What do Trent Reznor and David Cameron have in common? Well other than their outstanding sense of self importance, both suffered limited success at online social networking (webcameron peaked far too early) and both seem to hold a particular grudge against the twitter population.
Reznor seems to have a greater cause for grief, according to a post on the Nine Inch Nails forum "Around the time news broke of my engagement, a faction of troublemakers showed up whose sole intent was to disrupt, harass, insult and incite." Such an unecessary level of abuse has now caused him to leave the website, "You trolling, cowardly pigs-- you've succeeded."
The same can't really be said for Cameron who this monday on the Christain O'Connell expressed the impressively frank remark, "too many twits make a twat". Whatever its political motivations, the comment does raise the question of whether celebrities only serve to embarass themselves through their twiter posts.
After a brief search here are 3 examples of your typical offenders:
1) Carl Barat (the bore):
Had a bit of a lie-in this morning, but still shattered *yawn*4:28 AM Jul 24th from web
I don't know whether Carl purposely saves the most tedious moments of his day for twitter but I don't really need to know about his sleeping habits
2) Jon McClure (the activist):
failed musicians should be barred from becoming music critics! also why cant people describe records without reference to other ones ?6:19 AM Jul 25th from web
Even if you extend this caveat to every journalist who voted Conservative at the last election, one suspects the majority of reviews for A French Kiss In The Choas would still be dire.
3) James Endeacott (the misunderstood ruffian):
99 problems on the helter skelter as I travel up the river under the bridges of life.....save meabout 20 hours ago from TwitterBerry
The worst kind of offender, trying to put accross a faux artistic spirit in 140 characters but instead producing the same meaningless drivel as Carl
Yesterday was a historic moment if not for music, then at least for the career of Lethal Bizzle. With a new album to promote and a full awareness that a bad NME review could spell the end of his short career, not only did he hand deliver the record to the office but he also sat there whilst it played at full volume bopping along furiously to his own genius. I wasn't there, I can only hope that some bolshy staff writer told him it was shit to his face but such a desperate ploy did get me thinking of the best ways to ensure a good review.
1) Interviews - Getting to meet the person you could potentially ruin gives the reviewer a sense of responsibility for the artist no matter what the content of their music, like a famer paying special care to the runt of the litter. If the artist is a cock though you can shear off at least 2 points from the final review, incidentally Tommy Sparks' self titled receices a Rob rating that careers into negative figures.
2) Packaging - Not exactly a way to an ensure a good review but certainly a review. Over the course of my work experience tenure I've seen many daft ploys: a wax sealed envelope, the DIY album art work (so bad it's good) but the winner by a country mile has to be the Get Sexy promo for the Sugababes. As if packaging the CD like a condom wasn't good enough it's "watermarked for extra protection".
3) Free Stuff - Usually you can tell whether there is going to anything of value inside a promo envelope as all the labels worth mentioning put their logo next to the address. Unfortunately such parcels of joy account for roughly 25% of all promos sent in but out of common courtesy you have to open every one. Even if you will never listen to the radio edit of Bananarama's Love Comes. Imagine then, if you can, my delight at opening a package stuffed with one CD and lots of Haribo, Maoam at that. Unfortunately the promo was tossed aside in the rush for free sweeties.
4) Press Release - If you get round to reading the press release on a promo that means you're probably going to have to go ahead and review it. At least you the writer can give your honest opinion about the record though. Think of the poor press officer who described Killa Kela as "arguably the best beat boxer on the planet", he/she probably had to spend a fair amount of time listening to his record to come up with this faintest of silver linings. Even worse for said PR man/lady such facesaving PR bull is painfully obvious and a review will not be forthcoming.
5) The Music - Having spent a fair time on magazine rotation you eventually reach the conclusion that there is a lot of good music around but there is a lot more bad music to compensate. It's always a priviledge to hear something new and great but such tracks can sometimes get lost in admist an endless stream of crap. To end on a positive note here is my needle in the haystake for today:
Ok so these reviews are slightly behind with the times but hey, I left my iPod in Leamington and playing any album through my in-laptop speakers will always result in a cross between the sound of a meat grinder and Slayer’s Reign In Blood.
Anyway the points for comparison between the two acts are more obvious than one would have first thought. Both operate with the subtlety of sledge-hammer, both feature an impressive vocal range and both hold an ambition to reach beyond the niche pages of mixmag and the NME. But enormous quiffs and Kate Bush impressions aside, the question of whether there’s any substance to these two young acts remains largely unanswered by the debut albums from both parties.
Kicking off with the bigger seller, Lungs is befitting of the attention span of its author flitting intermittently between the garage-rock of Kiss With A Fist, the stomp pop of Girl With One Eye and string drenched Dog Days Are Over. Though offering an eclectic mix, such an approach doesn’t lend to a coherent record. Indeed for an artist with such an effervescent personality pursuing so many musical directions leaves Miss Welch at risk of losing her identity within the musical quagmire.
The primary anchor within this diversity is Florence’s admittedly impressive set of pipes and boy does she know it. Restraint is rarely exercised when the opportunity for an all out warble fest arises. On Rabbit Heart’s no holds barred chorus “this is a gift it comes at a price” it works a treat, however, excessive use of the talent diminishes its effect. Blinding in fact represents one of the LPs finer points for its deft use of wilting vocals wrapped in a slew of gently plucked strings. Ultimately, the choice of You’ve Got The Love to bookend the album acts as a neat summary of its contents, unique enough to make you sit up and take notice but lacking the refinement to hold attention once the novelty factor has worn off.
La Roux’s album is a different, altogether more formulaic beast. The challenge for Elly Jackson and Ben Langmaid was always going to be how to produce a record so heavily indebted to a pre-definied era without it sounding dated from the moment of release. Their answer it arises, is to stick rigidly to the cold brew of shrill synth and falsetto vocals that has already lead to the chart topping success of Bulletproof and In For The Kill. However well this modus operandi transposes to the dance floor though, on an emotional level it doesn’t really rise above ‘boys are stupid throw rocks at them’ level emotions.
Given the fragile nature of both the music and lyrical subject matter one wouldn’t have thought this would have been a stumbling block “It’s all false love and attention / you don’t want me you just like the attention”. Yet on Cover My Eyes and Amour Love, a paper thin backdrop jars when Elly Jackson tries to bring in more complex feelings for discussion. This deficit doesn’t make La Roux’s debut a bad album, the When Doves Cry sampling Quicksand and coarse chimes of Tigerlily ensure that. In terms of a some what obligatory 80s influenced records / TV police drama comparison however, it represents the The Bill to Ladyhawke’s The Wire.
Florence + The Machine – Lungs 7/10 La Roux – La Roux 6/10
I'm not really a massive subscriber to the Popjustice worldview where pop is afforded the same status as high art in a desperate bid for subversiveness. However, these two videos at least showcase the genre in it's best (if still highly vacous) light.
On a side note if Calvin Harris ever stops making music with the intellectual maturity of Bubbles the chimp, then he might actually write something really good.
If you haven’t been following Spotify’s journey this year and to be fair it’s moved at something resembling lightning pace, they may well have entered your radar yesterday.
This was the day Spotify sent over their much hyped app to iTunes with a view to releasing it over the next month. Crucially this app not only allows you to access Spotify’s streaming service when connected to the internet but also gives its user the freedom to store tracks and play lists for offline use.
Should Apple approve the app then anyone who joins Spotify’s subscription service can potentially access a near comprehensive music catalogue for the miniscule fee of £9.99 per month.
It’s groundbreaking stuff and could thankfully signal the end of the PR mainstay to ‘change the way we listen to music’ with artists getting paid for their work and subscribers offered virtually the same choice as Bit torrent or Limewire.
Having said all this though, if you were Apple would you let a programme that could rip your entire business structure limb from be sold through iTunes or would you let competition laws be damned and dig in for an expensive legal battle? Thought so.
1. Youtube have now removed the ORIGINAL mix and video of Ready For The Weekend, due to a 'copyright claim'.
2. IT'S MY FUCKING SONG YOU ABSOLUTE BASTARDSabout 4 hours ago from web
3. There are videos up there that other people have uploaded of the same song, and they haven't been removed!? But mine does!about 4 hours ago from web
4. It's the fucking BPI. FUCK YOU 'The BPI' what have you ever done for anybody you useless shower of cuntsabout 4 hours ago from web
5. The BPI are the worst organisation to ever walk the earth and their setup is shambolic and their online employees are all massive retardsabout 4 hours ago from web
6. I'm going to drive my car into the big window in the BPI's offices on my way to the studio this morningabout 4 hours ago from web
7. I'm going to hire a 4x4 for the day so i make more of an impact, and hopefully reach the online monkeys at the back of the officeabout 4 hours ago from web
8. Then i'm going to jump out the sunroof and get busy with a frying pan. OR WOKabout 4 hours ago from web
And finally: 9. Ok I got a bit caught up in the heat of the moment. Sorry to employees of the BPI who aren't massive retards. But please put my video back about 1 hour ago from TwitterBerry
What with JAM TV and now this, Calvin seems to be in overdrive to compensate for the tedium of his music...
Ok I get it it's the Mercury's anyone could win but this years nominations list has seemingly taken several liberties with common sense. The omission of Little Boots I can understand, her early promise was dimished by a disappointing album, Jack Peñate is perhaps a little too brash for the discerning music snob and maybe Doves were sacrificed for predictabilities sake.
But The Maccabees, Metronomy, Lily Allen, Late of the Pier and Manic Street Preachers all lost out in favour of hardly stand out efforts from La Roux, Florence and Kasabian. Equally the unknown quota is up from last year, I'd be lying to have ever heard from Led Bib, The Invisible or Billy Sweet Pilgrim.
This is a list that confirms the Mercury's status as an unpredicatble beast, unwilling to bend to the will of the mainstream music media. My money's on Friendly Fires to snatch it but you can be damned sure I'll be wrong.
A cursory look at this week's charts tell the unlikely story of JLS, 2008 X Factor runners-up, hitting the top spot with their debut single Beat Again. Some comment this hails the start of a boy band revival but more importantly others are pointing to the growing commerical viability of X Factor contestants.
Where as before Leona Lewis there were only two types of talent show finalists, the 'clean cut boy' and the 'morbidly obese'. Now though, we can add 'credible recording artist' to that list.
No longer is the stilted 'bleed them dry whilst people still care' sales approach for applied to contestants. Nowadays they go away for a year, produce a passable album and come back when people might have forgotten the ropey cover they released a year before.
As for JLS they've been savvy and signed to Epic rather than Simon Cowell's own label where doubtlessly their value would be plummeted to somewhere below the paper cost of their contract.
With Diana Vickers now reportedly recording an album in part collaboration with Dev Hynes (a.k.a. Lightspeed Champion) an impending future of tripe it's ok to like awaits.
I’ll be the first to admit, Elly Jackson had me fooled for a while but then again you probably were too. With her flaming ginger quiff, tendency for eighties revivalism and wildly popular brand of electro pop, the La Roux project holds all the markings of one in which its members have aimed to become popstars. Not popstars in the ‘had a hit record but no personality’ sense of the word. A fully fledged keep your own chimpanzee, make a sex book, set your boobs on fire popstar.
Dan Black knows what I mean. Arriving on stage wearing a neon and black skintight lycra concoction he shamelessly endeavours to catch the audience’s attention. Having originally turned heads in the blogosphere with his infectious Notorious BIG remix ‘HPNTZ’, the same levels of effervescent inventiveness are on show throughout his support slot. On tracks such as ‘U + Me’, ‘Alone’ and ‘Yours’ the trick works to a tee. The set suffers however, when Black swings towards sentimentality with the guffaw inducing ‘I Love Life’ serving as a notable lowlight. Still with a persona almost as searing as his stage costume Black pulls off his 21st century disco champ moniker with aplomb.
The same can’t be said for the opening sequence of La Roux’s headline slot at the Roundhouse. Sporting a sliver glitter face tattoo and with the rest of her band mates carefully positioned to open up the centre stage, Jackson shockingly wilts in the limelight. Clutching her microphone stand for dear life and fumbling through opening gambit ‘Tigerlily’, ‘Quicksand’ arrives in unwittingly ironic fashion. Luckily enough for La Roux though, Jackson’s lack of charisma is compensated for by the duo’s consistency in writing hook laden hit after hook laden hit.
It’s an undeniably strange combination of cold synth chords and intense falsetto vocals but time after time it sees a crowd keen for some Saturday night revelry bopping along in unison. Indeed one over-enthusiastic audience member’s hip-swinging amsuses Jackson enough for her to pass comment on the “guy on the balcony going round dancing really badly”.
The ‘Colourless Colour’ that follows finally sees all components of the chart topping machine click into motion and with ‘Bulletproof’ and ‘In For The Kill’ still to follow, one mans ill advised boogie is another’s prescient intervention. “This time baby I’ll be bulletproof”, sings a shrill Jackson and this time you get the impression she means it. La Roux’s performance tonight might not have been on a par with other tightly drilled pop divas but then again this ragtag band aren’t the latest output on a production line, they’re naïve, unschooled and all the more exciting for it.
You only have to take a peek at this years Glastonbury line up to see how dominated the festival circuit has become by a few 'classic' artists who can command a crowd of over 70000. Britain's is practically crying out for a new act with which it can forget its credit crunch woes but thus far nothing has emerged with either the sheer magnetism or mainstream appeal to topple the current hierarchy. That said 2009 and has thus far been marked as 'the year of pleasant surprises', previous no hopers have vindicated themselves above and beyond the minimal expectations held for them whilst more established acts have wallowed in the 'what do we do now' mire. It's not been spectacular but it hasn't been dull either…
10. Lilly Allen - It's Not Me, It's You (EMI) Lily Allen is a narcissistic, loud mouthed, media junkie and almost certainly makes great pop music because of these horrific character traits. Wavering between humble self-deprecation and wild bravado, her sophomore LP delights and frustrates in equal turns. Fewer tracks in the headline grabbing vein of 'It's Not Fair' and more with refreshing honesty of 'The Fame' would have seen the West London singer songwriter grab a higher spot.
9. The Horrors - Primary Colours (XL) Another year comes by and once again it's fashionably fucked up to champion The Horrors purely on the basis of their iconoclastic qualities. Remembering that Glasvegas produced a slightly more anthemic yet similarly shoe-gaze indebted debut in September 2008 'Primary Colours' is still pretty damned impressive. Hiring Geoff Barrow to man the production desk, especially in light of swirling album closer 'Sea Within A Sea,' is probably the best decision the band made since deciding to whore themselves out to the NME.
8. Doves - Kingdom Of Rust (Heavenly Records) A lengthy break between albums which saw their 'critical darlings' tag snatched away by Mancunian brethren Elbow and widely circulated rumours of intra-band conflict didn't bode well for Doves' fourth album. Perhaps openly castigating this lack of faith, "My God it takes an ocean of trust / in this kingdom of rust", Jimi Goodwin et al produced another LP expansive indie rock. Few differences between current and past output may be forthcoming but there's a lot to be said for a band which revels in such effortless consistency.
7. Animal Collective - Merriweather Post Pavillion (Domino) Uncut Magazine say "one of the landmark american albums of the century so far". Pitchfork says "what they've constructed here is a new kind of electronic pop-- one which is machine-generated and revels in technology but is also deeply human, never drawing too much attention to its digital nature." I say, "overlong and preposterously over hyped but still a decent slice of truly alternative music."
6. The Virgins - The Virgins (Atlantic) Harnessing the angular post punk of Gang of Four, Orange Juice and Franz Ferdinand into one easily accessible package, this self-titled debut straight out New York is as fun as it is frivolous. Frontrunner for the best lyric of 2009 with "Well is there something you like about her yes / I like the way that her body bends in half" subject matter rarely strays from sex. However, when such rampant promiscuity produces tunes of the quality of 'Rich Girls' and 'Private Affair' who am I to take the moral high ground.
5. Passion Pit - Manners (Frenchkiss Records / Columbia) It is doubtful that any band has ever had a more appropriate record label than Passion Pit because Manners is a tongue in cheek delight. The story of how the project began as a Valentine's present has been told before, what's most pleasing about Michael Angelakos' debut is how his band have kept the same sense of innocent abandon. A dizzying combination of falsetto vocals and sugar-rush melodies are present from opener 'Make Light', lead single 'The Reeling' and standout track 'Sleepyhead'. Good clean fun.
4. Bat For Lashes - Two Suns (Parlophone) Proudly following in the proud line of British female eccentrics Natasha Khan followed up her Mercury nominated debut album with a record that may well sweep the prize come September. All the elements for a critical choice award are here, most potently on album highlight 'Daniel': orchestral wall of sound (check), ethereal lyrics (check check), bonkers mystical persona (triple check). An album that certainly requires its listener's perseverance but rewards in ample quantity.
3. Jack Peñate - Everything Is New (XL) "I'm in a haze / an in between stage", taken from single 'Today's Tonight', is an apt summary of Peñate's 2007 debut album Matinée in which he largely eschewed his toe tapping inclinations for the same Libertinesesque scuzz-pop everyman and his guitar was peddling. 2009's 'Everything Is New' however, brings back into fold all that was so lacking only two years earlier. With a fresh shrill spooky sound each musical style adapted be it disco or soul tends to fit the new template. Lulling ever so slightly towards its climax, this is still a fantastic indie pop record at a time when indie pop is so often the same derivative three chord schtick.
2. The Maccabees - Colour It In (Fiction) The word 'mature' may be a hideous cliché in the world of music journalism but there seems no other adjective to describe the second album from this Brighton based five piece. Maintaining the intensity of their debut whilst upping the lyrical ante from tales of teenage hormones to fully fledged adult encounters. Love You Better, No Kind Words and William Powers are all fabulously restrained until suddenly swooning in a whirlwind of brazened chords and roundhouse choruses. The bar has been set stratospherically high for their follow up.
1. Yeah Yeah Yeahs - It's Blitz! (Interscope) Fully erasing the memory of the dire Show Your Bones, It's Blitz! represents the best work so far in the bizarrely eclectic Yeah Yeah Yeah's cannon. For a group that made their name with the liberal use of ignoramic shock tactics, see "As a fuck son, you sucked" on early EP track Bang, the New York three piece did well to steer clear of the 'take guitar add synth' route to 'progression' used by so many lesser acts. From the outset of 'Zero', a pulsating vitality is present throughout this Dave Sitek produced record that has no fear in handling complex emotions. Indeed tender peon 'Hysteric' represents the album's highlight with a audibly restrained Karen O crooning "Flow sweetly, hang heavy / You suddenly complete me". A welcome return and the best LP released in 2009 so far by a country mile.
If it was meant to be a secret in the first place, then the veritable pantheon of fans trailing around the Roundhouse wearing shutter sunglasses and 'Glow In The Dark' tour t shirts gave a clear indication of how well kept it had been. Before a single note had been played, a certain hip-hop maverick from Chicago had irreparably stolen the limelight away from the headline artist.
Bearing in mind the circus of celebrity that was about to unveil itself on stage in the next hour, it was perhaps unsurprising that Kid British never really got a look in from a clearly distracted crowd. It seems entirely callous to castigate a band for being lightweight when they name their album It Was This Or Football but on the evidence of 'Sunny Days' and 'Lost in London' maybe a trial at FC United wouldn't have gone amiss for the Manchester collective.
Clearly then, Mr Hudson had some work to do to assert himself and to his credit, the London based singer did largely succeeded on his own terms. Opening with 'One Specific Thing', his culture clash of steel drums, lilting guitar and chiming keyboards threw a welcome curveball to those waiting for a selection of Radio One friendly hip-hop. Even when G.O.O.D. Music label mate Kid Cudi turned up on stage, the ensuing cover of Day 'n' Nite was tinged with an acerbic African flavour.
However, the cruelly ironic twist came when Hudson began to unleash songs off his forthcoming 'Straight No Chaser' LP. Heavily produced and lacking in the brazened honesty of his earlier work, they read as a flagrant concession to chart topping ambition rather than a genuine change in output. No doubt this is exactly what Kanye intends for his protégé but given his own '808s and Heartbreaks' wasn't exactly a tour de force, the unnecessary over compensation in this direction is ill advised.
The K bomb was finally dropped in the encore and after arbitrarily running through 'Heartless' and 'Paranoid' the moment of Hudson's coronation had arrived. "Before You make the biggest mistake of your life" he screamed as the opening synthline from forthcoming single 'Supernova' stuttered in, "just give me a chance to make it right.". It may have been controlled, it may have been calculated but if Hudson can leave his crowd's chanting the refrain "You've got it wrong if you say our love is gone" into the night without the help of his 'mentor' then he could come close to becoming a star in his own right.
"Here we are at the iPod party / I love your friends they're all so arty", leers Alex Kapranos.
One suspects there are few occasions in the history of rock and roll when such a phrase been laced with quite so much loathing for both self and audience. Because in a collective such as Franz Ferdinand where image is everything, appearances are beginning to slip. Not usually a band desperate to sell themselves, when lead single 'Ulysses' off disappointing 3rd album Tonight failed to sear itself into the public consciousness all hands were called to the promotional pump. There were appearances on Ant and Dec's Saturday Night Takeaway and Top Of The Pops, an iPod Touch advert and tonight's event, the last bastion of the sales whore - a corporate gig.
It is possible however, that all Glaswegian woes dispersed from the Roundhouse for the brief forty minute stint in which Passion Pit occupied the stage. Such is the euphoric nature of Michael Angelakos and his merry band of Massachusetts electro-pop troopers that facing their music with anything other than a gurn of careless enjoyment is almost impossible. Taking a while to warm a rather stale crowd to boiling point, a closing one two volley of Sleepyhead and The Reeling ensures the band left their audience with a twitching in their hips ready to be shaken by a post punk swirl of angular guitars and pin sharp bass lines.
On this account then, Franz come good. Given their tendency to 'experiment' on record and produce almost exactly the same sound as their last album, the composition of tonight's set list posits itself firmly within safe territory for the four-piece. Undeniably within their own arthouse mesh the band find themselves on terrific form. Kapranos writhes around on stage in his 'skinny yet seductive' rent boy persona whilst Nick McCarthy dispatches 'Dark Of The Matinee', 'No You Girls' and 'Bite Hard' with the ease and aplomb of a man who's been relentlessly touring his record since January.
After the customary address of 'Take Me Out' however, a change of gears is attempted and ambitions of the band swell over and beyond the weight of the songs on offer. 'Lucid Dreams' may have marked the most eclectic moment on Tonight but live it comes across as three minutes of standard Franz with a bizarrely static krautrock segueway added on. The finale of 'Walk Away' and 'Ulysses' further undermines Kapranos' inability thus far to write a song with either significant emotional weight or significant deviances from past successes.
Make no mistake, when Franz do what they do best, they're practically peerless. It's when they try to sail a different course, that the good ship runs aground all too easily. It's a Catch 22 situation boys and no amount of shameless promotion will put this question to bed.
What do Trent Reznor and David Cameron have in common? Well other than their outstanding sense of self importance, both suffered limited success at online social networking (webcameron peaked far too early) and both seem to hold a particular grudge against the twitter population.
3) Free Stuff - Usually you can tell whether there is going to anything of value inside a promo envelope as all the labels worth mentioning put their logo next to the address. Unfortunately such parcels of joy account for roughly 25% of all promos sent in but out of common courtesy you have to open every one. Even if you will never listen to the radio edit of Bananarama's Love Comes. Imagine then, if you can, my delight at opening a package stuffed with one CD and lots of Haribo, Maoam at that. Unfortunately the promo was tossed aside in the rush for free sweeties.
