3 and a half minutes later because the song was played out of tune or in double time.

Now i have to ask myself, If i was in a rock band and I hated my hits, why would i put them on the set list? Actually, why would i be touring in the first place? Bohemian Like You, Get Off, We Used To Be Friends, Minnesoter, Not If You Were The Last Junkie On Earth and All The Money Or The Simple Life Honey were all failures, complete and utter failures, with crucial instruments even missing on some tracks, including the synth on We Used To Be Friends and the famous drum-intro on Bohemian Like You. Only the trippier hits, Godless and The Last High were exceptions to this and were played brilliantly.

But anyone who knows me would guess that this only pissed me off further, because it was obvious that it was not as if Courtney & Co. had done some bad pills before the show or had a bad voice on the night. The fact he nailed those two hits along with the rest of his border-line indulgent psychedelic tracks only showed the potential for how good the other, more loved songs could have been.

Some bands piss me off for loading their set lists with obscure nonsense that show you that they don't care about what the crowd wants to hear, and the trick as a musician is always about finding that balance between crowd-pleasers and concert songs, but for the Dandy's to know what we want to hear and deliberately not give a fuck because they're sick of the songs of whatever...that's fucking disgusting.

After last night, I'm over The Dandy Warhols, and while i may not send name-engraved bullets to their hotel room like Anton, I think I'll save my money next time they decide to grace our shores with their genius.

...Earth To The Dandy Warhols...you're not nearly as cool as you used to be.

D

No Hawkers Please!

2008-11-02T11:23:00.009+11:00

Has anyone else noticed that Ladyhawke's collaboration with Pnau, Embrace - featured on Pnau's self titled album - is significantly better (in every possible way) than anything on Ladyhawke's own album?

Disturbingly so. This young diva, who has burst on to the scene with the help from some heavy marketing from her Modular maestros is altogether unremarkable.

A pale imitation to Debbie Harry in every way, Ladyhawke uses her amazing voice to little effect on the majority of her first LP, which is quite a shame considering all the hype she is recieving, and a disapointment for anyone who thought Modular were going to continue their hot streak this year.

Apart from headlining the Hot BBQ Festival this New Years Day above Aussie Hip-Hop kings The Herd and deck-melters Boys Noize...the young New Zealander has been added to Modular's 10th Birthday celebrations, a sequel to last year's Daft Punk smackdown NeverEverLand....amongst the likes of Cut/Copy and The Presets, but this little disco-boy doesn't think she's earned her stripes.

Sadly, she is riding the waves of success her label mates have created for her, and honestly it sucks to know that if she hadn't blossomed in the most fertile season of Australian music since Friday was on the mind of the Easybeats, she wouldn't have made it thus far.

If i was Ladyhawke's manager i'd be hiring Nick Littlemore and Peter Mayes to write her some more songs or else her career will be burning along with Paris and her over styled hair...

Hometown Glory

2008-10-09T14:40:00.043+11:00

He's the type of guy you could take home to your mother; sweet, intelligent and you know he'd call you the morning after. I am of course talking about Josh Pyke, Australia's way of making it up to the world for allowing Keith Urban to sing...to exist. His second full-length LP is Chimney's A'Fire, and while the title may sound like a chapter out of a Dickens novel, Josh should be congratulated for overcoming the trap that many artists fall into of repeating the clichés we've heard a million times before in his brand of folk-pop. Thank be to God there are no "i love you, i love you, i love you...", "you're so beautiful" or any other kind of crap that have nearly destroyed every man with an acoustic guitar's chance to be taken seriously. No, no, no, i am happy to say Josh cooks up a more sophisticated flavour of love and loss. That being said, unfortunately the concession for this lyrical smart has been a certain amount of musical monotony, that taints the album due to a significant lack of variety between upbeat and down-tempo songs.

Last year, Josh Pyke featured in my top albums list of 2007 - his first album Memories & Dust provided confirmation that the folk-pop troubadour had the lyrical wax to match any of the Damien Rice's and Ryan Adams's out there. Barely a year later, he has released part two, and it's pretty much just more memories and more dust - Chimney's A'Fire is not so much a jump forward but a shimmy to the side of what we've already heard from this Sydneysider.

This album could have a polarising effect on fans due to the fact that musically - it is remarkably (and somewhat disappointingly) similar. Generally the melodies and arrangements of the songs are basically the same as those on the debut album if not slightly more complicated. But its complexity does not pay off completely, as it rarely does in this genre, and the result is unfortunately predictable and sometimes boring music. There are the basic finger-picking guitar ditties and the sweeping majestic string accompaniments but none of the twists and turns that could have made the songs that little bit more catchy and memorable.

Add this folly to the baffling fact that Josh, who produced the album himself has begun the album with the most sleepy and downright forgettable track - which does not make for good first impressions. What's worse is that track two, You Don't Scare Me is such an upbeat, catchy song, it makes you think that there is more to come. Alas, there is not, as track 3, The Summer serenades in, a song so saturated in nostalgia that you might as well sit the kids down and tell them the story of how you met their mother at a Bee Gees tribute show and how petrol used to only cost 75c a litre.

This being said, what Chimney's A'Fire lacks in musical nerve and freshness it makes up for with such accomplished lyrical density that you start to wonder whether the album will be nominated for an ARIA award or the Noble Prize for Literature. Okay, maybe that's an unjustified over-statement, but what I'm trying to say is this guy can string some words together; take the last verse from The Summer:

"But time is like the ocean,
you can only hold a little in your hands,
so swim before we’re broken,
before our bones become,
black coral on the sand."

Okay i know out of the context of the songs it sounds a bit pretentious, but believe me, when you hear him say it, he might as well be Socrates. Well maybe not Socrates, but Josh definitely has the ability to make even his most Snow Patrol lyrics not make you wanna beat the crap outta him. His sincerity alone keeps him afloat and pretty much gives him wuss-immunity for the entirety of the album.

Never quite straying from the lullaby tempo, the album is best listened to as a whole rather than individually, assuming you're not driving or operating heavy machinery at the time. If Josh doesn't impress you in the first innings, he finishes a lot stronger than he started, with the penultimate and closing tracks delicately showing his class and growth as a songwriter. New Year's Song should be praised above all other songs on this album for its innovative phrasing that has already characterised Pyke in his brief career, with an extraordinary ability to make the mundane sound wistful as he opens the song observing,

"If you’re freezing on your left side,
And you’re boiling on your right side,
Then I guess you might be warm upon the line,
There are many ways one can divide a life,
And I’ve got mine"

Closing track, Where Two Oceans Meet while at first seems like a book-end waste of time like the first track, runs deeper than first impressions. It reminds me of Ben Harper circa. 1997 - a very good thing indeed. Slow and meditative with gospel inflected beauty, Josh shows a different side of his pallet branching out from his folk-pop to deeper territory, exactly what he needs to be doing at this point in his career.

With more balls than his physique gives him credit for, Chimney's A'Fire shows off Josh's natural talent as a producer. The drawback of producing your own work though is always going to be becoming too one-eyed because there isn't another person in the studio to draw you in different directions. And while that may be the case with this largely down-tempo second LP, Josh succeeds on a whole due largely to his unmistakable talent as a songwriter getting him over the line. With enough diamonds in the rough, this album only promises more to come, with his lyrical muscle flexing and his musical landscape not shifting too far from the comfort zone of his fans, something they will either love or become easily frustrated with. For me, while there are patches of mediocrity the beauty of the album is infectious and for now I'm just going to stay warm upon the line.

B+

7th Heaven...?

2008-10-08T23:53:00.018+11:00

I read something about the mythical 7th album for bands the other day...

The Beatles - Rubber Soul
Rolling Stones - Beggar's Banquet

Oasis - Dig Out Your Soul

I know what you're thinking, so sod off. I am not one of those Oasis maniacs that every time a new album is brought out I quiver upon hearing Liam's raspy voice. Nor do I still claim that they're the best band in the world - though their live show is spectacular. Therefore i too nearly choked on my toasted sandwich upon reading such a gloriously ostentatious comparison in one trashy English music mag. But should we really be surprised by such a claim? Each album since the decade-defining duo (Definitely Maybe & Morning Glory) have seen the precariously obnoxious Gallagher brothers declare that it's the best record since Sgt. Pepper's. Yet many critics, half in awe of their god-like status in Britain, do not dare say otherwise, as if afraid of being on the receiving end of a notorious acid spray from the silver tongue of Gallagher Snr.

So it was with great anticipation but also apprehension that i listened to the new album by these Mancunian gobshites, and you know what? It was actually fucking good. Better than good, it was brilliant...and all of a sudden i was off guard, I hadn't prepared myself for this, it almost felt like I was back in '96 listening to Wonderwall on double tape over and over again (I was 8 years old, gimme a break...) It sounded as if Oasis had stopped giving a fuck about being the world's greatest band, and for the first time in a decade had just started playing some good old fashioned Britpop.

The next problem was writing this piece, how do you tell people Oasis are amazing again without sounding like a groupie fuckwit that is still clinging to the group's past glory? They had let their fans down for over ten years, surely no one would listen to me screaming from the rooftops that things had suddenly changed...for real this time. So anyway i cracked open some cleanskin Shiraz and started typing away...

I got about 200 words in before i found this...

Now usually I would not post another writer's material - it's just not narcissistic enough - but seriously, not only am I going to give you someone else's review - it's from NME. Pretty much the main culprit of the last 10 years of Oasis dick-sucking and unnecessary glorifying - but here I was reading a review by one Barry Nicolson and it was expressing (much better than i was doing at the time) every single thought i had in my mind. So I thought, "Fuck it" and without further adieu...

One wonders what the young, hungry and infinitely profane Noel Gallagher – the yob-poet gob o’the North with a ring of coke crust around his nostrils and a sheaf of era-defining songs stuffed into his back pocket – would have made of his older, wiser and still infinitely profane self these days. From atop his citadel he watches keenly with magpie eyes the comings and goings of a musical landscape he helped to shape. He deigns to descend from time to time to pour scorn where needed or praise where deserved. Occasionally, he gets his band together and they make an album. The album itself tends to be less important than the act of its creation; nobody really expects anything earth-shattering but it’s nice to know Oasis are still around, like dormant gods of a bygone era, stirring occasionally in their slumber but never approaching anything like full potency. They’re the sort of band a youthful Noel Gallagher, the one whose ‘Rock ‘n’ Roll Star’ dreams weren’t real quite yet, might have snortingly derided as something unprintable.

Yet, despite the fact he’s made it explicit in recent interviews he doesn’t give a monkey’s what anyone says about Oasis, if there’s one thing that strikes you immediately on your first listen to Dig Out Your Soul, it’s that it sounds like a band not exactly reinvented, but certainly rejuvenated. There’s a new-band urgency and invention to it, a sense that Oasis are no longer straining to ‘be Oasis’. Take into consideration, for example, the fact there’s no big piano anthem, à la Stop Crying Your Heart Out, nor yer-my-besht-mates moment like Little By Little or Let There Be Love. The closest we get to a ballad is the floaty psychedelia of Liam’s I’m Outta Time. In fact, Dig Out Your Soul is – more or less – the rough’n’ready rock’n’roll album the Gallaghers threaten to make every time the critics are down on their current effort but somehow never get round to.

Opener Bag It Up – complete with a not-so-subtle steal from It’s Raining Men, of all places – is a pounding rhythmic mess of distorted psych-rock that doesn’t sound like the work of a band in their 15th year. It sounds vibrant and cocky and a little bit cheeky, with Liam snarling about having his “Heebiejeebies in a little bag” and “going for a walk with the monkey man” before a coda that fades into a swell of noise. It’s still unmistakably Oasis, but it’s playful, less obvious and unafraid of going into unexpected places. The Turning continues in this vein by getting into what could technically be classed as a ‘groove’ (not to be confused with ‘going dance’, mind), with a verse consisting of a melodic drone of classic Oasis garble (“We live with the numbers, mining a dream for the same old song”) that gives way to a climactic BRMC-style pseudo-biblical chorus about rapture and fallen angels. Dark and brooding, it’s only part two of a five-song streak that represents the strongest start to an Oasis album in years.

Lead single The Shock Of The Lightning is a pretty good approximation of where Oasis are at in 2008. That same Gallagher swagger still courses through it, but it doesn’t have to rely on terrace-chant choruses (of which Noel’s probably exhausted himself by now) to get its point across. The Noel-sung Waiting For The Rapture similarly shirks the obvious route, with its ragged Five To One riffage sounding almost like a poppier Queens Of The Stone Age. But let’s not marginalise Liam. Of his three contributions to Dig Out Your Soul, one is truly inspired, one is merely good and the third is a bit rubbish, albeit in a fun way. The former is I’m Outta Time, the album’s softest moment, which sounds not unlike a softer, sweeter Comfortably Numb (without all the heroin doom, obviously).

Liam’s no Morrissey, but what he lacks in lyrical nous he makes up for in sheer audible soul and wide-eyed earnestness. That said, “If I’m to fall, would you be there to applaud?/Or would you hide behind them all?” sounds like it might be directed towards the ever-critical Noel. Soldier On, meanwhile, is a doomy, swirling psychedelic march set to a looping blues riff that closes the album in suitably atmospheric fashion, and Ain’t Got Nothin’ – about his infamous Munich brawl of 2002 – is spirited but a bit inconsequential, with Liam’s rasped instruction of “Here’s a song, sing along” belying its rather lazy rehashing of the previous album’s The Meaning Of Soul. It’s one of a handful of duds, of which The Nature Of Reality’s cod-mystic quagmire is probably the worst offender, with more vague lyrical clichés about all things on, of and in the mind over a sluggish melody that doesn’t really go anywhere. Gem’s To Be Where There’s Life – another of Oasis’ infrequent dabblings with the east – is a bit better, its drone-rock groove (there’s that word again) at least a sideways detour into new-ish musical vistas, but it doesn’t quite come off. There’s the sneaking suspicion that the songwriting democracy installed by Noel to steady the ship after Standing On The Shoulder Of Giants may not always be compatible with quality control.

But just when you worry things might flounder, The Chief crops up with a song as good as anything he’s written this century. Falling Down is a distant cousin of both his Chemical Brothers collaboration Setting Sun and Don't Believe The Truth’s Part Of The Queue – a swoonsome, blissed-out melody sung by Noel over jaunty, ever-shifting drums. Atone point he declares “We live a dying dream/If you know what I mean”. Nope, we’ve got no idea either, but it’s one of those grand Oasis moments where you don’t have to.

So, where does all this leave them? Well, when you consider Oasis’ largest evolutionary leap so far has been using drum loops on a couple of Standing On The Shoulders Of Giants tracks, Dig Out Your Soul sounds like an astounding act of musical creationism. Liam continues to impress as a songwriter, although he’s at his best and most inventive when he’s at his sweetest. And Noel, for his part, seems no longer bound by slavish devotion to writing typically ‘Oasis’ songs, with Oasis all the richer for it. But more than anything else, there’s a feeling that Dig Out Your Soul might actually be their best album in over a decade. In other words, not quite the fabled, oft-promised “Best one since fookin’ Definitely Maybe!” but certainly the best one since fookin’ Morning Glory. And you never thought you’d hear that, did you?

B+

So while the album may not be Rubber Soul - it's most likely as close as Oasis are going to get to it in the 21st century, which is enough for me, (and the tens of thousands of Brits that will fill Wembley Stadium a few times over).

MGMT - There! I said it!

2008-10-06T20:18:00.021+11:00

Where to start with MGMT. So many things annoy me with this band i don't even know where to begin. Firstly, their name is dumb and it's derived from the even stupider name, "Management." Secondly, their album cover, costumes and over all demeanor smacks so hard of trying to be different from the so-called mainstream that they are pretty much an oxymoron. Note to MGMT: you are the fucking mainstream.

This fabricated facade is even more infuriating due to the fact that it's already been done in the 80's, the record executives are just re-hashing a marketing plan to people who are too young too remember the glam-rock days of old. Well, who'd want to remember them anyway? But still, this is most likely the reason no one over the age of 25 has paid any attention to MGMT - they are a collage of every 80's style the world has since tried to destroy, most of which can be found at any local opp shop. My point being, they're not that fucking unique.

The majority of my reluctance to join their world-dominating cult though stems from the simple fact that their music is not as good as everyone says it is. Seriously, the second half of the album is like drinking sour milk, you don't notice how bad it is until it's halfway down your throat...but even this wouldn't be as bad if they didn't cock tease their listeners with momentary flashes of brilliance that promise so much more than they deliver.

Opening track Time To Pretend is harmless if not a bit mundane. It has all the predictable weird effects on keyboard synths and electro-tampered vocals that (Yawn, sorry) have been playing in shit indie nightclubs through even shittier sound systems for years; the only difference is that these guys are on a major record label and have a higher publicity budget. Add this predictability to the fact that the lyrics are based on the lives of Pete Doherty and Kate Moss. The band they will say they are trying to be ironic or that they're making social comment. But they are still dedicating the first song on their debut CD to one of the most over-rated. fuckwit musicians in modern music and his paper-thin, air head model ex-girlfriend. Both of these people should not ever be the focus of a song or any other form of popular culture, it's just demeaning to art.

Weekend Wars is one such flash of brilliance I mentioned before, a four minute lightning flash of brilliance that makes you hope a storm is coming. The tampered vocals are gone, the over-produced sound is gone and the lyrics are semi-decent. Pretty much all of the
things that hampered the opening track disappear, replaced by a dreamy chorus and a rollicking beat that saves first impressions. Hopes are high at this point.

Despite having a name that makes it sound like a Jonestown hymn or something those Hillsong people would have printed on their shirts, The Youth is a perfectly fine and forgettable third track. But even right now as i write this, i can't remember a single lyric or what it sounds like, so I'm going to have to go put it on before I write anymore...that itself says a lot doesn't it? Oh yeah now i remember, more tampered vocals, more weird noises. Surprise surprise! The verses are shithouse, incredibly slow and meaningless but the chorus is somewhat catchy if not slightly grating and a wee bit annoying. Still, the overall song is inoffensive, a neutral song that some critics would call a waste at this point in an album. In hindsight, it sadly might be a highlight of the album, funny how things turn out like that...

Single Electric Feel is good. Yes i agree it's good. It's kooky, it's cool, it hits the right edges, but it is you that have made this song shit. Yes, you. Plus the fact that them singing about electric eels reminds me of a weird sex show i saw in Thailand once. But mostly its the public, with its unjust, over-emphasised glory and hype leading it to be played on 6 different radio stations simultaneously that have killed it. So thanks, thanks a lot for that, i hope you teeny boppers with your fucking ringtones are fucking happy now because it's dead. It's in the ground and for people like me, it's never coming back again. You can dig it up and throw this jewel in the shitpile that is the rest of the album because i can't stand hearing it anymore!

The only thing else on the album that comes close to the gold MGMT fans must see covering the CD is the song Kids. Now this is the part where all the indie-not-so-indie-lovers will complain, "That's like the BEST song on the album!" It's over five fucking minutes and has an eight-bar melody. It's too fucking long! Yes the intro is cool and i dig it as well, i definitely think it's very catchy, but isn't anyone else sick of it after 5 minutes of repetitiveness? The band milked it, plain and simple. If it was three and a half minutes long i would be agreeing with all the skinny-jean wearing, deathly-white looking boys who swear by this so-called anthem - but that extra 2 minutes just shows that MGMT do not have enough experience in this bizz to know when a song is going to drag on. An amateur mistake that wastes the potential for a classic song.

Look to be honest i don't want to even waste my time writing about how mediocre the rest of the album is. The last five songs drop off considerably from the edge MGMT had been resting on uneasily so far in the album. Of Moons, Birds & Monsters is the only song of note that manages to pass a test of whether i can listen to a song all the way through. It should be commended for that, it comes to a pretty cool climax, if not taking its sweet time to get there.

While there is definitely room for improvement, the band shows hints that they can make a cool song, but this album doesn't deliver more than one. As for all their unjustified praise and adoration, well i have to come back to my prophet Alex Turner who said "I guess all that's left, is the proof that love's not only blind but deaf." (Sigh) Maybe I'm getting to old for this sort of thing.

C

Narrow Stairs lead to success

2008-06-04T19:47:00.049+10:00

"Darker", "experimental" and "emotionally raw"; just some of the buzz phrases banded around by the bloggers before the May 13th release of Death Cab For Cutie's album Narrow Stairs. All of which, seem to be as useful as a CPR unit arriving at a cemetery.

So here comes the rant. Firstly, Death Cab For Cutie have never been the lightest band on the planet; they earned their fame by eloquently and accurately describing the heartaches and insecurities of Generation Y. The band is respected for this because with Ben Gibbard's lyrics and Chris Walla's melodies, they do it better than any of the eyeliner-clad bands screaming about life's mundane difficulties. Secondly, Death Cab have always been experimental, We Looked Like Giants off 2002's Transatlanticism wasn't exactly in A-A-B-A structure, and the title track, an 8-minute epic ode to long distance love took a patient 6 and a half minutes to reach its spine shuddering climax. Not exactly Top 40 material. As for emotionally raw, could they possibly top the morbid hollowness of the lyric, "love is watching someone die..." from their 2005 track, What Sarah Said?

So it's fair to say all this hype about a supposed new direction was generated purely for media attention, either that, or it was to keep the indie-rock faithfuls blinded to the fact that Death Cab For Cutie are now corporate sell-outs, sitting comfortably in the boardroom chairs of Atlantic Records. And well, whatever the motive was, it was a success, the wool was over the eyes. After releasing the 9 and a half minute single, I Will Possess Your Heart they garnered the attention of both music critics and fans alike; the internet forums buzzing about their so-called different soundscape and dangerous experimentation.

Well, whatever misconceptions were hypothesised, they all evaporated once the album was released and it became clear that the barriers of what music could be were not being broken, frankly, it was just another Death Cab For Cutie album. That isn't to say that it isn't good. It's far from good. It's brilliant. It is a fully formed masterpiece of emotional depth and chamber pop melody. With Narrow Stairs the four boys from Seattle take the production maturity of their previous record Plans, and strip it down to raw, static filled, natural beauty. It is the sound of four band members switching on the mics and amps and playing like they were a high-school band jamming in a dusty garage. The music sounds alive, and not like each song has individually and painstakingly been put through 20 takes and several months under the switchboard.

Opening track Bixby Canyon Bridge lulls its listener into thinking it is just another Death Cab lullaby before a heavily distorted guitar drops, changing the tempo and meaning of the song. The frustrated guitar strums mimic Ben's lyrics as he illustrates his fruitless search for meaning and any sort of enlightenment at Bixby Canyon, declaring "i want to know my fate, if i keep up this way." The song's progression both melodically and lyrically intensifies as his hopes of being inspired by the serene environment silently crashes down in front of him with the realisation there's no divine epiphany to be had. The allusions to Jack Kerouak, the famous beat writer who escaped to Bixby Canyon to write Big Sur are subtle yet telling, as Ben tries to tap into the mystical atmosphere, conceding, "i trudge back to where the car is parked, no closer to any kind of truth as i must only assume was the case with you."

Many critics in the past have commented on Gibbard's likeness to a young Bob Dylan, not in social conscience but moreso articulation and vision. Chief songwriter for the band, Gibbard is blessed with the ability to convey the disturbances of people's souls, describing emotional torment and tragedy with vivid detail and accuracy. Though with that being said, Death Cab For Cutie are not a band that deal with the extremities of love and hate or death and life; rather they explore the inner complications of these existences. For this, some cynics label Ben a depressing pessimist, but his uncompromising honesty about human nature and insight into normally unchartered emotional terrain in popular music is what secures his reputation as one of the few lyrical geniuses of the 21st century.

This is most prominently seen in the song Cath... which ventures into familiar Gibbard territory, exploring yet another emotion that would usually be all too complicated for most songwriters to grasp. The song tells the story of a young girl who is falling into the wrong marriage, vividly describing the wedding day; "the well intentioned man", "the hand-me-down wedding dress" and "the whispers that it won't last" paint a pitiful portrait. The painful inaction in the lyrics expressing the hopelessness of the girl "who holds a smile like someone would hold a crying child." The observations of a tainted celebration epitomising Ben's ability to write complex narratives into hook-filled melodies, as the final lines tell of his personal pity and understanding at Cath's position confiding, "i'd have done the same as you..."

Grapevine Fires, the most melodically beautiful of all eleven vignettes trots along with Chris Walla's off-beat piano soothing its listener in atmospheric space, reminiscent of previous album (and career) highlight Brothers on a Hotel Bed. It is a simple tale of watching a young girl play in a graveyard behind the backdrop of Los Angeles bush fires, yet it is in this simplicity that the band finds its most emotionally affecting moment. Juxtaposing the happy nïavity of youth with the destruction of the fires, a message resembling 'carpe diem' lies just beneath the surface of the song's narrative as Ben warns, "it's only a matter of time until we all burn". And as he muses his thoughts like they are floating in his head, wistfully and detached, his resignation is balanced by a resound security, speaking words like an old sage, "that everything will be alright." Such calmness in the face of disaster mirrors the ominous melody of the track and shows the wisdom of a man who has weathered the pain of loss and accepts the inevitability of destruction.

Though in the end the fault of Narrow Stairs is that it cannot maintain the subtly in language and metaphor Grapevine Fires shows the potential for. Your New Twin Size Bed and the closing track, The Ice is Getting Thinner are both centered around basic and obvious metaphors for love-loss. And with Death Cab's catalogue filled with so many deeper and smarter tracks based on that same theme, Tiny Vessels and Title & Registration to name just two, there just isn't room for mediocrity on such a clichéd subject in popular music.

Still, such nitpicking is merely a product of trying to find a fault in a band who, with each album is setting the benchmark for what pop music should be in the 21st century. Narrow Stairs is a catchy, intelligent and serious pop record, one that should be hailed for its melodic complexity as much as its lyrical intensity and melancholy. Sadness in all its forms, never sounded so sweet.

A

Bursting Out Of My (Summer) Skin

2008-05-13T12:01:00.005+10:00

I think the check-out chick at JB Hi Fi thought i was on speed or something. Such was my excitement at having Death Cab For Cutie's much hyped, long awaited LP Narrow Stairs in my hands. After 4 back-to-back listens, i will now boldly state it is an accomplished masterpiece of both melody and lyric, and that Ben Gibbard's eloquence and intelligence is unsurpassed in pop music today. Watch this space for an impending full review. I expect this album to be high on every critic's list come December.

That is all for now.
Good Night and Good Luck

BIFF! SPLAT! POW! BOOM! KABLAM!

2008-05-03T17:05:00.028+10:00

It was with great anticipation that i got the chance to chat to up and coming mash-slash DJs, KABLAM! - Over the past few years these boys have made their name in the rainy city the hard way. By that i mean they've done their fair share of hustlin' with tryhard, egotist little boys who want nothing more than a late night set at a drug-infested club every Tuesday, Thursday & Saturday night.

The road definitely hasn't been easy, considering that there's a current ratio of 1 DJ for every 5 meters on Planet Earth, and granted most of them can mix relatively well, the only catalyst is their song selections. The key is don't play what everyone else does. But obviously I'm preaching to the converted here as KABLAM's regular online mix-tapes have received waves of praise on the mercurial forums - which is not surprising, the two Melbourne boys possess a record collection that would shame Beck and a skill that seamlessly melts the old funk of the day with progressive noise...what results from this is fun, unpretentious house music that gets people boogieing like Uma Thurman in Pulp Fiction, and that's something for everyone to enjoy.

I'm not the only kid on the black who's noticed though, interest is steadily growing in the multimedia and film students following memorable performances supporting the likes of Bag Raiders, Ajax and the legendary French electronic bassist Fred Falke. Now with their forthcoming support gig for Alan Braxe, the brain and fingers behind the Upper Cuts and famed (if not over-played) anthem "Music Sounds Better With You", the boys finally seem to be receiving the recognition they've earned for their eclectic and unpredictable sets.

So there i sat with them, as much a fan as i was any sort of professional. The Lucky Coq provided the $4 pizzas, if you've never had saganaki on pizza before, i recommend it highly...

So, second year into the job and you're already playing with the dude who's worked with Thomas Bangalter (Mr. Daft Punk sans helmet). How the hell have you landed here?
Marty: (laughs) Umm I guess we just fluked it. We hung around DJ booths too much i guess...
Tom: Yeh we were just DJ clingers at Eurotrash for like ages and the promoter for (DJ) Streetparty very drunkenly asked if we could DJ.
Marty: The next week i think we got offered a gig at Pogo but it got canceled ten minutes before we were supposed to play. That was shattering, so we got drunk and went out.
Tom: Haha yeh that's the night we partied with (famous European DJ) Kissy Sell Out, that was so random. Streetparty made it up to us though by giving us a gig at Fashion Keyboard the next week. We fuckin' nailed that gig.

So do good performances fuel the scene? What do you guys think of the scene at the moment?
Tom: Well it's a hell of a lot better than Sydney that's for sure. Melbourne knows how to party, but Sydney just chin-stroke and watch you play.
Marty: Yeah the scene is good but it's very DJ fueled, the venues struggle a bit because the crowd goes just where the good DJs are. It has taken (Melbourne night club) Third Class at least a year and a half to get a regular crowd. There's no loyalty to the clubs themselves anymore.
Tom: There's no good sets anymore either though. Back in the day when every second person on the street wasn't a DJ you would have decent sets. At least 2 hours. Now you're lucky to get an hour, which isn't enough time to build a set at all, it's like you're always playing a greatest hits set.

Do you find yourself in competition with other DJ's for billings or slots?
Marty: Not really, we'll usually help each other if we can, but we still have to push to get numbers, ask to get people to come down and see us. The only time DJ's get shitty at eachother is when a night gets big numbers and certain timeslots get pushed back, and there's delays and stuff. People just get angry if they feel as if they're being fucked over, the same with any job.

Is there any back-bitching between different club DJs or DJs with different styles?
Marty: There's more conflict between promoters, because if one of us plays at one event and the other plays a different event, the organisers will get shitty if we're advertising two gigs.
Tom: Which sucks balls! That's why we get left off the posters and ads sometimes because angry promoters don't like that we're playing several places in one night. As for other DJ's, the only thing that gets me is the people who play purely Ableton or only CDJs and call themselves a DJ. if it's all going to be pre-made you might as well be playing it off your iPod.
Marty: I don't hate people who play CDs, but there has to be a live element to it. We use Ableton sometimes to clean up our sound, but if you're playing at a club and you are going to add a vocal track, do it live. The Yacht Club DJs are probably the best for that. They do great live mashing.

So has your style changed over the past year? What direction are you guys going in these days?
Marty: At the start we were just following the blogs. Mainly Discobelle and the like, which was good at first but it meant that a lot of who we were playing with were playing the same tunes as us.
Tom: These days we want what other people haven't got. Or we like to play what people used to love but have forgotten about.

So how are you finding music now?
Tom: Recommendations from people mostly.
Marty: And mixtapes. Just listening to different people's sets and getting tracklistings and exploring artists we don't know. I think we're getting a lot more confident in playing weird shit.

So who would you say your main influences for DJing are?
Marty: Well DJ Yoda's (BBC) Essential Mix started it all for me. Then i guess the Bang Gang DeeJays and the Dreamtime Mixtape, DFA and definitely Monkey (Marty's brother, a local funk/soul DJ hero). But now it's kind of changing, more chill people like Aeroplane, the things i'm listening to at the moment are influencing what i want to play.
Tom: For me it was the Discobelle Christmas Mix a few years back, Bag Raiders as well, I've learned so much from those boys. And even (Tom pauses and starts grinning) I'm going to go out on a limb here and say even Van Damage back in his early days. (Marty starts laughing)

Where do you guys see the electronic music scene in five years?
Marty: (with the straightest of faces) Robots yeh? It'll all be robots. Haha nah umm i don't really know, the scene is moving so fast, the large clubs can't sustain themselves, they keep closing down and having "grand" re-openings. i think how Berlin is now is where we will be in 5 years, hopefully anyway. Just lots of small clubs catering for niché groups and tastes. Kinda like what we have on Fitzroy St, except more widespread.

Do you two find yourselves increasingly separated from eachother for gigs? What do you think of performing separately as opposed to as a team?
Tom: Well i guess we take it as a compliment, if more than one person wants us it's a good thing. We're certainly getting used to it.
Marty: I guess we're more spontaneous together, because one of us will have a great idea for the next track and just interrupt and go with it. Plus we have very different styles of playing separately so when we play together it keeps things interesting.
Tom: Yeh we definitely don't ever play the same set twice.

Friday night. Packed House. What are your substances?
Tom: Vodka Redbull with lime!
Marty: Vanilla vodka and apple, that shit is the bomb! Little Creatures Bright Ale is also a good one.
Tom: The deal is when DJing, only alcohol.

Well considering your meteoric rise so far, where do you see KABLAM in a year's time?
Tom: I dunno, our dream is to get booked at Thirds. (Third Class)
Marty: I got booked, then got canceled for Bongmist. (owner of Third Class)
Tom: Hahahaha oh yeh that was funny, well you can't argue with the man can you?
Marty: Nah wouldn't want to, Bongmist is the shit!

To what extent does the crowd govern what you play?
Tom: It depends when and where you play i guess. If we're playing for Streetparty then the crowd is a big factor, especially we can't get anything out of them. I usually just drop Trentemøller's remix of "What Else Is There?" by Röyksopp. That always saves the day haha.
Marty: Somewhere like the Croft Institute, you can play whatever you want, because the crowd isn't focused on you. You're there as part of the furniture. Sometimes i like that, but sometimes i just want to get the crowd going.
Tom: I like to get the crowd going.

So you touched on it a bit before Marty, but what are you guys listening to at the moment?
Marty: (points to roof. Groove Armada has just finished as Mylo's "In Your Arms" begins) Cosmic Disco. I'm all about cosmic disco at the moment. I'm getting a lot of my music from fox and his mixes. (The Fantastic Mr. Fox - reputed Melbourne fringe DJ). Just a lot of Lindstrøm, Aeroplane and Pryda. Plus a bit of old old house like Stonebridge.
Tom: I'm really into Tangoterje. His edits are just amazing, Jimpster as well...

So, before we go do you wanna say hi to your mum?
Marty: Can i actually say hi to Hugh Waters?
Tom: (laughing) Yeh apparently the new thing is not to mix...

Leaving confused but very satisfied, the bill came to $12 and i left the boys to their afternoon of record shopping as i trekked home with a full stomach. If you want to catch the boys in action, they play varying weekly sets across Melbourne clubs. Check their myspace: www.myspace.com/kablamlovesfruit or if you're interested in seeing them with the one and only Alan Braxe, go to the facebook event page: http://www.new.facebook.com/event.php?eid=21988339573

Until next time fellow groupies,
peace and love.

be careful what you wish for...

2008-04-27T19:31:00.000+10:00

After losing sleep due to unnatural amounts of excitement and nearly becoming a single man after screaming the words, "SPLENDOUR!!! SPLENDOUR!!!" in the throes of passion...

Splendour in the Grass's first line-up announcement finally arrived. And what an anti-climax it was.

It is a football team with no forward line and no defenders but with a fantastic mid-field. Frankly, it's a pretty shit team.

The headliners, who should in theory be kickin' goals, are woeful.
Devo - a forgotten and frankly weird band from the 80's are to have the honour of ending our Splendour experience. I have a few problems with this prospect.

Firstly, they cling to a fucking stupid 'devolution' gimmick like a fat girl to the hot chick at a club. Secondly, it is in my opinion that any band that is responsible for the atrocious lyrics, "you must whip it, whip it good" does not deserve to step foot on the luscious fields of Belongil, let alone occupy the position previously held by the greatness of Sonic Youth, Arctic Monkeys, Brian Wilson, Queens of the Stone Age and DJ Shadow.

Then there's Wolfmother. Where to start...
Not only did these guys piss me off by re-recording all four of the tracks from their self-titled EP for their album (lazy fucks) but then they proceeded to tour that album for what!?! Two years?!! Releasing how many fucking singles to be ruined on Nova!??!

Fuck guys, that's a sure-fire way to get everyone to hate your music and let us all know you're in it for the money...Now in 2008, with no new material available, they headline arguably the best international festival in Oz - Fuck That! And fuck their Grammy! No one respects the Grammys since Norah Jones took home like 20 one year anyway...

Not only were Wolfmother playing the exact same songs at Splendour in the Grass 2006 - but they were 6th or 7th on the bill. What has happened to their music since to justify the jump to being a headliner? Does a stupid golden gramophone sitting on your mantlepiece make your songs better or something?

I don't understand Splendour's logic. Even if Wolfmother gave us a preview of songs from their upcoming release, who wants a headliner set to be filled with songs you don't know? How awkward.

I'm sad to say though that this is far from being the only problem. Our defenders, both in the sense of defending the might of Aussie music, and being the backbone to any festival is also failing. The repetitive recycling of Australian Music at Splendour in the Grass is becoming boring and just plain annoying.

Along with Wolfmother; The Vines, Van She and The Grates are all 2006 veterans with no new material to play. And even worse are offenders Operator Please and The Panics who were there last year for fuck sake!

Conversely, I applaud The Presets for being at Splendour in the Grass 08 (despite being 2006 veterans aswell) because unlike the above said bands, they have a new album to showcase, and their set will be the pinnacle of their homecoming tour. Organisers should have applied this formula to the other Australian music choices. Here are just a few other options that were up for the taking...

Angus & Julia Stone - These 2006 veterans released a beautiful and under rated album last year called A Book Like This.
Little Red - Winners of the 'Garage2V competition' with their unique 1960's Happy Days-esque music.
British India - The Australian indie-rock success of 2007. Why? Why? Why are they not on the bill?
Lior - Fresh with a new album and a growing fan-base, Lior's voice would just make the women melt at the theatre stage.

So in the key positions of attack and defense, the Splendour tacticians really dropped the ball. But Thank God we at least have a fucking awesome mid-field. My predictions of Fratellis, Vampire Weekend, Pnau and Band of Horses should at least provide some respite along with the likes of Cold War Kids, MSTRKRFT and The Wombats. But overall the team at this stage is struggling, at the result of some bad band selections.

Ben Lee - If he doesn't get fruit and other objects thrown at him during his performance, I'll eat my own hat.

Scribe - Who cares about this guy anymore? Do rap aficionados even listen to him?

The Music - I seriously did NOT know these guys still existed. When was the last time they did anything?

The Living End - As much as i can understand Splendour's idea of putting these guys on, they have very little old-school value because they never appealed to the masses, but rather only the pop/punk enthusiasts...and even most of those guys have moved on by now...

Sigur Ros - Despite being an amazingly talented band, is just unsuited for Splendour's outdoors environment. If I was to see Sigur Ros perform live, (which would be blissful) i would want to be seated in a beautiful theatre with booming acoustics and I'd want the crowd to be fucking SILENT.

The subtle nature and texture of their music would just be ruined if there was some English tout screaming "VICTORIA BITTER!" at the top of his voice to reach his mate at the bar. Again, i can see what the Splendour organisers were trying to do, but alas it was another miss.

Disappointed is an understatement. I was devastated by this year's lineup, i keep a slim hope in my mind that they're saving their big guns for the second release, which should be sometime in June. By that time though, i will have already invested several hundred dollars, so it looks like this year is gonna be one helluva gamble.

I can recommend two possible ways for Splendour in the Grass to make up for this indiscretion:

1. Convince Lauryn Hill to come out of exile and play The Miseducation of... start to finish.

OR

2. Resurrect Kurt Cobain from the dead.

Anyone wanting more info on the fest regarding lineup or tickets or whatevs should hit up the website: www.splendourinthegrass.com

Dear Santa, i have been a good boy so please...

2008-04-13T18:20:00.001+10:00

This is my Splendour in the Grass 2008 wishlist:

Radiohead - After crying in the shower after Thom Yorke canceled their second Melbourne show on the Hail to the Thief tour mere hours they were due on stage, its time for some reparations. And with their 2008 release In Rainbows circling the top of my 2007 album list, i would be more than happy to have them as my Sunday night headliner.

The Verve - Pretty much the most unexpected and awesome reformation last year apart from Rage Against the Machine. These guys have wowed their European audiences with all the classics plus new material which has been given the universal thumbs up. Urban Hymns played start-to-finish anyone? I think these guys could end my Saturday night in Byron quite nicely.

The Prodigy - Fat of the Land is the bible for ravers and is accessible enough for Cut/Copy fans to enjoy. This makes them one of the coolest and craziest dance/electronica/techno bands to have ever existed. If you've never driven your dad's convertible at 140 km/h on Dandenong Road listening to Voodoo People at a deafening volume, either you haven't lived, or you're not a fucking psychopath.

The Kooks - If they don't tour by the end of 2008 there will be assassinations. With a new record Konk which is (seriously believe me) better than Inside In, Inside Out (i know, fucking awesome!!!) i want the guys who make acoustic guitars cool to finally recognise that Australia is a continent that might actually be worth touring.

Bright Eyes - Patience is wearing thin with you too Conor....

Moby - This guy does what he wants, never conforming to what his audience wants or expects from him, something pretty rare in music these days. His new album Last Night is amazing, a concept album about an all-night bender. If you don't think that's cool, go back to playing World of Warcraft on your lonely Saturday night.

Franz Ferdinand - With word coming through Marvin Gaye's grapevine that the new album is a return to 'pure pop' - then it's time to get excited. Renowned for a killer live set and best friends with our boys the Cutters, we want some Scottish love from the boys that make historical figures insignificant in the face of rock'n'roll.

Fratellis - Same goes for you fuckers in terms of touring. I mean how long do we have to fucking wait to hear the scream-your-lungs-out Chelsea Dagger live? Using fatigue as an excuse to cancel your tour is weak enough in the first place but how long does that shit last anyway? Get back on the horse you pansies.

Vampire Weekend - They're a British rock band and they sound like they're from Africa. Do i need say more?

Lupe Fiasco - I've heard this guy called "rap for Coldplay fans" which despite being hilarious, i think has an element of truth to it - this guy knows how to write a melody let alone a lyric. The most under-rated rapper on the scene, this guy is the heir to Kanye's throne following his shockingly titled yet utterly brilliant 2007 release The Cool...(cringe)

Diplo - Pretty much the Jedi master of genre hopping. This guy can mash Black Sabbath with sebastiAn and sample Michael Jackson over the top, while drinking some absinthe at the same time. He's just that fucking good. He's the reason M.I.A and Bonde Do Role aren't on the dole and is the famed creator of remixes for Kanye West, Hot Chip, Justice and Bloc Party.

The Last Shadow Puppets - Well if we can't have Arctic Monkeys two years in the row, can we at least have Alex's side-project? Genius comes in many forms and under many different names you know...

The Presets - yeh yeh i know we've all seen 'em a bunch of times, but listen! They're awesome live and their new album is rock solid motherfucking GOLD!

Ben Folds - We all thought the orchestra thing was cool Ben. But how about this...get a guitarist, a bassist and a drummer and rock the tent to its foundations. Who could possibly hate this guy when he busts out One Angry Dwarf and 200 Solemn Faces?

Pnau - Well I'm humble enough to admit it took me awhile to actually know how to pronounce the name of this band...same happened to me and Gotye come to think of it. Anyway these guys are too fun and happy to leave off the Splendour list. Get out the glowsticks, take whatever substance takes your fancy and dance like you can't feel your legs. N.B - coming from what friends of mine have said, if that substance happens to be Special K, you may not actually be able to feel your legs...

Kasabian - Like Lupe Fiasco, the last time they toured, the Big Day Out did not give these hooligans the honour they deserved insulting them with some shitty midday set. Let's bring on L.S.F and Shoot the Runner - get the ole mosh pit going yeh?

Adele - Coz her voice reminds me of Ella Fitzgerald. Those Amy Winehouse comparisons are way off, if anything she's more like Norah Jones, but with a bit more life in her body...which wouldn't be hard. Her album is gorgeous and having a fat bird there might be good publicity for the festival. Ouch.

Band of Horses - Their album Cease to Begin grew on me, took awhile but it eventually did. Now i'm obsessed and want to see The Funeral and Ode to LRC live. Do i need another reason? No.

PJ Harvey - I missed her Uh Huh Her tour and was close to suicide because of it, and although i wasn't the biggest fan of White Chalk...if i hear any song off Stories From the City, Stories From the Sea live, i think i'd orgasm. literally.

Death Cab For Cutie - New Record = new direction. And we like new direction by the sounds of the 8.5 minute single I Will Possess Your Heart. Although they were at Splendour '06, they played a stupid 3.30pm set which sucked and there were all these OC teeny boppers which just made me want to hurt people. Bring them back and give the indie-kings the respect they deserve.

Belle & Sebastian - Granted, they are wankers. Apart from that though, this band is so god damn talented it would be a shame if we didn't bring the 'wank factor' up a notch this year. It would be worth it. Don't believe me? Download The Boy With The Arab Strap and then come chat to me.

Cajun Dance Party - My newcomer of the year, the London boys should make their first visit down under a good one. Check out the myspace, its hard not to fall in love with Amylase.

Rilo Kiley - Jenny Lewis is so gorgeous, i want her in Byron just so i can find out where she's staying and propose to her. Another reason to have them there could be that this band is one of the coolest indie bands on the planet. And while their new slick direction with Under the Blacklight wasn't exactly my cup of tea - Jenny could make up for it I'm sure.

So am i asking for too much?

The Smashing Pumpkins - Festival Hall

2008-04-12T21:36:00.000+10:00

Okay well before i talk about the gig let's get some things out of the way so we all realise the gravity of the situation...

The Smashing Pumpkins were without a doubt, one of the greatest and most influential bands of the 1990's. And when i say "one of" i mean like...top 5. Releasing their debut album Gish in the same year as the epic Ten and the era-defining Nevermind, these guys were the late bloomers of the bunch. But boy did they bloom, their second album Siamese Dream is still regarded as the seminal alternative rock album of the 1990's, and their epic, genre defying 28 song magnum opus, Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness brought them the highest selling double album of the decade.

Not bad ey? But as all the great bands do, they fell from grace after a drug scandal forced drummer Jimmy Chamberlain to quit the band and enter rehab. In his absence The Smashing Pumpkins recorded a down-beat introspective record called Adore, which was slammed upon release and lost them half their fan-base. Only recently in retrospective articles have critics back-stepped, regarding it now as a masterpiece with fans finally accepting its avant-garde beauty...Kid A anyone...?

In 2000, they released a piece of shit covered in wankery, named Machina/The Machines of God, but to tell you the truth none of us were surprised. If you were a true Smashing Pumpkins fan, you always knew Billy had it in him, that wank was just dying to come out. Unfortunately it killed them and they broke up shortly afterwards.

Fast-Forward to last year. Reformation at Last! And an announcement in November that they would headline the 2008 V Festival. After all my praying and (i'm not joking) dreaming of seeing them live back in high-school, the Pumpkins were back! Granted, it was without James Iha and D'Arcy Wretzky, but it was rumoured they were so drug-fucked Billy had to play all their parts on Siamese Dream anyway. So that was no loss in my mind. As long as Jimmy and Saint Corgan were there, seeing them would be a box on my 'life to-do list' ticked.

Firstly. Shit venue. Festival Hall? For all the ethereal beauty and ornate melodies that encompass Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness, why perform them in a soul-less, dank tin shed? Secondly, if you're not going to have a supporting band and plan on beginning your show at 7.45 on the dot, it would be wise to have that info on the ticket so at least half the crowd can arrive in time for the opening song. I was lucky enough to find out about the dinner-time start on the blogs but judging by the empty stands when the Pumpkins graced the stage, many others missed out on what was a spectacular opening, the sprawling 9.5 minute, Porcelina of the Vast Oceans.

Now, you would think any well-meaning band would play a 'greatest hits' set list after being on hiatus for the last eight years and not having toured the country in fourteen, but the Pumpkins had never liked to conform to people's expectations. Taking four songs to reach a crowd favourite, we finally smiled and sung with all the air we could muster for the beautifully string-laden, Tonight, Tonight.

This circumstance would epitomise the concert. When the band gave the crowd what they wanted, Festival Hall was transformed into a gathering of love, nostalgia and admiration not unlike the hippie communes of the 1960's. But more often than not, the egos of the Pumpkins just wouldn't give that to us.

It may seem controlling and obnoxious of me to want a band to only play crowd favourites, but when you have the ability (which not many bands do) to have an entire set of hits and anthems (which they haven't played in 8 years)...why play unknown or obscure trash? Superchrist an 8 minute unreleased heavy metal affair was interesting, but it was hard to see past the potential for that 8 minutes to be filled with something a little bit more crowd satisfying.

And alas, such early disappointment was only a hint of what was to come. Bad song choices such as Lily (my one and only), easily the worst song off their otherwise brilliant Mellon Collie album, when chosen over so many other classics led this reviewer to feel that the band was specifically trying to piss off fans. A feeling that was cemented after they ended their concert with a B-side to their 1996 single, Thirty Three called My Blue Heaven, a piece of broadway piano pomp. Perhaps choose the A-side over the B-side next time Billy...

That is not to say the entire concert was a crushing disappointment. A beautiful and heartfelt rendition of Mayonaise was both unexpected and touching in a way that literally had tears streaming down my face, and acoustic versions of 1979 and its sister song Perfect were nothing short of magnificent. Today received a similar overwhelming reception to Bullet With Butterfly Wings, both of which got a semi-decent mosh-pit going. The highlight of the concert though was Drown. Written for the soundtrack to Cameron Crowe's movie Singles in 1992 but also featuring on their greatest hits Rotten Apples, its melodic beauty using their trademark loud-soft dynamic was just gorgeous, truly mesmerising stuff...

But these points of emphatic glory only served to highlight the unnecessary large amounts of shit that surrounded them. Personally, it was hard to appreciate the moment knowing that it was most likely going to be followed by an obscure, nothing song or piece of guitar wank. I'm certain that the Pumpkins wanted to do whatever the fuck they wanted that night and merely gave the crowd some scraps to chew on. As soon Billy felt that he'd given us the mandatory 5 hits, that was it, time for the inevitable trip to to BillyWorld....the land of songs only he knows, filled with gross amounts of distortion and feedback.

And that's the awful thing about inevitability because after dumbfounding the audience by ending the concert on a song that sounded like it came from Guys and Dolls, the house lights went up and I found myself surrounded by a few thousand angry Pumpkins fans. Billy returned after about ten minutes (which seemed like an eternity), and quickly placated the crowd with The Everlasting Gaze, a single of mediocre brilliance. The crowd were rapturous though, by now, obviously the frame of mind was to enjoy anything that was the least bit familiar...

The next 30 minutes of the concert was a waste of my valuable time. After playing another B-side, this time one from their lowest selling album of the 1990's Adore, they segued into three teasing covers; Britney Spears's Piece of Me, Buffalo Springfield's For What It's Worth and AC/DC's Let There be Rock. After ten minutes of that unnecessary rabble, Billy had obviously noticed the yawns emitting from Festival Hall, giving us one last oldie, Crush, an album track off their debut Gish...hardly the monster hit, but still more satisfying than the previous four songs put together.

So just when we all thought he might end the concert with a few treats to have us all smiling and feeling warm on the way out....he went and pissed us off a little further. There was so much noise surrounding me at this point, a cover of the vocal-less Pink Floyd song Set the Controls for the Heart of the Sun was played without me knowing, and must've melted into their utterly deplorable song off last year's release Zeitgeist, the ten minute long United States.

Honestly, United States is the most boring and despicably repetitive piece of shit I've ever heard, and just for kicks, they like to drag it out to twenty minutes when they do it live. I would actually rather be at a Delta Goodrem concert than The Smashing Pumpkins while they play that song. It just never ends. The fact that i didn't even know they had played the Pink Floyd cover until i looked up the set list on the band's website is indicative of the length of unrecognizable guitar distortion and feedback we had to endure. And then. It was over.

No old-school track to finish on. No classic anthem to have everyone sing-a-long with. Nup. That's not the Pumpkins way. After over 30 minutes of mindless guitar trickery (which anyone with expensive effects pedals could do) they left the stage, never to return. And then came the boos...

And i don't blame them, the concert had the potential to be a reaffirmation of great 90's American Rock Music, but instead it was a conformation that Billy Corgan is one of the biggest tossbags in the music industry. A message to the giant himself: Come back to Australia if you ever take the time to squeeze that big, bald head of yours out from your rectum. And one last thing Billy, if you've made millions of dollars over the past decade by merchandising your iconic ZERO shirt, and thousands of people turn up to your shows wearing it, play the fucking song.

In Ghost Colours

2008-04-03T16:38:00.000+11:00

When a stripper is slowly revealing her body to a lonely businessman at Spearmint Rhino, something is usually happening inside the tailored pants of this lucky man. Surprisingly, the chemical reaction is quite similar for a good album. The longer the anticipation, the faster the guy will blow his load. Cut/Copy's sophomore release In Ghost Colours is testament to that, coz its been 4 fucking years of foreplay and personally i was about to explode.

So when the album finally landed on the fat platform of Number 1 in the Australian ARIA albums chart on March 30th; the sultry voice of Dame Shirley Bassey echoed in my ears, "that it's all just a little bit of history repeating."

Because Hey! It had worked before! Oasis... you know, that arrogant Britpop band full of wankers that still think they own the world... Well they released their debut album Definitely Maybe in 1994 after cock-teasing the Brits with three singles, including the anthemic Live Forever - so when their album finally dropped they were already the biggest band in the country and they had the fastest selling record in U.K history.

Obviously the boys at Modular were watching and taking notes because with Hearts on Fire being released in March '07, they've sure been giving us a lot of time to twiddle our thumbs, and other parts of our body for that matter...November came rollin' and scratchin' along with the harder and dirtier So Haunted single. And we all had another reason to hug our best mate and jump up and down like dickheads at 3am in some shitty nightclub after the release of the feeling gooder than good Lights and Music on March the 1st.

So the sneaky little bastards knew what they were doing all along, and fair fucks to them because when i arrived at the opening acoustic guitar chords of Feel the Love - i was doing just that. The rest is a cosmic dream. While their debut album Bright Like Neon Love was brilliant, it was although the band didn't know whether they were imitating Daft Punk or Air - stuck in that grey area between indie-electro-dance and lounge music.

But after 4 years of solid touring with the likes of The Presets, Sebastian, Kavinsky and the Robot Rockers themselves, Cut/Copy have learned how to make even emos dance if they have to. In Ghost Colours is essentially an electro record with all the perks and dynamics of a great rock album. Slowly building bridges that lead into crescendo choruses are plentiful and as catchy as malaria in Indonesia. The Cutters have definitely mastered the technique of the 'woo ohhs and ah ahhhs' as their staple backing vocals but it is with Dan Whitford's new-wave voice that the pop songs really come together.

Sounding like the lovechild of Depeche Mode and Roxy Music, Tom's voice is given more clarity and prominence on this album, a welcome change considering the obvious growth in their lyrical depth. Yes lyrics! not usually the strongest asset of electronic music (just shake what your momma gave you and flaunt it...) but this is where Cut/Copy show us what all the hype is about. The group's ability to strike a balance between intellectual wordplay and sing-along choruses make this an album that is brilliant from the first time you hear it but also has considerable longevity. I challenge anyone not to sing along to the infectious last minute and a half of Out There On The Ice and the chorus of Far Away - both destined to be crowd/radio/club favourites.

In Ghost Colours wears its heart on its sleeve (no pun made about fire, despite temptation) but this only adds to the album's overall pop beauty - a shameless attraction to its own dreamy and punchy hooks. The album is one big hunk of synthed up love and just might be one of the best electronic releases since Röyksopp's The Understanding.

A message to The Presets: the bar has been set.
A+

just a quick bitch session.

2008-03-28T20:31:00.000+11:00

As much as the show has lived up to all of the media hype, which im dearly thankful for...Underbelly's lack of attention to detail is really starting to fricking shit me!

In a show where the events are supposed to have taken place circa. 1995 - 2004 it really breaks my attention when the sub-standard Channel 9 producers can't do their job properly and keep the set in the time frame.

In episode 5 during a scene when there's some pretty serious beat-downs occurring on a poor shop-keep who couldn't afford the protection money i started to hear the song 'La Musique' in the background, the early 2006 release from Australian Electro-duo Riot In Belgium. Now as catchy as this song is, it was quite jarring in its effect of pulling my attention away from Jason Moran to thinking of a memory i have seeing the DJ's play in Byron Bay.

Perhaps the 1997 release 'Smack My Bitch Up' by The Prodigy would have been more appropriate considering the time of the release and of course the nature of the scene, because i can hardly see Jason Moran being a fan of One-Love. Actually I'm pretty sure the guy got jailed for going into a club and kicking the living shit out of 13 people.

Episode 6 opens with Adelaide's own Yeah Yeah Yeah's rip-off Little Birdy and their 2006 single 'Come on Come on'. Other episodes feature Spiderbait with their one listenable song, 'Buy Me a Pony' and later, their horridly annoying cover of 'Black Betty.'

Like seriously, if this show's primary demographic is the Australian population who are interested in Australian crime, chances are they are gonna know a thing or two about Australian music as well.

I appreciate the show's intention to give some Aussie music airplay but they could have at least done a bit of research and used music of that era to give the show added authenticity. Everyone knows that Spiderbait are just a shitter version of You Am I anyway.

Like fuck Channel 9. Is it that hard to do your job properly?

Sharon Jones & The Dap-Kings

2008-03-20T20:04:00.000+11:00

For those people still mourning the tragic loss of James Brown, heed and rejoice! The Godfather of Soul has been re-incarnated into the form of a 4ft-something African-American by the name of Sharon Jones. And my word is she sexy.

Touring around the Meredith Golden Plains Festival, the 52 year old mistress from Georgia played an astounding 6 side-shows on top of her festival commitments, an effort only highlighting the laziness of every other fucker in the business. On the 11th of March I ventured to the elegant Gershwin Room, upstairs at the otherwise dingy, crack-whore infested Esplanade Hotel, a place i actually love dearly.

Playing a late show at 12.30am - the crowd were at first greeted on stage by the über cool Dap-Kings, pretty much the most influential soul band in the world at the moment. They looked as if they'd just stepped out of the Delorean coming straight from some 1930's smoky jazz house in the middle of down-town New York.

Lead guitarist and MC Binky Griptite was the first to speak, coming out the shadows during the Dap-Kings opening jam session to introduce himself and the band, each soloing as they stepped forward to their name. Three trumpets, two saxophones, one drummer, one percussionist, a bass player, another guitarist other than Binky plus three saucy backing vocalists - it's pretty much the funk and soul equivalent to the Harlem Globetrotters. And after quite a few minutes of stirring the crowd and making us scream until i felt faint in the head for our leading lady, Sharon was introduced. Well. I don't think my ears will ever recover from that moment.

This woman had a lot to live up to, three albums down, the now defunct funk magazine Big Daddy proclaimed that their first release, 2002's Dap Dippin' with Sharon Jones and the Dap-Kings "might be the best new funk album ever" and that, "this LP is a major triumph and a new standard has been set". But if there was ever any pressure to live up to, it wasn't even the opening song, it was the opening chords that blew them away.

Touring off their 2006 release 100 Days, 100 Nights, Sharon literally did not stop moving for the 1.5 hour set - which was an impressive length in itself considering the time - but it's clear that either she is powered by Energiser batteries or the lady just loves to get her funk on. Along with her Studio 54-esque dancing, and i mean the actual club in Manhattan not the shitty 1998 movie with Neve Campbell - Ms Jones's voice is just jaw dropping.

Some readers might think comparisons to James Brown are over-drawn at first but anyone who has seen this cheeky bird will testify - she is the shit. For some crowd members, spines tingled, for this reviewer, personally i felt it deep in my rib cage, like it was food for my soul. The music did not stop, The Dap-Kings are that musically in-tune with each other that gaps between songs were filled with beautiful improvisational jazz, each letting the other have their moment to show us their world-renowned talent. I guess it's a luxury one gains from touring constantly since their conception in '02.

Their set list was balanced nicely with numbers taken from all three albums, naturally (no pun intended) and the crowd cheered for songs off her latest album proving the critics aren't the only ones who think it's gold. The lady's passion for her music is undeniable, her voice soaring as her body jiggled back and forth to the rhythm, and the dance-floor was doing much the same with no hip in the room remaining stationary. There seemed to be an unspoken understanding amongst the crowd, a feeling that we were all here for the same thing and over the sound of hundreds of toes tappin' the floor one could even make out a sing-a-long during favourites, 'Nobody's Baby','Tell Me' and 'What Have You Done For Me Lately?'

Giving a timeless and simply unforgettable performance, i left the Espy drunk from the sound of Sharon's voice and the ensuing dance-fest. I was smiling uncontrollably and my feet were hurting badly, it was a bit past 2am on a Wednesday morning and satisfied was an understatement to say the least. For the past 1.5 hours the Espy had been transformed from a hold-your-breath cesspool to a classic discothéque and it would never be the same again.

The only thing i can further say is, Mark Ronson, i finally understand and share your obsession. The Dap-Kings are exactly that. Kings.
Party on Wayne. Party on Garth.

Sunday Kicks @ The Espy Front Bar 5/3/08

2008-03-07T13:05:00.000+11:00

Did you ever hear what happened to the guy that screamed out 'get a fucking bassist' to The White Stripes after they released White Blood Cells? He now sits on his arse in his shitty Detroit apartment and gets a humble pie delivered every day for the rest of his life as that album went on to become one of the greatest garage rock albums of all time and Jack White one of the most influential guitarists of the last 50 odd years. The reason i say this is because we all have to learn from the mistakes of the past and when Nick Murphy sits behind the keyboard with Fraser Walker on guitar and Will Jones behind the kit (without a bassist!?!!) you gotta listen to George Michael and have a little faith.

With only a handful of live shows under their belt this Melbourne 3-piece has already developed a surprisingly large cult following on the back of their recent hyped, energetic performances. Put simply, these guys know how to fucking party and want you to do just that. So in their first appearance at the infamous Espy hotel the boys barreled through 6 tracks, opening with the viciously funny Melbourne City, a song chronicling the observations of an alcohol soaked city on a Saturday night.

This is the place that i think the band belongs, their music; dark yet melodic seems to be a perfect soundtrack to a long, drunken walk home from a night on the town. Mr Walker, obviously a disciple of Master Frusciante has already mastered the art of atmospheric harmony creating an epic and spine-tingling cacophony, as he layered multiple guitar tracks over one another on their closing instrumental Daisy Loop.

It may seem like a simple and inane thing to comment on, but watching the Kicks play, you can tell they're digging what they do, there seems to be a comradery between the boys, and its obvious they are in tune musically. I think that's fucking cool, and it allows the band to impress individually as well as collectively. Nick's lyrical skill is very accomplished for his age, balancing wit with sensitivity and using his vocal acrobatics to soar over Fraser's melodies, but thankfully never over-doing it into wankery. Will's drumming is jaw-droppingly impressive with some of the coolest (and fastest) fills and rolls this reviewer has heard in quite awhile. All give one another time to shine and it is so refreshing to see a band with healthy egos that aren't in competition with each other on stage.

Obviously in awe of the packed room in front of them, Nick graciously thanked everyone for the turn out before launching into the newly written Clockwork Hearts which he describes as his token 'emo' song. Followed by crowd favourite Robot Symphony the crowd got their boogy on and the inevitable sing-along begun. And fuck it was worth it, do you ever feel as if you've ripped someone off? When they've given you something for a small amount of money and yet it doesnt feel right in the pit of your stomach? Well considering the cover charge for the night was a clumsy $5 i think i owe these guys about another $30. But we'll sort out the cash later, the gig left me bewildered and i was glad i'd kept my expectations at a reasonable point for them to blow them away in a short 30 minutes. I am certain that if these guys don't make it then the so-called Melbourne music scene has its head so far up its own arse it'll start to think the Rogue Traders actually create music.

Calling Sony record executives.....
get these guys a fucking deal already.

http://www.myspace.com/fucksundaykicks

The Best Albums of '07 - A highly subjective list

2008-03-03T20:58:00.000+11:00

25. Justice - †
The most innovative electronic act to come out of France since Daft Punk and the hottest act right now on Paris's scorching label Ed Banger Records.

essential track: Phantom Pt. II

24. The Rakes - Ten New Messages

London boys come good on follow up to 2005's Capture/Release with a tight, polished indie-rock set that squeezes in all the hooks it can with dark, ironic humour a-plenty.

essential track: We Danced Together

23. Sharon Jones & The Dap-Kings - 100 Days, 100 Nights
The lady who was once told that she didn't have "the right image" for funk and soul now IS the image for the best booty wiggling, love making music goin' round.
essential track: Tell Me

22. Modest Mouse - We Were Dead Before The Ship Even Sank
Turning every indie boy's wet-dream into a beautiful reality, the Mouse added guitar legend and ex-Smiths member Johnny Marr to their line-up bringing new-found edge and energy to their unique, kooky, pop goodness.
essential track: Dashboard

21. Tegan And Sara - The Con
With producer Chris Walla (Death Cab For Cutie) T&S skipped up a few steps on the indie ladder with their 2007 offering adding gorgeous melody to their dark, emotive lyrics. Emo rock how it should have been: sincere and intelligent.
essential track: Floorplan

20. Kaiser Chiefs - Yours Truly, Angry Mob
The boys from Leeds followed up their brilliant debut Employment in typical tongue-bursting-through-cheek form, delivering a set full of sing-along songs for every man in a pub punching their fists in the air.
essential track: Ruby

19. Kings of Leon - Because of the Times
The only band since Lynyrd Skynyrd that pull off 'the hillbilly look' and still make it look sexy continue on their way to becoming one of the biggest bands of this generation winning over more fans to their cult with this polished third album.
essential track: On Call

18. The Shins - Wincing the Night Away
Princes of the alternative world, 'the garden state band' at their intriguing best with melodies that are sweeter than the first cherries of summer. This star just keeps getting higher...
essential track: Sea Legs

17. Interpol - Our Love to Admire
Fuck The Editors, the war has been won. Interpol returned with their most accessible LP to date tip-toeing the fine line between hook-filled pop and dark, sombre introspection. Breaking new ground with space and atmospheric beauty, all snide remarks gone with people starting to wonder if Interpol should still be compared to Joy Division, or maybe it should be the other way around?
essential track: No I in Threesome

16. Midnight Juggernauts - Dystopia
With more hype than Leonardo DiCaprio, was this album ever going to live up to the expectations of the electro-kids in the alley-way nightclubs? Now a corner-stone of Modular Records - the Juggers finally released their debut album and you know what? it was okay. But maybe not the ground-breaking Endtroducing-esque masterpiece we were all told to expect.
essential track: Into the Galaxy

15. Okkervil River - The Stage Names
Outta Left-Field? Hell Yeh! Shockingly Good? You know it. Okkervil surprising listeners with one of the most kick-ass horn sections in any pop band and everyone knows the air trumpet is way cooler than the air guitar.
essential track: A Girl in Port

14. Bright Eyes - Cassadaga
"the next Bob Dylan?" Okay everyone let's not go too far with the hyperbole, but i think we can all agree our Conor is damn talented. After I'm Wide Awake... and Digital Ash he could have gone one of two ways, and thank Christ he went this way. A sweeping, poetic piece of literature, Mr. Oberst's lyrics however dense they may be, are rapturous and socially aware.
essential track: Four Winds

13. Digitalism - Idealism
It seems Daft Punk-ism is a class also taught in Germany. Fun, happy dance music for the glow-stick inclined, it is hard to resist the catchy (repetitive) one-liners and clap-your-hands beats that make up the debut LP from these boys. With this release, Click Click Nightclub had their 2007 soundtrack.
essential track: Pogo

12. Black Rebel Motorcycle Club - Baby 81
Bluesy, Gritty, Leather-Jacket wearin' rockers return with their fourth album, and randomly enough, it's their best. Not many bands hit a career high on numero 4 but this cd makes you feel as if you were on a lonely highway, top down, doing 120 km/h with a cigarette hangin' outta your mouth. Fuck Yeh.
essential track: Weapon of Choice

11. Feist - The Reminder
The glory-girl of 2007, Ms. Leslie Feist, a member of the Broken Social Scene released the sleeper hit of last year to only mild critical praise. Four syllables changed this: one two three four. Apple picking up on her sultry voice, hip-shaking talents and annoyingly catchy lyrics for an iPod ad and the rest is commercial pop history...
essential track: My Moon My Man

10. Bloc Party - A Weekend In The City
Darker and harder with hints of electro - Kele and the crew survive the pressure of the second album, brilliantly creating their disenchanted ode to London. From the conformity of youth (Uniform) to the growing race segregation of London (Hunting For Witches) Kele unleashes his obvious anger with the power of the band's angular guitars. Yet it is with his softer more delicate moments he kills us, balance has never sounded so conflicted as Kele proves that he's not afraid to show us his wounds.
essential track: I Still Remember

9. Kanye West - Graduation
It is only with an album like this that Kanye gets away with being such a blatant tosser. Proving himself with Late Registration and continuing to enlarge his own head for the following three years, Mr. West returned with proof he was the best Hip-Hop producer in the world. Sampling everyone from Daft Punk to Elton John to Michael Jackson, he showed considerable improvement as a lyricist and silenced his critics, finally earning the praise that he repeatedly gives himself.
essential track: Homecoming (ft Chris Martin)

8. Silverchair - Young Modern
The boys are back in town...after an extended hiatus and cringe-worthy side-project from Daniel Johns, the original trio from Newcastle got back together and went Talking Heads on our unexpecting asses. Never one to dwell on the same sound, Johns used his ego to his advantage pushing the boundaries of what is considered a pop song and hits all the right notes.
essential track: Mind Reader

7. Memories & Dust - Josh Pyke
Don't you just love it when artists take their time to release an album after a good EP and come out with something incredibly mind-blowing? Boom! Josh Pyke has landed, after his 2005 mini-album Feeding the Wolves, the man who makes Australian folk cool arrives with a contagious, intelligent and down-right heart-warming debut. Not since Damien Rice's O has a folk-pop debut sounded so mature and accomplished.
essential track: Memories & Dust

6. LCD Soundsystem - Sounds of Silver
James Murphy should be given a genre of his own, possibly called 'intelligent electronic music'. After his scattered self-titled debut, the man's first real long player is close to being a masterpiece, chronicling the realisations of a man who is becoming weary of the scene. Destroying the pretensions of dance music and taking its repetitiveness with it, Mr. New York offers a beautifully honest and uplifting album with the most original beats since Mylo.
essential track - New York, I love you but you're bringing me down

5. Klaxons - Myths of the Near Future
Like nothing you have ever heard before in your life. 3-part harmonies, you're thinking Bee Gees. Wrong. Air-raid sirens, you're thinking Zombie Nation. Wrong. This is indie-electro tastiness that makes even Mormons wanna dance and scream like they got a pair. Mercury prize winners and psycho live performers - watch out for these guys if they don't disappear back to Mars or wherever the fuck they came from.
essential track: Atlantis to Interzone

4. Mark Ronson - Versions
If you don't know Mark Ronson, simply take out the inside cover sleeve of your Lily Allen or Amy Winehouse or Adele album. The best commercial funk producer in the bizz debuts with his name on the front cover with a selection of re-workings and covers. Odd, personal and interesting selections the likes of Radiohead, Coldplay, The Smiths and Britney Spears all get deconstructed and reimagined as swing/soul and funk numbers to varying brilliance. But one thing is constant, this guy knows his shit and when he nails something, it's not a cover but a creation of his own.
essential listen - Stop Me (if you've heard this one before)

3. Arcade Fire - Neon Bible
These Canadian orchestral wonders owned 2004. Funeral was a pop masterpiece for the 21st century and not one critic dared to say otherwise, and if they did, they had no taste. 2007 saw the release of their second coming, an apocalyptic warning of sorts with Win Butler, our prophet preaching the dangers of fundamentalist religion and political terror. The complexities of their music add to their intrigue and vibrancy with French horns, mandolins, piano organs and accordions lacing their gospel style anthems. Some were disappointed that it didn't match Funeral yet this reviewer would have been angry with a part two, consider Neon Bible as a god send.
essential track: Keep the Car Running

2. Radiohead - In Rainbows
Pressure? Pfft! These guys have it on toast for breakfast. The most hyped band since Nirvana made headlines for their business acumen yet the fact they undermined the music industry did not take away from their most perfect work since 97's OK Computer. Walking the tightrope between their indie-rock origins and their electronic fancy, In Rainbows succeeds in its accessibility (not something Radiohead are famous for) and its lyrical depth. Thom Yorke at his cryptic best delivers beautifully delicate vocals over tight harmonic guitar lines. The Brit-Pop Kings still hold the throne.
essential track: Jigsaw Falling Into Place

(drum roll)

1. Arctic Monkeys - Favourite Worst Nightmare
A service announcement to all music lovers: Alex Turner is a genius. Child prodigy, whatever label you want to give the kid, he sure does give you something to get excited about. Barely a year since they broke every record in the book and had everyone asking 'who the fuck are the Arctic Monkeys?' with their debut album Whatever People Say I Am, Thats's What I'm Not - the boys return with a louder, faster, harder album that tells the world one thing, it was no fluke. Angrier and more polished, the Monkeys brought on Simian Mobile Disco to produce, losing the garage twang and coming out with 12 brutally cool songs about the things that happen when you're Britain's hottest band. With a tongue as sharp as Dylan's and a sound Oasis wish they still had, there wouldn't be a single musical soul in Greater Britain right now that wouldn't say these guys are the heirs to Radiohead's throne. Indie-Rock defined in 2007.
essential track: 505