Quebec’s Blessed By A Broken Heart are the inevitable Frankenstein’s Monster created by alternative metal’s flirtations with the ’80s: each time the likes of Soundgarden, Therapy? or FFAF integrated metal cliches in their music with a nudge and a wink, it became more inevitable that someone eventually wouldn’t get the joke. Enter Blessed By A Broken Heart, representing a blurring of the boundaries to such an extent that it’s impossible to tell whether they want to be Atreyu or Europe – or both. ‘Shut Up And Rock’ sets out it’s stall unapologetically: screamo meets the Sunset Strip, whilst ‘Love Nightmare’ presents a mash-up of 36 Crazyfists and Def Leppard. Seriously. ‘I’ve Got You’ is an upbeat ballad swathed in keyboard washes straight from the Van Halen playbook. Predictably, guitar solos are front-and-centre, and usually too long to boot. It’s a ridiculous album, but not without a goofy charm if you’ve a predisposition for hair metal or tracks with names like ‘Rockin’ All Night’, or lyrics about folk who “wear their hearts on cut-off sleeves”. BBABH come across as genuine, and whilst it’s hard not to raise a smile whilst listening, it’ll be a very particular demographic that spins this more than once.
After a frenzied wave of of press hyperbole swirling around Lana Del Rey for the last six months, her placatory breathy vocals and 60s Nancy Sinatra chic rags-to-riches story was compelling for a while – now maybe a little sickly, yet still she devours all in her wake. The major label predictably intervened, LDR gave that innocent flick of her eye lashes and she’s the next major label contender. The debut album, well, will polarize opinion; ‘Off To The Races’ brims with off kilter trip-hop, the remastered album version of ‘Video Games’ may not be the best but amid the sea of remixes it still packs a hefty punch and ‘Blue Jeans’ struts its pop sensibilities brashly. In reality, ‘Born To Die’ doesn’t deliver that “classic” album that was anticipated off the back of the aforementioned ‘Video Games’ and the album’s title track but it doesn’t lack feminine punch – that viewpoint rests heavy, in terms of the album’s narrative – it just doesn’t suitably reach out to everyone. It’s kind of awkward but beguiling all at the same time.
Having started life in 1999 as an offshoot of Okkervil River, Shearwater has grown into something much bigger. The tipping point came four years ago when Jonathan Meiburg, the band’s helmsman, left Okkervil River to concentrate on his side project – thus making it clear that Shearwater was no longer a mere side project. His band has burgeoned even more since then and, with Animal Joy, Meiburg is starting to sound as though he has ambitions to fill stadia. That’s a double edged sword, however: there is a greater energy and far more brunt to Shearwater’s sound, but the more intimate tenderness of their previous work is a casualty of this. The six-minute centrepiece ‘Insolence’ is not as broodingly moody as it thinks it is, and just feels rather empty. ‘Pushing The River’, with its rapid fire drumming and its intimations of panic, verges on the territory of The Walkmen: no bad thing by any means. But the new incarnation of Shearwater truly finds its niche with ‘Animal Life’, and ‘You As You Were’, which both successfully combine real beauty with a sense of drama and pace to create what might be the blueprint for a far more mature sound.
It’s only a year since Tennis released their nautically inspired debut album Cape Dory, but its follow up is already here. Young And Old sticks to the same breezy pop template, but crucially, Tennis have developed their sound subtly yet successfully in a relatively short space of time. There are punchier songs here, with fewer longueurs, and Alaina Moore’s vocal range and the band’s songwriting template have both broadened. The more acute groove of the piano driven ‘Petition’ serves as a nice interlude from the swirling guitars, while ‘Robin’ has something of a Motown feel with its sultry organ and soaring melody. Despite the easy going vibe, it’s not all sweetness and light. The further through the album you listen, the more maudlin the lyrics become. ‘Paradise is all around, but happiness is never found,’ Moore sings on ‘High Road’; by the penultimate track, ‘Take Me To Heaven’, she’s affirming that ‘So far as I can see, there’s nothing left for me.’ But in spite of the bleakness, these are both top notch songs. Tennis seem to be presenting themselves as lost souls drifting numbly through the kind of wonderful world imagined by Louis Armstrong, and they drift very well indeed.
A lot about the nature of Dylan Baldi’s third album as Cloud Nothings can be gleaned from its austere artwork and uncompromising song titles. Both of these things act as a nice introduction to the music contained within – it doesn’t understand the concept of holding back. ‘Attack On Memory’ is visceral and intense, so much so that its length of 34 minutes sounds perfect by the time it’s done. Opener ‘No Future, No Past’ literally builds from a whisper to a scream, encapsulating the spirit of the record in less than five minutes. Baldi’s vocals are passionate and keenly felt, his self-lacerating angst on songs such as ‘Wasted Days’ and ‘Stay Useless’ only adding to the intensity of the album as a whole. The music is varied enough to reward repeated listens, too – having the album’s second track near nine minutes in length just screams, “ambition!” – and it is all quite accessible. There is a lot to love about ‘Attack on Memory’, even if it seems stark and forbidding from the outset, and Baldi’s hook-writing ability – hasn’t diminished in the slightest. Cloud Nothings’s style of music has undergone a radical shift, and the result is consistently thrilling.
On first inspection the debut self-titled record from Brooklyn based duo Blondes (Sam Haar and Zach Steinman for interested parties) is an impressive slice of smooth, psychedelic, deep house. The duo’s fusion of synths, sequencers and drum machines result in an effortless and polished eight track debut. But give this record that little bit more time and it will take on a life of it’s own; hypnotic, captivating and utterly mesmerising. The album takes tracks from three previously released 12”s and a couple of new songs, structuring them in opposing fashion ‘Lover’/'Hater’, ‘Business’/'Pleasure’, ‘Water’/'Wine’, and ‘Gold’/'Amber’. Take what you will from how it’s been complied, on occasions there is a more restrained feel to the “b-sides”, but forget about the duality of the construction. It’s a fascinating idea but the record works best when listened from start to finish, completely uninterrupted. Rarely has an electronic record sounded so organic and natural.. It takes twists and turns, one minute utterly euphoric the next melodic and laid back. There is also a second disc of remixes and while not as essential as disc one there are some intriguing takes on the album tracks from Teengirl Fantasy and Optimo’s JD Twitch to name but two. Blondes have crafted a stunning debut, a record to completely lose and immerse yourself in. Be patient and Blondes will take over your life.
Thomas Truax’s penchant for inventing peculiar mechanical instruments, such as a bastardised gramophone horn called the ‘Hornicator’, and ‘Mary Poppins’, whose components include spoons and a motorcycle headlight, have played no small part in the fact that he’s regarded as a steampunk musician. But while this is something that immediately comes across when you can see his creations, it’s much more difficult to pin down a steampunk sound. Maybe Truax is hoping to distract listeners from attempting to do so by imposing the conceit of Monthly Journal: its twelve songs were written and recorded at the rate of one a month throughout 2011. Consequently they combine personal feelings with reflections on globally significant events. As the year advances he seems to get into the swing of the project: early on, the line ‘It’s only January, and maybe things are really just beginning’, is a bit heavy handed, but subtler tracks like ‘Free As Fireflies In May’ work well. Finally, ‘Family & Friends’ manages the rare trick of acting as a Christmas song that can be enjoyed all year round. As might be expected of a record that has had such an unusual gestation, Monthly Journal is uneven, but there is charm in its eccentricity.
According to so many music critics, the guitar band is dead, yet nobody seems to be doing anything about it. Of course the guitar band isn’t dead and won’t be for some time, but one man taking action nonetheless is Dustin Wong. His previous projects, ‘Ecstatic Sunshine’ and ‘Ponytail’, have never been orthodox, but it is on his own that he becomes his most creative, latest effort ‘Dreams Say, View, Create, Shadow Leads’ a substantial departure from previous album ‘Infinite Love.’ Using a whole host of guitar pedals and effects, Dustin builds his album from the ground up, each looping note shown off alone before being moulded, bent and blended into a layer cake of sound, with post-rock allusions and electronic vibes emitted in equal measure. He deliberately allows space for the listener’s own impressions – track titles such as ‘Purple Slipped Right’ and ‘Diagonally Talking Echo’ leave plenty to the imagination – and whilst such stubborn experimentation is an acquired taste, there is enough variety to distract the mind and become lost in the dreamscape. An intelligent and above all interesting creation.
