Late on Saturday evening a notice was placed on the official oasis.net website:
Applications are now open for the position of 'UK's Most Irrelevant Band'. Those applying must:
Not have produced a decent album for a minimum of ten years
Be heavily indebted, bordering on parody, to at least one of The Beatles / The Stone Roses / T-Rex (delete as applicable)
Hold the ability to produce statements as clichéd as the below: "Radiohead and Coldplay think too much. They get to a certain level and start worrying about the environment. That's for the governments of the world to worry about. We need to concentrate on fucking women, taking drugs, wearing sunglasses and being cool. Never mind the polar bears."
Av it!
Do worse or equivalent to the below:
As the rumours fly round on the reasons for the dissolution of Manchester's most prevalent four piece - Latest: Liam turns up to Paris gig drunk, insults Noel's kids and throws his acoustic guitar him, Noel stamps on it and quits - the most surprising dimension to this story has been the lack of outrage that has met it. When a similar occurrence took place in Barcelona in 2000, the idea of a day of public morning was still feasible. Three more underwhelming records down the line and no-one seems to give half a toss.
On the contrary, there seems to be a much prevalent sense of relief that Noel can finally get on with that long promised solo record. Given the warmth of reaction to his last solo tour, that slim hope of a long undelivered return to form may come to burn a little more brightly over the coming months.
With a pair of lungs freshly lined from half of the dust circulating Reading festival and the smooth baritone that accompanies such a dire medical condition I'm back. Rather than writing an endless review, of which there are many elsewhere, here are a couple of jovially invented awards for the best and worst acts to play the festival:
Band I Never Thought I'd See Headline: Billy Talent
Band I Wish I'd Never Seen Headline: Arctic Monkeys
Best Use Of 'Mad Scientist' Pensioner In A Brass Band: Friendly Fires
Phrase I Never Wish To Hear Again: "Where are my Reading warriors at?" (Maxim Reality - The Prodigy)
Inspired Cover: Don't Stop Believing - Fall Out Boy
Twenty Minutes On Stage And The Kit Is Still Broken: The Big Pink
Thought They'd Be Awful, Turned Out Awesome: Crystal Castles
75% Of His Crowd Waiting For Them Crooked Vultures: Patrick Wolf
Wishes He Was Dave Grohl: Josh Homme
Wishes He Was John Paul Jones: Dave Grohl
Wishes He Was Still In Led Zeppelin: John Paul Jones
Reading a Pitchfork list is often the equivalent of eating a tub of Ben & Jerry's ice cream in one sitting - mine's a Chocolate Fudge Brownie if you're asking.
The more you go through the tub, the more gluttonous satisfaction you derive from its contents, yet at the same time the burden of Catholic guilt begins to grow. You begin to ask questions of yourself: Should I know all of these bands? Are these placements really justified? How do they mix the brownie in the ice cream without losing its chewiness? etc... By the time you finish the pot, a strange mix of shame and fulfilment inhabits your body.
Following this flawed logic you can superficially accept the top 10 songs of the 2000s list Pitchfork has offered up, that is until you get to the typically disillusioned number one spot given to Outkast's B.O.B. It's a suitably bizarre choice pandering to a self-absorbed critical elite but then I'd have been disappointed if any sort of concession to sanity had been made. Overall I'd give the entire exercise a 6.89:
Ironically the song I myself had lined up as a probable oversight came in at number four so my disappointment has been placated somewhat.
In terms of a song that sums up the first decade of the twenty first century, Crazy In Love fits the bill to a tee. Combining the dominance of black music in popular culture, a sample resting on music's unhindering gaze back to the golden days of Motown and a near universal appeal regardless of age or background, I'm at a loss to pick anything else.
The top ten in reverse order is:
10. Neighbourhood #1 (Tunnels) - Arcade Fire
9. My Girls - Animal Collective
8. Idioteque - Radiohead
7. Get Ur Freak On - Missy Elliot
6. Maps - Yeah Yeah Yeahs
5. One More Time - Daft Punk
4. Crazy In Love - Beyoncé [ft. Jay Z]
3. Paper Planes (Diplo Remix) - M.I.A. [ft. Bun B and Rich Boy]
2. All My Friends - LCD Soundsystem
1. B.O.B. - Outkast
Oh Little Boots how I used to love your brand of space age pop before you ditched all sense of restaint in the tawdry Hands. Now you won't return my calls and keep producing lacklustre JLS covers just to spite me. Maybe we could flee to Mexico, record a folk/acid-house album and start over again? It probably wouldn't be met with reviews as bad as Jet's Shine On.
Speaking of clumsy links, increased time flicking between MTV2 and NMEtv has caused me to accept the latest single from Australia's best musical graverobbers as a decent slice of old school rawk & roll. Not that Iggy Pop or AC/DC are dead yet, it's just the sight of Angus Young's withered torso does indicate some pact with the devil has been made.
Finally, it would be wrong to end this post of mild surpise and beloise disappointment without a passing mention to Weezer's recently leaked single (If You Are Wondering If I Want You To) I Want You To to be taken from their seventh studio album Raditude..yes you read that right....Raditude! Fittingly it comes as a mild surprise that after the tentative shift towards former glories in last years The Red Album, the post-Pinkerton Rivers Cuomo has returned to the beloise disappointment of normal.
With his two albums thusfar on Parlophone proving undignified flops, then it comes as no surprise that Peter Doherty recently spewed fresh details on the inevitable 2010 The Libertines reunion to the nearest NME journalist. Here's an analysis of the quotes pulled from the article:
Doherty: "The Libertines will play festivals in 2010" - Reading better offer us £2 million to play again
Barat: "We've left it as next year [for a reunion]" - If my solo record has any success at all, I'll do my best to dodge this torrid cash grabbing excersise
Doherty: "I spoke to John Hassall, he's well up for it." - Why won't anyone listen to Yeti?
Doherty: "Maybe I could reform The Libertines without him [Barat], like he did without me [Barat played Libertines shows without him in 2004 when Doherty was kicked out of the band for drug use]" - I really really need the money
Doherty: ""I'll put an advert in NME: 'Carlos lookalike required'." - £££££££££££££££
Get out your party hats and dance gaily around the Maypole everyone because BBC News tells me the fight against the ticketing rip-off merchants is won!
At a conference earlier this year, police and major UK festival organisers came together to boil up a solution to such scams earlier this year. With one prong of attack the Metropolitan Police's Central E-crime Unit closes down the offenders, 11 sites since last September, and with the other Viagogo and Seatwave allows the trade to continue at vastly inflated prices allowing the festival owners and ticket merchants getting a second cut of the profit.
Compare this arrangement to the Fort Knox style one that will occur should I win an Arctic Monkeys @ Brixton Academy ticket in their fan ballot and it's pretty clear this mess has just been swept under the carpet for the meanwhile:
Tickets are limited to 2 per person.
The show is strictly 16+ and will require all entrants to bring a form of photographic I.D.(Passport, Driving License, National Identity Card).
If you do not have a valid form of photo I.D. you will be refused entry to the venue.
Each successful applicant must when entering the venue on the night have a valid form of photo I.D. which correlates to the name on the ticket.
Each successful applicant must enter the venue with the person holding their second ticket. If the person with the second ticket is not with the successful applicant then the 2nd ticket will be invalidated.
The reselling of these tickets is strictly prohibited and tickets will be invalidated.
In 2006 from within the eye of an unstoppable whirlwind of plaudits and hyperbole Alex Turner predicted his own downfall. "Well in five years will it be 'Who the fuck's Arctic Monkeys?'" he sang on the title track of the similarly named EP. In 2009 Humbug will doubtless prove the record that spawns the greatest downtrend in the popularity of his Sheffield four piece.
Your first thought after giving their third album its initial spin is 'where are the singles?' If you thought Crying Lightning was a cumbersome first cut lacking the immediacy of I Bet You Look Good... or the funfair romanticism of Fluorescent Adolescent, then you'll struggle to find anything of a similar nature on this LP. Pretty Visitors is a close call but a malevolent organ intro leading into a meaty Black Sabbath riff has never been a textbook route into the hearts of a nation.
Gone as well are the soap opera epithets where Turner would elevate the niceties of "cuddles in the kitchen" to iconic status whilst leaving the bump and the grind to those without the deftness of lyrical touch to allude to anything else. Acerbic wit still remains the foundation of his trade "what came first: the chicken or the dickhead?" However, tales of intoxicated teenagers on the run from the rozzers seem a world apart from a detailed documentary of a man who has fully succumbed to his adult impulses "let's make a mess lioness".
What Humbug represents is a bold stride away from the breakneck speed that sustained the Monkeys for their first two albums. Time spent in the Mojave Desert with Josh Homme has added a considerable bulk to the once wiry frames who used to carry a meatier-than-most brand of indie rock. Dangerous Animals thrives on the forcefulness of Jamie Cook's guitar playing, of which each slash carries the intent of Satan's own sledgehammer.
This emphasis upon rhythmical weight proves a vital source of disparity in contrast to the tender croon of Turner, who's Scott Walker inspired The Last Shadow Puppets side-project has helped to smooth over the sometimes jarring cracks that one inherits from a Yorkshire accent. With this ability to spit and swoon with equal verve, the central tenant of misplaced affections in Cornerstone gives an honest appraisal above and beyond his previous fairytales of the working class.
At times the relentless drive of Humbug towards a jagged edge can mire its contents within their own sordid schematic. Potion Approaching chugs by without a necessary shot of petroleum to its bloodstream and album closer The Jeweller's Hands fails to draw the curtains with either the widescreen summations of A Certain Romance or the personal bereavement of 505. Still when the gears fall into place, as with Dance Little Liar, these Mis-Shapes are worth tolerating as stumbling blocks littering the side of a yellow brick road.
In 2006 from within the eye of an unstoppable whirlwind of plaudits and hyperbole Alex Turner predicted his own downfall.... the world will have to wait on for that day to arrive.
The future of music journalism is to put it lightly, bleak. In recent ABC magazine circulation figures released this week sales of IPC Media’s NME, whose recently appointed new editor Krissi Murison is due to take control on September 1 following the departure of Conor McNicholas, plummeted more than 27% year on year and hovered just above 40,000 weekly copies in June. Meanwhile sales of Bauer Media’s metal title Kerrang! dropped by an alarming 28% year on year to 43,253. As a whole the magazine industry’s music sector recorded an overall slump in sales of 9.4%.
In fact the only music publication to buck the trend is the depressingly titled Classic Rock which recorded a 5.5% jump in sales to 70,301 per month. Going on lose sterio types then it seems the only group buying music magazines at the moment are 40-50 year old balding 'rawkers' who still haven't quite come to terms yet with the fact Led Zeppelin will never put on a full reunion tour.
This figure does go some way to explaining the rapid decline of the New Musical Express though. It's a publication that has always been linked to the younger end of the market, a tradition that was deepened further by Conor McNicholas with a series of covers on popular youth culture such as Skins and The Mighty Boosh.
Furthermore, after the relative collapse of the Britpack (Franz Ferdinand, Bloc Party and the Kaiser Chiefs) the NME has seemingly spent the last two years without an iconic indie posterboy/girl whilst having to settle for heavy coverage on populist but unexciting options including The Enemy, Kings Of Leon and Biffy Clyro. Add to this a writing team that seem to think the entire point of a review is to either name drop incessantly, make any number of outlandish statements without hope of backing them up or to produce an ode to your own sense of self importance and the future can only spell 'T-R-O-U-B-L-E'.
Life on Comedy Central is usually a breeze. Double doses of Frasier, South Park and Scrubs are all good by my book but sometimes in the midst of a lughter coma you can drift into King of Queens, Two And A Half Men and, the anti-christ of comedy, Everybody Loves Raymond. Despite being the worlds worst tautology my hatred for this show at least inspired me to recast each of character with a real life counterpart:
Raymond - Too busy being relentlessy smug to realise most of the world hates the same repetitive schtick he's been pulling for years... step forward Noel Gallagher.
Deborah - Spends her entire life nagging anyone who will listen about the dullest quandries imaginable... Joe Whiley/Fearne Cotton beacuse they're basically the same person aren't they?
Robert - The more likeable brother who try as he might, still can't hide the fact that his talents are much the lesser of his opposing sibling... has to be Liam Gallagher.
Frank - Growing old ungracefully, little sense for political correctness, possibly hiding a far right leaning... Morrisey take a bow you old mucker.
Marie - Constantly mouthing off on the problems of everyone else to hide her own personality defects... Lily 'Some people are just bad at taking drugs' Allen
Amy - Humble to the point of embarassment, contibution to the world negligible... sorry bout the divorce and everything however... Peter Andre
Got any other sitcom archetypes to match up with reality? Post them below...
The Oxford dictionary definition of a supergroup goes something like this: 'A group of musicians who found fame and relative success within seperate bands unite to write material of a dismal quality in new act. Media attention sustains the group for debut album toruing cycle before various members come to their senses and flee back to what they were good at in the first place.'
It's a textbook formula that applies regardless of the talent of the individual parts. Enter Them Crooked Vultures, a new three piece featuring Josh Homme (Queens of the Stone Age), John Paul Jones (Led Zeppelin) and Dave Grohl (Foo Fighters, Nirvana) who performed their first show together at Metro Chicago in Illinois on Sunday August 9, 2009. Not a bad line up on paper but in practice I'd brace yourself for a crushing disappointment.
I'll admit there are a few exceptions Cream, The Good The Bad and The Queen and Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young but the rest hardly set a sterling example. Velvet Revolver (GNR re-hashed), The Highwaymen (like Live at Folsom never happened) and Angel & Airwaves (Blink 182 + U2 = identity crisis).
Perhaps the best we can hope for from this new collective that certainly seem to reassert the 'super' in supergroup, rather than the usual 'drummer from Milburn, bassist from Little Man Tate', is one decent single. Even Jack White's 3rd blues infused band the Dead Weather just about made that benchmark when their debut was released earlier this year.
Beneath the glitz and the glamour of the pop world there is a fierce competition emerging. Out of a list of many contenders the battle for 'Most Entertaining Pop Star of 2009' has narrowed itself into two candidates.
In the red corner we have the Scottish chart sensation Calvin Harris. In musical terms he lags far behind many of his peers, even risking permanent exclusion from his brethen for the heinous Holiday but this DJ cum poet laureate for the twitter generation has fought back hard with a series of inexplicably genius manouvres including the previously mentioned JAM TV and 'Best Twitter Rant Of All Time'. Calvin's record label Columbia have clearly been keeping tabs on these tactics for a while and today in an extrodinary peice of 'throw money at stuff for da kidz' marketing we saw the emergence of the Humanthasizer. Words simply cannot describe this contraption so video will have to:
In the blue corner, holding an ever lessening lead is Lady Gaga. She has the tunes, she has the interview technique and she has the rumours of being a hermaphrodite but most importantly it's tactics like the below that keep her in a league of her own...
Today the 'special edition' of seminal Manchester band The Stone Roses self titled debut was released. It is of course 'definitive' exactly until Silvertone scrape the Roses barrel for an eighth time but leaving such questions aside, you've got to ask "Is the record worth the luxurious treatment it has been afforded?" My answer, and presumably anyone who was at the Haçineda in 1989 or Spike Island in 1990 will take umbridge with it, is no.
The Stone Roses is a solid four star, eight out of ten, indie pop album featuring three era defining singles, one guitarist heavily in debt to the psychedelia of Love and a rhythm section so sensuous their grooves make love to your ears in ways that are illegal in at least twenty four US states.
On the downer, Ian Brown has and never will be able to sing in tune, a fact John Leckie was presient enough to drown out in Mani's silky basslines. Fools Gold and Elephant Stone weren't originally included, the nine minutes fifty four second version of Fools Gold on the new re-release is a good five mintes too long and therefore doesn't count. The world could also have done without the dreary Bye Bye Badman and Shoot You Down as well.
Still this ragtag four piece had more than enough character to take a decent record and sear its memory into the hearts and minds of those who were alive at the time. Maybe that is an acheivement worth celebrating after all.
The whole point of history is that it shouldn't repeat itself. Time chewed up, spat out and chose to forget the eighties because the space in between apocalyptic visions of HIV epidemics and endless Thatcherite governments was filled by Smash Hits, MTV and Simon Le Bon. Popular culture offered no lasting satisfaction beyond three minute thirty second segments designed to cater to your carnal instincts.
Shoegaze in the later part of the decade acted as an essential counterpoint this manifesto. Turning the amp levels up to 11 and bathing an often inventive sense of melody within a heavy shroud of feedback meant no teenie bopper was ever likely to trade in her seven inch of Girls On Film for a copy of the Ride EP.
As Sid Vicious aptly demonstrated during his brief stint in the Sex Pistols however, volume is no substitute for talent. In fact the restrictions caused by using a wall of sound can often only serve to hem the artist in a tightly defined parameter. Furthermore, The Big Pink haven't made things any easier for themselves by creating a concept album based on a chemical imbalance.
When a pained Robbie Furze proclaims on Velvet "I'm not looking for love, but it's hard to resist / I don't recall, me and mistakes", it would be easy to misread lofty ambition as overreaching bluster. Yet where similar revivalists The Horrors and The Twilight Sad have faltered this London duo manage to extract an even greater palette from white noise.
Opening track Crystal Visions aptly clicks the wheels of aural cut and thrust into motion but A Brief History really kicks into life with the crunching Too Young To Love. Sounding exactly like the rigid two fingered salute Kevin Shields would have offered up had he to suffer the torment of La Roux, it shudders along on a pounding rhythm, never threatening to relinquish its grip on your consciousness until squealing out of sight again.
Dominos further draws you into the digital mesh with an infectious chorus and pitch perfect production job done by Robbie Furze and Milo Cordell in which you can hear each jagged beat drop into the razor wire haystack. The latter’s time at the helm of noise-rock label Merok has obviously had a lasting effect, Golden Pendulum recalls the same spaced out tranquillity as Klaxons' Two Receivers whilst Count Backwards From Ten contains the frequency bending tenacity which Crystal Castles hold so dear.
As such it's a stunning debut that pitches itself between the anthemic sing-alongs of Glasvegas and the sonic mastery of My Bloody Valentine. The title track in particular goes beyond the deliberate subversiveness of lesser Camden Kool Things, finding calm within the chaos to slow the onslaught and reflect on the LPs common thread. Musing on the aftermath of a break up "a beautiful smile bent out of shape, is this the road to heaven that you wanted to take?" proves a devastatingly simple couplet.
Whilst 2009 may bordering on parody of 1989, The Big Pink make you glad that history has repeated itself. A Brief History Of Love isn't the next Definitely Maybe designed to unite a factioned youth in one boozy chorus. It sets out its stall as an outsider from the beginning, threatening to fall on its sword before surrendering to the everyman's whim. It is a record that proves that battle to be worth fighting.
No one wants the most memorable point in their music career to be a viral video but this will probably be the fate of Raygun. Having a big mouth hasn't always a bad thing (see Johnny "better than Dylan" Borrell) but when your lead singer utters the phrase "We might have mojitos at 11am in the morning! I mean, what the hell, man?" Well you've got it coming don't you?
You are currently looking at (statistically) the best pop act of all time.
This week the Black Eyed Peas scored the longest successive stay at the top of the US Billboard Hot 100 singles chart by a duo or group. The band have spent 17 weeks at the top after initially spending 12 at Number One with Boom Boom Pow before their current single I Gotta Feelingtook over for a further five weeks.
On a purely numerical this makes the BEP better than Madonna, MJ, Prince, Bowie and last (and almost certainly least) Usher from who they took ownership of the record. This is of course ludicrous but it does beg the question of how to judge 'the greatest pop star ever question' if not by the hand of such a blunt instrument.
Here are a couple home-brewed examples:*
1) Universal Appeal - Gimme Gimme Gimme a song laced with sexual inneudo but make sure everyone from six to sicty can dance to it.
2) Charisma - The true personality of a pop star should always remain a mystery. The best create their own enigma and discard this Man In The Mirror as soon as the public's attention begins to waver.
3) Trend Setters - No pop legend worth their salt has ever towed the party line fom musical era to musical era. Such a Toxic lack of innovation condemns the Holly Valences, the Jason Donnovans, the 3 of a Kinds of the Top 40 graveyard.
4) Image Is Everything - One Way Or Another members of your own sex should want to be you and the other portion of the world's population should want to be with you. Whether this means dressing up as a school girl or sporting a lightning bolt accross your face is your perogative.
5) The Devil Is In The Details - Pavorotti could sing but could he dance, compose, direct his own video and protest his own virginty until the eventual emergence of a graphic sex tape? No! That morbidly obese Italina would not be able to say, "I'm Still Standing".**
These criteria should only act as a rough guideline but using them as my guide, I propose the best contender for a while to take her place within this already esteemed pantheon:
* Advanced apologies for horrific use of pop based puns ** This was as painful to type as it must have been to read
Seems like bands are being an extra generous bunch these days. First, Arctic Monkeys announce they're releasing the physical formats of Crying Lightning through Oxfam and then, not ones to be outdone, Radiohead release the completely new Harry Patch (In Memory Of) as a charity download.
From the Arctic's point of few, it's a nice gesture although not one likely to bring in the mega bucks for Oxfam. In a recent analysis of the midweek charts, even indie pin-up Florence + The Machine's Rabbit Heart (Raise It Up) made no. 16 on only 64 physical sales. Still, the Monkeys hold a loyal enough fanbase for the release to make a decent contribution to Oxfam's coffers.
Meanwhile, 'Harry Patch' goes beyond a fitting tribute for the World War I veteran and straight into the Radiohead A list. The sole use of a string section is such a perfect accompaniment for Thom Yorke's typically mournful voice that its almost a wonder that they haven't spun this trick before. Meanwhile the lyrics provide a rare glimpse of Yorke acting outside abstracts and in the character of someone else "i am the only one that got through / the others died where ever they fell". Truly touching stuff...
Proceeds from the £1 track go straight to the British Legion, make sure you select gift aid if you can afford to make the purchase, so here's the link again.
Credibility is a strange thing. Preston, former frontman of The Ordinary Boys, had it when his band released their proficient ska-punk debut Over The Counter Culture. Lost it with the appaling Brassbound. Heroically tried to side step the entire issue by entering Celebrity Big Brother and going on an arena tour which of course all ended in the end of the band, his marriage although apparently not his record deal.
Which brings us to Dressed To Kill, Sousxie and The Banshees sample aside, there is not a shred of dignity in this song. The pose shots in the video seem almost eye gougingly awful and the song itself is the next in the seemingly never ending factory line of electro pop. BUT it is good, maybe in a 'so bad it's good way' but still it's catchy as hell.
I can't really see a prosperous pop career for Preston purely on the basis that so many people would be happy to see him fail miserably. Yet if he can scrape together a few more tunes along this line, then he might be able to escape from the endeavour with more pride he than he did leaving the Celebrity Big Brother house.
If the picture above doesn't raise a glimmer of a smile on your face either you're really not a mondays person or you haven't yet watched the Flight of the Conchords. The second season documenting the life and times of New Zealand's fourth most popular guitar-based digi-bongo acapella-rap-funk-comedy folk duo is out on DVD today and has accordingly launched its way straight to the top of my 'things to buy when I have the money list'. For the uninitiated there's even a compilation box set of both series so far.
Music however, remains free on myspace and spotify at least. Therefore, you have no reason to check out both Lanterns on the Lake and Mumford and Sons two equally brilliant folk based bands operating on a slightly more serious basis.
Starting with the more established Mumford, a further addition to the decent bands associated with Laura Marling list, if can ignore the comical qualities of extensive banjo abuse then you'll no doubt become quickly absorbed in their mix of heart on sleeves lyrics and tender harmonies.
Lanterns are much lesser known affair, I only discovered them by chance after giving their promo a spin whilst on work experience. Their Misfortunes & Minor Victories EP not only surpassed my lowely expectations but stole a small piece of my heart. I defy you not to listen to A Kingdom and not have your socks charmed straight off.
Clealry recording with Josh Homme has had both a deep and profound effect on the Arctic Monkeys. Not a bunch famed for their great use of the music video artform this could represent a new low for them.
Queens Of The Stoneage - Go With The Flow
Arctic Monkeys - Crying Lightning
Whoever came up with the idea to swap 'cool car/sperm' with 'old boat' deserves a pay cut. If the same person came up with the lifesize 'Rock God Alex Turner' this may well prove his last outing in the field.
Late on Saturday evening a notice was placed on the official oasis.net website:
