BerenReid Tags: Alistair Blackwood, Departure EP, Faults Of A Realist, Mirrors, Motion Picture Soundtrack
Motion Picture Soundtrack’s debut EP ‘Departure’ is as ominous as The Editors and as melodic as Coldplay, combining similarly bittersweet lyrics and passionate vocal delivery that one expects from Chris Martin. However, unlike the latter none of the three tracks make much of an impact. Pretty piano breakdowns and eerie, rarely captivating tunes are all very well but the result is rather standard. Though at points the band manages to intrigue, ‘Faults Of A Realist’ and ‘Mirrors’ in particular tend to drag. Singer Alistair Blackwood’s voice is competent yet ultimately forgettable, and generally the song titles are more interesting than the tracks themselves. For an EP from an emerging band it would have made sense for them to have done it the other way around.
The Dub Pistols, a dub music and big beat band from London, have been an underground act since 1996. Taking a stab at the mainstream, they’ve recruited Lindy Layton, (of Beats International fame), and Rodney P to help boost their profile. Rodney P’s pointless rap middle 8 gives the song an odd sound of that of a demo, but thankfully his slot is short. The bulk of the track is given over to Lindy Layton, whose pretty, summery voice is so mesmeric you don’t notice at first that the song is mainly a repetition of one verse and the chorus. A pleasingly funky yet noticeably basic backing track makes ‘I’m In Love’ throwaway R’n’B at its best.
Whilst Kelly Clarkson’s American Idol star fades Jordin Sparks’ seems to be rising. Though she is yet to score a solo top 10 hit here, her singles sell consistently and her second album ‘Battlefield’ is a solid mix of R’n’B, dance and straight-up pop. The lead single and title track is a storm of a song and it’s no surprise; diva songsmith Ryan Tedder has a co-credit here. However, ‘Battlefield’ is far from being the only highlight. The independent, powerful stride of ‘Walking On Snow’ provides the perfect rebuke to an ex-lover with the pivotal line – “When you gonna get it? I’m so unaffected” Elsewhere, the Shannon-sampling ‘S.O.S. (Let The Music Play)’ sounds like a smash in the first few seconds of the computerised “eh-eh-eh-eh-s-o-s” intro and is suitably the album’s second single. Darker moments include ‘Emergency (911)’, an intriguing song to say the least, with amusing references to shaved legs and new hairdos. Though there are no absolute misfires, slow ballads like ‘Was I The Only One’ and ‘Faith Take Sparks’ into Mariah Carey territory. Despite this, and the fact she only wrote four of the twelve new tracks, Jordin Sparks gives a convincing performance on every song. On the uptempo numbers, you can tell she is rather enjoying herself – a refreshing thing in the world of pop puppets. Sparks’ honest, emotive delivery blasts her UK contemporaries Leona Lewis and Alexandra Burke straight out of the water, and with such a catchy, sassy and most importantly classy set, Jordin Sparks’ sophomore effort is, for the most part, wonderfully fresh.
‘Impossible’, the third single from Daniel Merriweather’s debut album ‘Love & War’, sees him return to ‘Stop Me’ territory on a track produced by, you’ve guessed it, Mark “If It Ain’t Broke Don’t Fix It” Ronson. It’s a shame that a song sung so passionately by Merriweather is dragged down by a pop-by-numbers backing track, but that said the song is a lot more infectious than his previous offerings. Unfortunately, though ‘Impossible’ may at first seem like a rather catchy number, after having the chorus in your head for three days in a row you will probably end up despising it.
With echoes of David Gray, Andrew Morris’ five track EP ‘Longview’, featuring single release ‘Miss You in the Night’, is a radio-friendly and largely inoffensive affair. Technically pleasant enough, ‘Miss You In The Night’ has some gentle piano, straightforward acoustic guitar and a solid chorus that could provide an afternoon festival crowd sing-along, but put simply, this collection of tracks is just not fresh or inventive music. Lyrically, the five tracks are peppered with clichéd lines such as; “it’s like a journey – no destination” and “It still feels like the first time”. Well it sure doesn’t sound like the first time and with wishy-washy melodies that don’t really seem to go anywhere; this seems like easy listening for James Blunt fans. As Andrew Morris is a practicing criminal lawyer, perhaps I should refrain from saying that this single, in my opinion, is beige Michael Bolton ass-chowder.
It’s so rare for dance songs to have lyrical depth that ‘It’s Not My Problem’ comes as quite a surprise. The Thin White Duke remix refreshingly manages not to drown singer Connie Mitchell’s vocals, instead providing a breezy backdrop to her sophisticated delivery, as she dismisses her lover with the line – “Cat gone and got your tongue, I’m sticking it out”. Laidback enough to not be irritating, but catchy enough to be memorable, Sneaky Sound System show other dance outfits like Cascada and Basshunter just how it’s done. A perfect song for the summer that will probably go mostly unnoticed, ‘It’s Not My Problem’ will be a delight for those who like their dance music to cover more ground than clubs, drinks and Red One.
Before you ask, yes, it is a cover of Duffy’s #1 smash of last year and yes, it is a little too soon. The hype is that this is what “Mark Ronson would have done and what Duffy should have done” with the track – yet, had this been the case we would have had an ironically soulless soul tune as one of last year’s biggest-selling singles. For, despite the fact that The Third Degree replicates the brass-heavy style of the 1960’s with relative panache, they fall short by having a man singing the lead, and it’s almost wince-worthy as he sings the line “but you gotta understand that I need a woman to take my hand.” The track also lacks the depth of the first version, as, for instance, where Duffy had spectral whispers in the breakdown; here we get a plain old instrumental and a slower version of the chorus. The repetitive beat and lack of freshness confirms that this well-meaning cover will always be in the shadow of the far superior original.
Something that Lucky Elephant, (the Anglo-French four-piece based in London), clearly don’t understand is that an album’s opener ought to be the best song or at least a sign for even better tracks to come later on in the album. Unfortunately, they open their debut ‘Star Sign Trampoline’ with an irritatingly jaunty instrumental piece, Lucky Elephant, that wouldn’t sound out of place as the backing for a medicine advert or CBBC show. However, things pick up with track two ‘Edgar’ which continues the jaunty vibe but with a more credible, summery riff. It’s a prime example of a possibly great tune given to the wrong singer – frontman Emanuel Lebascat’s heavy French accent sounds terribly awkward, and from here on in it becomes clear that the album would have sounded much better had he sung in his mother tongue. Lyrics are often indecipherable anyhow, and by halfway through it’s impossible not to have the urge to switch off. Tracks such as ‘The Pier‘(with its haunting line – “If you lose, don’t lose… the lesson”), are sung with undeniable passion, but it doesn’t help that most of their lyrics are so rambling that the album plays like a snapshot of Lebascat’s stream of consciousness; saying so much but meaning so very little. With such a focus on social commentary on tracks like ‘Modern Life’, ‘Changing People’ and sprightly tunes to match, comparisons to the Kaiser Chiefs is inevitable. Unfortunately they come without the wit or mischievousness of Ricky Wilson, and at times the songs, though often warm and welcoming, seem plodding and without aim. With hints of Interpol on Red Ties Vs. The Bees, it’s clear that the band are serious about their music, but with lines such as “I thought I’d eat my own thumb from the high ceiling” from ‘Edgar’, it’s difficult to take them completely seriously.
With a title that’ll probably get balding middle-aged rockers’ remaining hair standing on end, before they console themselves that it surely isn’t a cover of the classic Motorhead anthem, Jyl Millard’s bold debut is winking at you before you’ve even put the CD on. With a seductive, Bond-film-esque rhythm, it could not be further from the original, and probably will trick the most die-hard Motorhead fan into a false sense of security. Though Jyl’s vocals perfectly match the music’s tone, they also sound as though they’re coming through a crackly radio at times. That aside, ‘Ace Of Spades’ ought to be snapped up by a film director for his closing scene, as this is the kind of song that leaves a lasting impression.
