This just might be the future of presenting albums: release it as a DVD of videos only.  No CD, just DVD.  Years ago Sonic Youth did it with their Goo video but the plums went and released it as a conventional record also.  Plums.

Sputniko! is a female Japanese artist currently residing (and inventing) in London.  Citing Takako Minekawa (Mrs Cornelius) as one of her many influences here possessed are thirteen tracks of demented and subversive chiptune, almost J-Pop songs in that neon manner only Japanese artists seem able to construct/contrive.  With the cute smiles they get away with murder!

Things begin with “Google Song” and the tale of shy Japanese schoolgirls too scared to speak to boys they fancy who instead put their name into Google as a fluffy adventure into subtle stalking.  Playing on stereotypes, perversion and a wicked sense of fun early Sputniko! reveals herself as a cunning exploiter of the listener’s awareness.

With the invention of Wakki Sputniko! demonstrates her invention of being able to play an instrument designed by herself with movements of her armpit.  On the DVD she later demonstrates that Wakki is a knitted soft toy with a Wii controller inside it and on “Wakki Song” this is where the gift is best examined and executed.

Live favourite “Chinko Song” continues the silly theme of the piece especially when considering that when this pretty young lady is repeatedly singing “chinko” as the chorus she is singing the Japanese word for “penis.”

Slowly the album begins to resemble the music equivalent of commuters reading Anime porn on Tokyo underground as “Child Producing Machine” becomes possibly first and definitely the most explicit ever pop song about a lady having her period.  During the middle of the song she gives birth in what feels an increasingly uncomfortable listen from a lyrical standpoint especially when considering the tone of the vocal delivery and the upbeat Nintendo music guiding the song.  With lyrics such as “I’d rather be a cyborg than a goddess” who can fail?  Here comes a nervous smile from the listener.

Basically here is the dark undercurrent that ripples beneath the beautiful neon lights of the Japanese experience, the one where cartoons are about killers, bears are gloomy and the females are not so subservient after all.  There is part of me that suspects she is something of a female Japanese Borat but at least a good one with it.

In this format accompanied by a grand set of clever videos expertly delivered on a small budget this is a really stunning offering caked in humour and cultural difference confusion.  Sumptuous.

Thesaurus moment: edifying.

Sputniko!

Sputniko! live

360 Degrees Records

I have to admit that this stand-up DVD and album is a few years old now but thanks to his performance in 30 Rock Tracy Morgan has now gained worldwide exposure with his scene stealing moments and with some further investigation I managed to uncover this true gem of a stand-up comedy performance.

Released as a DVD but coming with a bonus audio CD of the show this is by far the best and funniest example of the stand-up art form I have seen this year.

Obviously a great black stand-up comedian is always going to be compared to Richard Pryor and there are definitely some moments that come straight out of his legacy but as with a lot of modern comedy the real strength comes in his invention with crassness.  With this he has that great assertive delivery that snaps and bites just on the right side of sounding aggressive.

As an individual Morgan is a very endearing and mysterious person.  A person widely known for wrestling with various demons his deliver contains a lot of confessional material and streams anecdotes for which a hyperbolic measure feels almost impossible.

Listened to through headphones on public transport this is embarrassingly laugh out loud stuff.  Delivered in a seemingly purposely dumb manner Tracy picks apart peoples tiny foibles with a distinct lack of bashfulness but never is humility a casualty in the piece.

When Michael Jackson passed away earlier this year it felt scarily apt to be listening to Morgan’s run down of his situation on “Don’t Be Like Mike” and how the guy probably just need “a plate” and some family compassion.  Of course Tracy also acts how he would happily boast of being sucked off on the spinning teacups by Michael to his homeboys but that is beside the point.

His admissions of porn preferences and sexual acts (“I like to eat the pussy until I burp”) is both enlightening and levelling as he points out flaws and hypocrisies on both sides of the fence in the war of the sexes.

After a couple of sharp and revealing family anecdotes about relatives tooting cocaine and his cousin Jimmy (“Negative Ass Jimmy”) being in a wheelchair but earning no sympathy in the process, the most genuinely funny material arrives in his observations regarding superheroes.  Or rather more to the point why there are no black superheroes.  After quickly dismissing the Hulk as just being “some drunk white dude” and revealing that Robin “wanna fuck Batman up” Morgan leaves the listener with a whole new perspective on the Marvel Universe.

It all comes together at the end with a bit too much information on the subject of love revenge (“Monique”) and Tracy Morgan fully earns his stripes as a scary talent housed in a scary human being.  Off the back of SNL and 30 Rock though the world knew this already.

Even if it isn’t, it feels fearless.

Thesaurus moment: jocular.

Tracy Morgan

UrbanWorks

The Tromans by now is something of a seasoned songwriter that has been subtly very prolific with his output that stretches right back to his stint fronting San Lorenzo.  After a number of solo efforts here he is once more backed by a band to great degree of success.

Early on there is a staunch Wire/Gang Of Four attached to proceedings with “The Bad One/House Of The Magicks” as a post-punk Jekyll And Hyde feel slaps/snags the track between the rails taking the listener to a very dark place as atmospherics bubble in the background while in the foreground jagged guitars and snarling vocals rule the roost.  This could weather the music of a murder in the rain as a high standard for the record gets set from the start.

As the record revolves equally the sound evolves when a whole new series of instruments are introduced on “Golden Connection” and a mesmerising tone is added like one of those acoustic tracks on a Led Zep record.  With it comes a warm trumpet that sooths the sound into some kind of graceful submission and luscious conclusion as the minor epic closes out to the sound of the coast in all its glory.

Elsewhere there a number of hook laden chants but as the album arrives at “The Dead-Eyed Man” a collective shanty feel erupts over dealings paying tribute to the traditions that came before these times.

The standout track arrives in the form of “Acre”, a genuinely epic workout that represents the sound of a man going through torture as the song distorts and descends into some kind of treasured madness but never outstaying its welcome.

By the time the disc rolls to its conclusion the overriding emotion is one of pleasance at what appears to be some of the bleakest times, this feeling is warm(th).

With a raven on the cover looking over proceedings this is a true departure with everything ventured and everything gained as the eleven tracks on display surf over many spaces and genres to create a very accomplished series of events.

Often with these tunes I feel he is singing about me.  There is a lot of depth here.

Thesaurus moment: requite.

Owen Tromans

Sacred Geometry

Created to accompany and compliment his recent “The Secrets Of Me” album here is Andy Nice again now with a four song EP to download for free featuring a quartet of electronica acts each offering reshaped and enhanced versions of tracks from said album.

The initial reconstruction comes from the hands of fellow Front And Follow recording artists Sone Institute.  To the string-based haven of “The 4^th Man” now added into the mix are further intricate atmospherics adding a new dimension of mortality.  Keys drop into the mix as vastness rules supreme and the layer affect hits home.

Following comes the remix effort of Yellow6 serving to compliment the original cello strands with a delicate bass pulse giving the track “Orangeblu Home” a new lease of energy and infusion of trait before it all breaks down in calculated method at dusk with eleventh hour female vocals emotively dropping in.  With it a submerging sensation is added to the already claustrophobic feel of the track.

Stepping up next is the Isnaj Dui take on “Dr Titan” with is a full frontal squeal of angst allowing the cello to breathe in amongst desolate whistles and mesmerising sounds that serve to further enhance the hypnotic aspects of Mr Nice’s music.

Keeping up with the Front And Follow theme/motif of the releases the final remix comes courtesy of Elite Barbarian who also take a stab at “The 4^th Man”.  This is the most full on electronic remix of the release as bleeps hang heavy over proceedings often snuffing out key textures of the original.

As an exercise in music exploration these four new renderings manage to add new textures to already fulfilling pieces of music creating a whole new identity all their own.  Awash with chilled elements none of the remixes outlast their welcome.

This EP can be downloaded for free at www.jointhecircle.net/andy

Thesaurus moment: again.

Andy Nice

Sone Institute

Yellow6

Isnaj Dui

Elite Barbarian

Front And Follow

As ever Male Bonding invade the joint with scratchy guitar and a reckless sense of adventure.  Today with their contribution to this split single of “Year’s Not Long” they up the tempo/pace from their usual trudge before winding up in some kind of circling frenzy that revitalises proceedings before the band launch into the final leg of their energy infused declaration of fuzz.  The increase in speed does not serve them well as it feels as if it dilutes their temperament gives them something of an upbeat sound that doesn’t snap as effectively as previous efforts from them.

The Eat Skull effort sounds as if it has been recorded from a television using a cheap cassette player.  It is a real spinning top of an affair of warped funfair surf guitar music that almost sounds like a Hammond organ and vocals delivered in an equally dizzying fashion and crashing expletive.  This is fat person go-go dance music, made to look ugly when really under the masks are clean faces and stupid but cool hairstyles.  “Heaven’s Stranger” would make good theme music to a camp television show about a one legged crime fighter.

A nuisance to the industry.

Thesaurus moment: haze.

Male Bonding

Eat Skull

Tough Love Records

Deastro is a band (or rather “band”) who I’ve totally lost my shit over this summer. I discovered him just a few months ago and have been gobbling up as much of his electronic tunes as I possibly can. The best thing is, he’s already released two free digital EPs, including his latest one Dead Kids EP. Strange name, considering there’s nothing on here that’s reminiscent of death…

If you’re still trying to hold onto the last moments of summer, Deastro’s got your fix. Bright and shiny songs that are like a sun happy mix of M83, U2, and The Postal Service. The stuff is just full of so much energy and optimism without being drippy or disgustingly over the top, it’s impossible not to love.

Unlike his previous records that have some super hooks and catchy choruses, Dead Kids EP is entirely instrumental. And they’re so lush and synthy and dancey and poppy and occasionally kinda cheesy. In a good way.

It’s a good thing Deastro has been releasing free stuff, that way he can get his name out there and you’ll all realize how crazy you’ve been for not giving this man the money he so rightly deserves. So download Dead Kids and you’ll immediately be driven to go buy Moondagger and Keeper’s because, like me, your hunger will become insatiable.

Deastro
Deastro’s Blog (to download Dead Kids EP)

Electric Assembly are old school. Oooooold skoooooool. A post-rockin’ quartet fresh outta god knows where (probably London), they’ve been smacking out the jams for nigh-on five years, but this new EP could seriously have come out any time in the last fifteen years. Drones? Check. Shoegazing guitars through a million delay pedals? Check. Some ultra-simplistic chord changes and minimal drum patterns? Check. Electric Assembly describe themselves as “The Velvet Underground plays Boards Of Canada produced by Kevin Shields arranged by Sun Ra listened to by Syd Barrett”, but I think I can do it in one word: Spiritualized.

Opener ‘Descent Pattern’ (iTunes likes to call it “Desent Pattern”, which I kinda prefer) is pretty much an intro that goes on for 4 minutes. A strummed guitar spends a while setting the scene, eventually joined by more guitar, drums and some lovely booming bass that lumbers in on the horizon like a nuclear bomber flying overhead. Reminds me quite a bit of when Six By Seven knocked out a couple of decent tunes back in ’97. Just when it’s reaching a peak it stops and meanders into the next song…

Second track “11:43” is actually 19 minutes and 22 seconds long and seems to take even longer to get going. All multi-delayed soaring guitars over laid back clean guitar strumming and a pretty slow four-on-the-floor backbeat, the first few minutes are pretty dull to be honest. It sounds like the lead guitarist is having a great time, but I can just imagine the bassist turning his eyes to the floor and wondering when something’s going to happen. I’m as much a fan as the delayed build-up as anyone (hey, the first Tarentel album was pretty much just a series of build-ups and crescendos, and  it’s got some real moments on it), but when the 11:43 mark finally hits and all that’s still happening is that the guitarist is still wanking off a hot one, I wonder if this track is anything more than a self-indulgent extended jam. Then I start wondering about vinegar strokes with guitar solos and it’s time to move on. That’s 20 minutes of my life I’d like back, please.

“Broken” starts out a little more promisingly, with some nice keyboard or processed guitar layers with the tone backed all the way off to make ’em sound more like Stars Of The Lid from back in the day. It’s complemented by some nice understated bass, and then some half-sung vocals and some slow arpeggiated guitar. It’s a nice contrast to the preceding track, even though it sounds not far off a drummerless cover of Joy Division’s circa “Atmosphere”. Obviously it’s not as good as that though. Pleasant as the vocals are, the guy singing ’em sure ain’t a vocalist, as some of the phrasing is awkward to say the least. A guitar starts feedbacking nicely towards the end to highlight the melodicism and treads a very fine line between ‘nice’ and ‘total cheese’.

“Wipe the sun off your shoes” is the final track and is another mantra of repeated chord sequences as the guitarist slowly gets his jig on again and starts soaring up, up and away. And that’s it. Five minutes of build-up and then it peters out again quite quickly. It’s quite a nice understated song for the most part, even if the drums sound like they’re sampled from ‘Mogwai Fear Satan’.

Overall, Electric Assembly are defiantly not following current fashion, which can only be applauded. However, they do seem to be defiantly following something that went out of fashion a few years ago. That’s not a bad thing either, but the thing is, there’s nothing here that I haven’t heard a few thousand times before, and usually done a fair bit better. I hate writing negative reviews but this is some seriously uninspiring shit right here: Must try harder.

Anyway, ‘White Splinter’ has been released in a limited edition of 100 CDs in swanky hardboard hand-painted covers and they’re a-running out already. Get yourself over the band’s website to hear some of this music and purchase a copy if you’re a more forgiving person than me:

Electric Assembly website

Electric Assembly Myspace

Dream Driven Records website

The Male Nurse were this amazing Fall-esqe spiky lo-fi band that hit the DIY scene around the same time as Bis, The Delgados, Urusei Yatsura and Mogwai et al.  Sharing a guitarist with The Country Teasers they sported one of the scariest and most awkward looking frontmen around.

They put out a few singles but when they recorded a session for John Peel in June 1997 it revealed them at their most demented as the stand out track “My Own Private Patrick Swayze” describing a scenario that could only be derived from the most disturbed recesses of the human mind.  The whole season was great but it really was this song that stood out and astounded and set The Male Nurse several pegs higher than the latest crop of The Fall wannabes.

Proceedings begin with the singer Keith Farquhar declaring that he has his “own two feet high Patrick Swayze living under his bed at night.”  Through the ensuing verses what happens to this little man gets described in great depth, not least the reality that the two foot high Patrick Swayze would get regularly measured and if he grew he would be in trouble.  Next the narrator describes how his favourite item of clothing for the two foot high Patrick Swayze is the “Elvis gear.”  Finally at night Swayze would apparently be found serving cocktails “wearing men’s but women’s stockings and suspenders” but eventually being wrapped up in gaffa tape and being the prize in some demented game of pass the parcel.  Fantasy in indie never got so explicit or spectacular.  You can bet neither Pete Doherty or Kasabian ever wrote songs like this.

Tapes of this session/performance rapidly circulated and in my own experience occasionally served as car singalong music in a decrepit Wayne’s World style.

Sadly the band missed the boat on this momentum and by the time the song was finally released as a single it was long after the enthusiasm for the Peel session had died down and even then it felt as if this version of song (unsurprisingly inferior to the session version) was laboured and rushed out.  The band never even released an album.

Elsewhere on the record “Deep/Fried” is a real departure from the band away from their original scratchy guitar roots moving onto tinny drum machine beats and keyboard hopscotch pierced by nonsensical repetitive lyrics.  In many ways this would prove to be their song most in the spirit of The Fall.

As the news of Patrick Swayze’s passing on the same day as Keith Floyd filters through here is my backwards tribute to a very bad actor.

Thesaurus moment: inspired.

The Male Nurse

Guided Missile

Sounding like the Weezer take on grunge this is a relatively clean affair when I had been led to believe that this would be the return to superfuzz.

Believe it or not once upon a time circa the early nineties a hell of a lot of indie bands sounded like this, bands that were too clean for Kerrang but packed enough punch in order to alienate themselves far enough away from the charts and too much mainstream coverage.

There is an air of a good Senseless Things song and a sharp Mega City Four one attached to this one sided seven inch (one side for reasons known only to the band and their label).

You would like to think that the “Traynor” reference is to Todd Trainor, which would be cool, but there is nothing really in this record that would suggest anything so savvy.  Instead all signs appear to point to a sound that will eventually soften and have any nasty, rebellious edges ironed out as the band, if they are lucky, will find themselves being picked up by good management and a major in the style of say a Nine Black Alps only to find themselves being dropped one record later.  At least it is not pop punk or dad rock.

For a band sending out such negative vibes you really do not sense any such malice in their delivery or voices.  Suck it in, toughen up.

Yours sincerely.

Thesaurus moment: lambs

Dinosaur Pile-up

Friends Vs Records

Okay, okay, so this album came out way back in the distant past – well, 2008 at least – and it’s totally remiss of me to have taken until now to get around to writing even these bare few words about it. In all honesty though, that’s one aspect of ‘being a reviewer’ that I can never get my head around: the need to act hastily and be constantly at the mercy of release schedules and whatnot. Nuts to all that, I say, music’s supposed to be timeless, isn’t it? Surely that should stand for reviews, too. Especially in these days of digital downloads and blah blah blah. Anyway. Suturee – ie ‘one who has been sutured’ – have put together a lovely album here. It’s sleepy and slightly blurred in the way that Galaxie 500 once were – soft rhythm tracks with clear guitar lines ringing through, and almost whispered dual male/female vocals. A sense of relaxation and bliss permeates. It’s a really clean production, too, with lots of space left open by the dulled drums, allowing for echo and reverb to ring out on the vocal and guitar lines. There’s something of the Low about Suturee, but without being so dramatically sparse. This is more lush (with a lower-case l), with some of that post-MBV subtle strummed-chords-being-bent guitar stuff going on. What sets it apart from being yet another nu-shoegaze recording, though, is a sense of exploration and differentness that comes through from time to time. The banjo that ramps up the emotion on ‘Afraid Of Hands’, or the piano-led sad whimsy of ‘Wait Less’, suggest more than simple copycatting going on here. It’s also beautifully compact – nine tracks in just over half an hour. Yep, it took me maybe a year to listen to just over half an hour of music. Luckily, it was very much worth the wait.

Suturee website