PJ Harvey - The Hope Six Demolition Project Review

Allow me to utterly discredit myself as a fan of music and let everyone in on a secret.  I’ve never

listened to PJ Harvey before.  I heard Let England Shake was pretty great, but I’ve simply never gotten around to listening to her somewhat impenetrable discography of what is now 9 albums.  Perhaps it’ll be interesting to review the work of such a prolific artist in a vacuum.  Perhaps I’ll stumble through blindly committing indie faux pas and outing myself as a fool.  Only time will tell.

The album starts extremely strongly, with “The Community of Hope”.  The guitar tones are both distorted and grungy, yet possess an uplifting ethereal dreaminess that is absolutely captivating the second it starts bouncing around my ear drums.  The lyrics are wryly observant of a deprived area, tinged with political dissent.  The vocals are intense, commanding and distinctly 90s.  The distortion is amped up on “The Ministry of Defence”, as are the political statements, with lines such as, “This is the ministry of defence, stairs and walls are all that’s left, mortar holes let through the air”.  The tone darkens as the album progresses through “A line in the Sand” and “Chain of Keys”. 

“River Anacostia” opens with soulful harmonising male voices before succumbing to tribal drum beats and Harvey’s absolutely chilling vocal passages.  I felt the quality dipped ever so slightly with “Near the Memorials to Vietnam and Lincoln” and “The Orange Monkey”, both songs being perhaps the most forgettable on the album.  It swiftly picks back up on the haunting “Medicinals”, and remains consistently spell-binding through more politically charged angst on “The Ministry of Social Affairs”.  “The Wheel” has an air of classic rock swagger to it, and is kitted out with a driving beat, brass section and fiery guitar solos. 

The final song “Dollar, Dollar” begins with a sample of a busy street that goes on for an aggravatingly long time, before sensuous organ tones float in and out of focus, while Harvey’s vocals pierce through the dreamy haze.  Experimental stabs of either Saxophones or Bassoons enter to complete the odd final songs instrumental. 

If, like me, this is your first time hearing PJ Harvey’s music, I struggle to imagine anything you could find to dislike.  Artfully crafted and genuinely inventive art-rock instrumentals peppered with incisive and intelligent lyrics backed up by commanding vocals.  I recommend you get this album on vinyl.

Charlie McCartney

Kendrick Lamar - untitled unmastered Review

Only a year on since his game changing magnum opus “To Pimp a Butterfly”, Kendrick Lamar has

returned with another “full length” “album”.  The quotation marks serve to impress upon the reader that this project is both brief in comparison to the hour long odyssey of “To Pimp a Butterfly”, and clearly made up of cuts that didn’t meet its incredibly high requirements.  The same themes are explored with the same seething anger and agile eloquent rhymes dancing over the hot jazz funk instrumental. 

“untitled unmastered” opens with the untitled and unmastered “untitled 01”.  The off kilter organ tones skirt around the sinister double bass notes and a sexualised sampled voice.  Admittedly this sample is somewhat thematically misleading, as when Kendrick enters, furious as ever, he isn’t rapping about anything that could in any way be considered sensual.  The motif behind “untitled 01” is based entirely around a scene of biblical reckoning, in which “The tallest buildings plummet, cracking and crumbling” and “The ground is shaking swallowing young women, with babies, daisies, and flowers burning in destruction”.  Kendrick then begins pointing fingers towards those responsible for this extermination, “No more discriminating the poor”.  As the instrumental begins to rupture like the earth in this biblical epoch, Kendrick begins to focus more on his own failures, over a gentle piano accompaniment.

“untitled 02” introduces the main leitmotiv that the album has to offer, this being the celebratory repetition of “Pimp, Pimp, Hooray!”.  It then delves into a deep, ominous jazz cacophony, reminiscent of the groove on “Mortal Man”, suggesting this track was considered as an alternative closer to “To Pimp a Butterfly”.  Lyrically Lamar continues in a religious direction, this time honing in on his own moral inequities and subsequent desperation.  “Stuck in the belly of the best, Can you please pray for me?”, is a line that wouldn’t have been out of place on the accusatory and inquisitive “Mortal Man”, another song about both Kendrick’s failures, and his relationship with those around him. 

The upbeat “untitled 03” incorporates the same emphatic harmonised vocals that supported “King Kunta”.  Despite this it feels more like an extension of the “Section 83” opener “Fuck Your Ethnicity”, as Kendrick dismantles racial and religious stereotypes with ease, as well as incorporating a level of understanding about the similarities each shares with the others.  “A peace of mind, that’s what the Asian said, I need a divine, intervention was his religion now it’s a prize, him believing in Buddha, me believing in God”.  The bouncy instrumental is effective in making “untitled 03” one of the more accessible songs on the album, and a welcome respite from the brilliant but draining gravity of previous tracks.

“untitled 04” sees Kendrick tackling the disenfranchisement of the youth in certain communities, dissatisfied with both themselves and the future that the world has laid out for them.  “They say the government mislead the youth, and that welfare ain’t well for you”.  Every opening line is preceded and punctuated by a sinister whispering voice, inciting immorality and disillusionment.  The line “The preacher man don’t always tell the truth” illuminates the first chink in Kendrick’s otherwise unshakeable faith, and provides the level of emotional and philosophical nuance that is a staple of his writing at this point.

The fast paced bass solo that opens “untitled 05” is at times antiphonal and unwelcoming, until the twinkling piano tones descend, accompanied by an ethereal female voice.  Juxtaposed to the overall beauty of the instrumental are lyrics that discuss violence, “Somebody said you bumped your head and bled the floor, jumped into a pit of flames and burned to coal”.  In a sudden switch of tone, the vocals proclaim, “That means the world to me”, instilling in the listener the idea that this song is thematically similar to Bruno Mar’s “Grenade”, but with stellar lyrics and intense self-awareness.

The highlight of the entire project is undoubtedly “untitled 06”, a piece of gorgeous pop that could easily have rivalled “i” as the stand out single of “To Pimp A Butterfly”.  It tackles all the same issues based around both self-esteem and personal failures, and stops just short of Kendrick proclaiming “I love myself”.  He instead asserts his own individuality, and obvious superiority to his peers, “You stick out like an alien to those around, that’s alright, I like it, you and me are the same.”       

The penultimate track reintroduces the triumphant, “Pimp pimp hooray” chant, a sort of victory chant from the man who is now without competition in his field.  The final track is another upbeat funk tune, that sees Kendrick once again in celebration mode.

If I were to quote every utterly inspired lyric on this album, discuss every exhilarating key change, instrumental fluctuation and detail, then this review would be infinitely longer than it already is.  Only Kendrick could release a set of rejected cuts from a year-old album and have it be the most honest, passionate and exciting hip hop record of the year.  I recommend listening to every song on this album, in minute detail, particularly if you’re a fan of “To Pimp a Butterfly”. 

Charlie McCartney

Troye Sivan - Blue Neighbourhood Review

With a career in theatre and film alongside titans such as Ian McKellen and John Cleese, and a consistently run Youtube channel forged in late 2012 - it’s hard to claim that Troye Sivan is inexperienced. This being said, singing as part of musicals and penning novelty songs to post on the internet are a long stretch from crafting a thoughtful, emotional and personal album; a creation that gives a rare glimpse into the soul of an artist often denied in popular music due to public demand centralising on catchy hooks and dancefloor beats.

The angel-faced Australian’s debut album was always bound to be picked up on the pop scene after the success of the pre-ceding EP ‘Wild’ which hit number 1 in his homeland while breaking top 5 in four other countries including the UK and US. The majority of the EP re-appears on the album and it appears in its entirety (along with other bonus tracks) on the deluxe edition. With the recycling of so much material the risk was run that the album wouldn’t be worth a standalone purchase, that it would have that ‘seen it all before’ cloud hanging over its head. However, Blue Neighbourhood brings to the table an array of musical accomplishments. It is as brutally personal as any I’ve heard – a theme raised in the EP and simply expanded on and deepened in the album - an album unafraid to venture off of the beaten track and experiment, as is the fundamental duty of any electronic or electropop based music.

First thing I need to highlight right off the bat is that ‘Cool’ is one of – if not ‘the’ – ‘shoulda been a single’s of 2015. It begins reminiscent of Troye’s ‘TRXYE’ EP of last year and matures into the more complex style he’s adopted as it moves into the full on danceable, sing-alongable chorus establishing it, in my eyes, as the flagship tune of ‘Blue Neighbourhood’. The memorable choruses appearing throughout this album across songs such as ‘Wild’, ‘Fools’, ‘Youth’ and ‘Heaven’ would normally be comfortably asserted as the ‘defining feature’ but this album has too many genuinely good parts. I struggle to pick a defining feature not as a negative observation but because it would be akin to asserting the Eiffel tower as the defining feature of Paris and simply skimming over the Louvre, the Arc de Triomphe, Notre Dame and Sacre Coeure without giving them the credence they so deserve.

After the songs we’ve already heard from ‘Wild’ the track list leads us through ‘Cool’, ‘Heaven’ and ‘Youth’, with ‘Heaven’ really bringing back the intense emotions we’ve already followed Troye through. This isn’t emotion as in generic break-up songs putrefying the charts. This is emotion as in a philosophical quandary weighing down the soul of someone who shouldn’t have to understand it never mind live it. Self-critique of the soul doesn’t usually scream ‘successful pop song’ but that’s the beauty of this album – everything screams successful. As is life, this album has a mixture of emotional focuses, next up is ‘Youth’. ‘Youth’ presents a hopeful attitude of the possibilities of giving yourself completely to another person, and does so to what would be a clichéd bubble-gum pop soundtrack if it wasn’t for the immaculate trademark that is the ‘sound in wave-motion’ that Troye has pioneered in songs such as this and ‘Fools’. The overlapping and crashing of different layers to a pop setting is a notable pillar of what holds this album up on its well-earned pedestal and refuses to even grace simplicity with a look in.

At this point I must admit most of my favourite tracks have past – we must have favourites. However, this doesn’t mean the remaining material is empty or derived. Far from it. Anthems like ‘Lost Boy’ with its high pitched synth gives the song an unexpected dance element. One that usually appears with a remix of a song that sacrifices other elements this track combines an effective hybrid of the two, one of the reasons I can see this album reaching high commercial success. Other songs like ‘Suburbia’ use more traditional methods of beefing out the track with strings in the background which while complimenting the light percussion and waves of piano in the foreground don’t take away from the style Troye is going for. It’s expertly produced to not let any instrumentation impose itself and simply let the entire effect carry you away as a whole.

The only things I can really pick at in this entire album is the odd clichéd lyric – which is more than repented for with lines such as ‘we make shades of purple out of red and blue’ and ‘All my time is wasted, feeling like my hearts mistaken’ – and the curiously similar vocalisations in the choruses of ‘Cool’ and ‘For him’. Other than that this album is an incredible progression in modern pop music and uses electronic elements to bring more emotion to the surface than most genres could hope to elicit from its audience.

Released in an infuriatingly short standard version and a deluxe version that doesn’t even make the hour mark, Blue Neighbourhood is ‘still’ a must buy album. The deluxe version includes all the tracks from the ‘Wild’ EP and even if you’ve already got that it’s still worth buying to experience the song ‘Blue’ in which co-writer and producer Alex Hope lends vocals just kind of rounding off the feeling that everyone involved in this album had the same goals and really worked to produce a flawless joint effort. If you want a run-down of some prominent tracks I omitted in this review have a read of my ‘Blue Neighborhood Trilogy’ review where I covered ‘Wild’ ‘Fools’ and ‘Talk me Down’ and then go buy this album or wait and get it on vinyl January 19^th.

Nathan Beck

Adele - 25 Review

If any artist was going to steal the limelight from the return of Justin Bieber, it had to be Adele.  No one else could inspire the same kind of obscene clamorous fervour that “Hello” has left the
Internet reeling from, as it broke all of the records known to man.  There hasn’t even been a sufficient replacement for Adele in the same way it could be argued there has been for Bieber.  Sam Smith was perhaps the best comparison and challenger for her throne, but his claim lies in tatters after the release of “25”, an absolute titan of modern pop.

The singles “Hello” and “While We Were Young” were already burned into the public consciousness, both intelligent and emotional insights into a past relationship.  Instrumentally it’s exactly what you’d expect from Adele, nothing short of flawless vocals and imposing, melancholy orchestral arrangements.  Subtle differences can be heard in the form of modern percussion patterns on the former.  “I Miss You” and “Remedy” fit this description also, and could be described as somewhat formulaic, with the latter actually being dangerously close to the kind of bland ballad the Script could turn out after the lazy ten minute brainstorm I imagine constitutes their song writing sessions. 

Deviation can be found on the oddly upbeat “Send My Love (To Your New Lover)”, which may be my highlight of the album.  The sleek acoustic guitar gives this song a more accessible edge and intrinsic groove that could benefit Adele’s music to no end.  The chorus bursts into life with and instantly memorable and catchy melody, making this song fairly distinct.  The maturity on display can be seen in the lyrics, “We both know we ain’t kids no more”.  It’s a theme that puts “25” at an instant advantage over the often self-pitying and stalker-like “21”.  The acoustic guitar is the main focus again on the stylish Mediterranean “Million Years Ago”, a song that shows that Adele writes better Bond themes than Sam Smith even when she’s not trying to.  The closing track “Sweetest Devotion” showcases Adele’s vocals in their purest form.  Often strained, but always astounding, the album finishes on a driving and uplifting piece of flawless soul, and truly cements Adele’s place as one of the great talents of the modern music scene, if it wasn’t already clear.

“25” dwarfs “21”, both in observant maturity and instrumental grandeur.  The singles are phenomenal, the deeper cuts are extremely interesting, and almost everything on this album is a testament to Adele’s new found sophistication and talent.  I recommend purchasing this album on CD.  It’s not like you can stream it anyway.

Charlie McCartney

Joanna Newsom - Divers Review

It has been 8 weeks since I reviewed Joanna Newsom's "Sapokanikan". The single, buzzing with delightfully cryptic lyrics and lavish instrumentation, won me over immediately and served as a savory aperitif to her first album in almost five years - Divers. Indeed, Newsom had kept herself far out the studio for longer than ever before following the release of Have One On Me.

Following up the huge success of Ys, a genre defining (or perhaps defying) critical smash, Have One On Me proved Newsom's ambitions stretched farther than ever anticipated. At 124 minutes it was her longest release by far, and her infatuation with simple polyrhythmic harmonies and stripped back production had been replaced with a flurry of fiercely elaborate melodies and a general desire to "sound big". The album incorporated world music with classic orchestral sounds while courting notions of Jazz and Blues, and pulled it off spectacularly. It soon became one of the standout albums of 2010, and after that? Nothing.

Albeit, this half-decade of artistic quiet was not wholly silent. Joanna tried her hand at acting, and various high profile performances and collaborations with both classical icons (Philip Glass) and indie darlings alike (Thao and the Get Down Stay Down) further whetted the music world's insatiable appetite for another album.

Now said album has arrived, and it is relieving to to say that Joanna's impeccable reputation remains untarnished.

Firstly, this is her most concise record to date - no two-hour runtime, no 17 minute-long ballads; rather a selection of 11 perfectly crafted songs each fine tuned to sound as tight as they possibly can. Therefore the high production values from Have One On Me Have returned, bringing with it the rich arrangements and overdubs which made it sound so expansive in the first place. A Spector-esque approach to production is used to combine multiple layers of instrumentals and tones to make a towering Wall of Sound. The first half of this album is particularly vibrant, and tracks like "Leaving the City" and the aforementioned "Sapokanikan" build to such cinematic heights in the closing moments that it becomes almost cathartic.

Jazz influences seep through the cracks once more in the form of complex guitar and drum sections, and the juxtaposition of these with the archaic folk sounds of fiddles and accordions bridges the gap between Joanna's contemporary style and her older, rootsier material. Her distinctive harp playing remains the centerpiece for most of the album though, and for good reason. Her skills as a harpist have been well documented since Milk-Eyed Mender, her very first foray into the musical world, but the level of expression that Joanna manages to convey each time she steps behind the instrument continues to impress and inspire. At a certain point in listening it becomes more than just a musical tool; it becomes a conduit of every feeling, thought and emotion Joanna possesses; serving as a sharp looking glass into both her artistic and real life personalities.

There is more here than just impressive musicianship, however. Lyrical and thematic elements play just as integral a part in the makeup of this album as any other, and this is [or at least appears to be] a highly conceptual album. A principle theme throughout is the concept of time, or rather the ever fluctuating perception of time regarding where we are in our lives, who we are with, and what we are experiencing at that point. Joanna explores these concepts by throwing out any notion of chronology and instead using each song to delve into a specific topic or thought, ultimately playing out like a collection of small vignettes - each telling of a different story or memory. The opening song, "Anecdotes" actually sums up this theme perfectly.

By a single play-through of the record you have already spanned centuries and travelled through various settings and time periods: at one moment you are witnessing the genesis of New York at the hands of the "Dutch Masters", the next you are mourning a lover lost to some futuristic civil war. I haven't the words to describe the sheer enormity of this album, or the true message of everything found within it it, though it is very clear that Joanna has a lot to say and a lot to ponder. It eventually comes clear that, despite the seemingly unrelated nature of the songs, the overarching themes of time and space remain firmly attached to each track. With every song you are merely turning the page in a very old and very long scrapbook full snapshots and pictures of seemingly disparate and isolated memories which end up coming together as a document of life itself.

And if you aren't impressed by that then I don't think I can say much more.

With Divers Joanna Newsom seems to have found a perfect equilibrium between the romantic mysticism of her early work with the frenetic energy of Have One On Me. Add to this the dense, beautiful lyrics and intriguing subject matter and you have one of my favourite albums of the year. Check it out.

Jack McGlone

James Parenti - Don't Be Gone Long, Ellen Album Review

The world of dark, inward looking indie folk is one which is graciously reaching its popular and musical peak in this decade and the end of the last. For better (Bon Iver, Sufjan Stevens) or worse (The Lumineers, Passenger) the rise is both interesting and obvious. Its genius is in its simplicity, a lack of instrumentation lets other parts of the music take centre stage, namely vocals and lyricism.

James Parenti, admittedly adds little to this formula but in all honesty anything that would bring significant change to this formula would see this shift away from the genre that Parenti seems so comfortable and adept at.

On this record “Don’t Be Gone Long, Ellen” it would be a lie to say that Parenti isn’t as skilled, melodic and haunting as any of the masters of the genre.

The first thing to note from this record is that it is bitterly, devastatingly miserable, and that is ok. His emotion comes off as real and he has a belief in his lyrics and in what he is saying. The themes of love through the troubles of mental illness are a rarely explored vessel for, at times, deeply affecting music.

“Cave in Burn Down” is one of the most challenging, troubling songs on the record, its accessibility masking the soul crushing lyricism and I would struggle to imagine anyone being at least somewhat affected by this.

Although some of the lyrics I feel could be a bit more nuanced throughout the record they convey the message just as strong and effective. “Sleepwalker” is a prime example of this. Throughout the record although heavy handed at points the songs create a distinct aura that is undeniable. It feels like Parenti may be best appreciated in a live setting where you can really connect to him.

My highlights of the record would likely be “Back to Sleep” and “Lucky Star.” They affect the 

most with the almost childlike appearance of “Back to Sleep” and the musically visible descent in “Lucky Star” ending the record leading to a both hopeful, beautiful and in the end realistic conclusion on the realities of the situations and events in this record which convey a tragic yet magnificent narrative.

For fans of sadder works in the indie folk genre like some of Bon Iver and Elliot Smith’s releases I would certainly recommend James Parenti’s “Don’t Be Gone Long, Ellen.” It is certainly a difficult listen that may require a lot of contemplation but this may be worth it to appreciate everything that James has to say on this record.

Dominic Allan

Get this album on Bandcamp here : http://jamesparenti.bandcamp.com/

E.W Harris - Re-Entry Review

Oh God, not another white-guy-with-acoustic-guitar act.  I bet he raps too doesn’t he.  What’s that?  Every song is a complex and absurdist insight into the human experience told from the perspective of perfectly constructed metaphors based around sci-fi and horror?  Oh…

 E.W Harris is utterly unique in the folk genre, not as a result of the electronic tinges his music takes on, but because of the bizarre subject material of the stories being told.  I generally garner my enjoyment of music from a unique melodic feature, or an interesting instrument thrown into the mix,

but the craftsmanship shown in Harris’ lyrics is the best part of this album.  It’s a tour-de-force in blending personal struggle with outlandish metaphorical observations.

On the title track “Re-entry”, Harris likens himself to an astronaut entering a world he doesn’t recognise, “The world is strange on the surface, and I am changed on the surface” he sings, before going on to vividly paint a vision of this alien planet, “Violet Oceans in violent motions, they swirl and crash to breach an afterimage sky”.  “Panopticon” opts for a more haunting instrumental, with a driving, almost tribal beat, and what I’m almost certain are steel drums in places.  “Phonies” is a starker affair, with Harris’ impressive vocals being at the forefront.  The theme here seems to be more religious, with lyrics such as, “All those who know, never can tell, who goes to heaven and who goes to hell”.  “Ether” is the catchiest song on the album.

The highlight of the album for me is the longest song in the setlist, “Los Vampiros”.  If the chilling violin tremolos didn’t make it a perfect candidate for the soundtrack of a Hitchcock-esque horror film, then the tormented lyrics certainly do.  “I’ll wander around some dusty back roads, round up some freaks and start my own show” being just a short extract from a song as poetically theatrical as anything I’ve heard all year.  The effort thrown into this song is so clear, from not only its length, but from its dedication to its noir tone.  By the time the final croaked words die away, I’m convinced that this album challenges Father John Misty for my folk album of the year.

As I’m sure you’ve deduced, I enjoyed this album a great deal.  Few albums are as expansive in their emotional range, lyrical creativity or tonal consistency.  I recommend that you listen to this album and buy it in whichever formats are available.

Charlie McCartney   

Deafheaven - New Bermuda Review

From the moment it starts “New Bermuda” is as dramatic and dark an album as Deaf Heaven have ever created.  While it may only be five songs long, the length of these songs makes the album an impenetrable monolith, even in its brighter moments.

 The opening song “Brought to the Water” begins with the mesmeric ringing of wedding bells and a distorted electronic bass simmering away underneath it, before it’s all engulfed by the wall of sound the guitars produce.  George Clarke’s animalistic vocals fight for supremacy as the guitars rattle and shudder with syncopated energy.  The song seamlessly shifts tone when the shoegaze elements manage to briefly establish themselves in absolutely beautiful passages of melodic tranquillity.  Deaf Heaven have been praised for their ability to fuse these two genres together, and it’s never been more evident that this praise has been absolutely warranted.  By the time the song fades into the piano outro the album is already as gripping as “Sunbathers”.

The majestic soaring guitars on “Luna” make it one of the most breath-taking songs on the album, and while it may be the longest song, it comes and goes too quickly for the listener to possibly uncover all its complexities in one listen.  One of the main strengths of this song is the intricacy of the drums, which allow the song to somehow seem intensely syncopated and utterly synchronised all at once, a technique that I don’t think has been utilised as effectively before.  In a brief, lucid moment in which only the guitar plays, I’m almost reminded of Godspeed You! Black Emperor, before the thundering cacophony returns.  In it’s final dying moments, “Luna” is as personal, impassioned and grandiose as any other song on the album. 

“Baby Blue” seems a rather placid title for a band like Deaf Heaven, and admittedly seems to be a far more straightforward song from the first few minutes.  It embraces more fully the reverb and simplicity of shoegaze, and as a result acts as something as a respite from the crushing depth of the rest of the album.  The layered guitars become gradually more hypnotic and soothing, as the song progresses, even once the intense, crushing guitars and vocals return.  The song is somewhat marred in terms of subtlety by the fairly vulgar tapping of the lead guitar.  But that is brief and forgettable once the rumbling guitars integrate in a threatening assault that eventually fades out as the song transitions into a sample of a woman talking, complimented in the instrumental by ambient synths. 

The understated guitars of “Baby Blue” seem to return in “Come Back”.  That is until the band begin an onslaught on the listener’s senses with a sudden, fast paced barrage of guitar volleys, immediately instilling a sense of immersive dread.  There is small respite later in the song as it returns to the peaceful guitar tones of the beginning for the second half of the song, even incorporating some acoustic guitar.  The fast paced clean guitars of the closing song “Gifts for the Earth” seems alien to the howling screech of the vocals, but this is quickly resolved when the guitars return to the distorted intensity of previous tracks.  By the time the acoustic guitars and piano lead the final serenade, I feel as affected as I have following very few albums this year. 

I can’t remember the last time a metal album left me feeling this drained, beaten and impressed.  For a five song album to be such a bone-crushing, awe-inspiring behemoth is absolutely incredible, and I can’t recommend this album highly enough.  Buy it on vinyl. 

Charlie McCartney  

   

 

Kurt Vile - b'lieve I'm goin down... Review

In the world of music marketed towards social introverts, Kurt Vile is a beacon of self-awareness and ingenuity.  Lyrically he weaves unusually long winded tapestries, wandering in and out of coherence but never once breaking flow or character, and always extraordinary, as exemplified on the opening track of his stellar 2013 album “Wakin’ on a Pretty Daze”, “Wakin’ on a Pretty Day”, a nine minute odyssey through country, dream pop and folk, that remained transfixing from start to finish. 

While none of the songs on “b’lieve I’m goin down…” reach such lengths, they capture everything that made “Wakin’ on a Pretty Day” fantastic, that being trippy stoner jams accented by Vile’s sharp acoustic guitar finger picking.  “Pretty Pimpin’” opens the album with succinct guitar tones layered over one another, and a driving beat backing up Vile’s usual meandering lyrical landscapes, in which he tackles identity in a confident and often humorous way. 

On “I’m an Outlaw” Vile assumes the personality of a charismatic cowboy, and leads the listener through a four minute desert rock voyage, with banjos taking the reins at the forefront of the instrumental part.  Electric organ provides a twist on the usual formula on a number of songs on this album, but on none is it more prevalent than “Dust Bunnies”, another sleazy pilgrimage into the verdant psyche of the observant stoner.  Vile channels Nick Drake’s intricate acoustic guitar work on the stripped down folky “That’s life, tho (almost hate to say)” as well as “All in a Daze Work” and the haunting “Stand inside”, the only difference being his rich baritone.  He returns to the more ambient aspects of “Smoke Ring for My Halo” on the sombre “Wheelhouse”, tackling religion and belief. 

The tone stays consistent proceeding into “Life Like This”, with a piano providing the basis for the songs instrumental, and the transcendent harmonising electric guitar lines hovering often out of range above it.   The piano returns for the catchy “Lost my head there”, on which Vile laments a recent comedown with the lyrics, “I don’t wanna sit around, walk around all day, I’d much rather levitate”.  However the whimsical waltz time piano of the instrumental “Bad Omens” is without a doubt the highlight of the album for me, with the otherworldly distortion of the guitars floating in a mesmeric haze in the clouds above somehow able to convey more emotion than Viles great lyrics. 

As someone who considers “Wakin’ on a Pretty Daze” to be one of the best albums of 2013, it stuns me to say that Vile has surpassed himself here, proving himself to be at the forefront of indie folk and introspective music in general, and creating an album that is not only worth buying on vinyl, but a contender for my album of the year.     

Charlie McCartney  

Petite Noir - La Vie Est Belle - Life is Beautiful Review

South African music is one which exists in an odd intermediate zone between African and European influences with a lot of mixing between cultures that could leave us with a very distinct, unique style. Despite this very little South African music has been seen to break into the mainstream western music scene with the only real example being the highly controversial “Die Antwoord”. Some see Die Antwoord as an unfavourable aspect of the South African music scene and Petite Noir will likely be seen as a bastion for the more positive side of this nation’s music. His music exists almost exactly in the zone between European and African music with many styles of music from both continents proudly displayed.

A common trait for European musicians has been the implementation of African music in their works with groups like Blur and Vampire Weekend being among those to redistribute African music and culture into their mostly indie rock music. It’s refreshing now however to see the reverse at play with Yannick Ilunga incorporating large amounts of 2000s indie rock into this album alongside the ever present powerful drums and soulfulness of the African music.

The album itself is a true delight, a sensory feast with every song feeling like the lead single on its own album of sounds like itself. It is genuinely difficult to pick parts of this album that could be considered significantly better than the rest but it is hard not to mention the tight, exceptional drums that are ever present on this album and most important to talk about being the vocals. I have quite simply never seen the range and diversity possessed by Yannick Ilunga on any other male vocalist. His vocals are immaculate with the incredible difference shown throughout this album leading the less inquisitive of listener to have to conclude that certain songs and even certain sections of songs have multiple vocalists at work. It is a sound that would be near impossible to replicate.

The album itself eases into gear with its first track being the mostly instrumental “Intro Noirwave” and from the very beginning it is clear that there is something special at work here. The drums have a great build with the scattered disjointed backing vocals matched perfectly with the soaring howls of Ilunga that sets the listener up for the main single from the record from the album “Best.”

“Best” is best described as an emulation of the alternative rock sound created by people like Franz Ferdinand and Bloc Party that was never achieved by them or by their successors. It is both highly intelligent yet still retains that dance-ability that is hard to acquire. The song feels like it comes and goes in a moment despite its 4 minute length with the brass and synths adding a layer of real beauty and triumphantness to this song.

The album continues on this high form that it never leaves with Freedom, Ilunga’s vocals yet again sour over the sound created by the drums and twitchy guitars. Following on after this is one of the standout songs  “Seventeen(Stay).” This is the most indie rock of all the songs on this record and is on par with anything ever released in the genre. It is on one simple album track the sound Interpol have been trying to emulate for over a decade. The song has an air of effortlessness with Petite Noir pulling out sounds and vocals for fun that people have been starved for in the indie rock scene for years.

The rap stylings of Congolese rapper Baloji add another level of depth to the record in “La Vie est Belle” and following on from this “MDR” and “Colour” add very simplistic, anthemic elements to this record with their minimalism drawing focus to each songs repeated slogans that are infectious and stick right in your head.

The final song on the record “Chess” feels like the final statement of this record and although the song was present already on this years earlier EP “The King of Anxiety” it finds its true home as the conclusion to this album. Everything present on this record, Ilunga’s vocals, the percussion and the guitars (which at times are both jittery and also delightfully encompassing) are all at their highest levels of excellence in this song. This is also the lyrical highlight of this record. As the song and in turn the record builds to its conclusion there is a real sense of something new in the air with these South African maestros leaving you despairing for more.

One criticism would perhaps be the lyrics in general on this record, there are some excellent lines but overall it lacks a small something in comparison to the rest of the album’s brilliance. However with Ilunga’s vocals he could probably sing the phonebook and be captivating.

At 50 minutes this is by no means a short record but it is so easily listenable you could find yourself listening to it two and three times in one session without once becoming tired,with every listen you discover some other piece of excellent instrumentation to ponder over and as the drums fade out in “Chess” the urge to hit replay or head back to side 1 of the LP becomes stronger. It very much feels like the epitome of the music created in the first decade of the 21st century with many influences lying there and with the more obvious African drums and stylings, Petite Noir are deeply exciting, almost inspiring and I really hope that they can return even stronger next time.

Get this album. Get it on vinyl. Listen to it on repeat for weeks and in decades to come brag that you were one of the first to discover the mastery that is Petite Noir.