We’re pleased to announce that until Wednesday 2nd December you can download brand new Futureheads track ‘Struck Dumb’ for free exclusively from clashmusic.com or myspace.com/thefutureheads. This track is the first taster from their forthcoming new album.

We can also announce that the band will be playing a tiny Christmas show on December 14th at The Lexington, Pentonville Road, London. Tickets to the show, priced £10, will go on sale at 10am on Thursday 26th November to everyone signed up to the band’s database, and on general sale to the public at 10am on Friday 27th November.

After December 2nd the track will only be available for purchase via itunes so make sure you don’t miss out on this one week free exclusive.

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With a name like The Gay Blades, you wouldn’t imagine they hail from masculinity HQ, New Jersey – the base for Mobsters, strip clubs, steel mills and a constant supply of Bruce Springsteen. At first instance frontman Clark Westfield, backed up by drummer Puppy Mills, sound like any generic MTV friendly pop-metal test-tube experiments. But a minute in and it’s clear that these persons are a cut above the average. It’s lucky the band aren’t Mexican, the chorus is so catchy it’s contagious. And to call it watered down Enter Shikari wouldn’t be an insult. The Gay Blades have metal on their résumé. Ok, it might not be as raw but in it’s own way it’s looser with vocals feeling less restricted to falling behind instruments in pecking order. Ultimately It’s camp rock without the Jonas Brothers, and it’s great.

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Having just played this year’s Download Festival – the exhibition-hub of pure rock – the five guys who make up metal outfit None The Less know they’re doing something right. Fronted by Anthony Giannacini, it’s easy to see why his band has treaded a major festival’s boards, as confidence is bellowed throughout the seven-track CD. ‘The Payout’ resonates as if it were recorded in a cave, similar to the closing of ‘Define’ as it shifts into lighter vocals with an acoustic touch, but still keeping backing guitarist Owen Harvey’s howling. Both these tracks succeed in making the most of their axe-men, rather than thrash notes away, there’s some neat chords struck here. ‘The World Resting On Me’ is short, shouty and a stands out with lead guitar so high it sounds like SFX from an old Atari arcade-game as it battles against Giannacini for recognition. Other tracks suffer from lack of individuality, showing no real varied tone. ‘Four Fours’ declares “nothing is amazing”, unfortunately neither are the lyrics – most are slightly stunted by third-person-end-of-the-world cliché, devoid of any real human characteristic. Despite prosaic expression, the songs are performed well, like a fairly heavier Lost Prophets, and there is talent here, despite a damning rant towards the end of this review.

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Lisa Hannigan has a voice you might recognise thanks to her exploits on Damien Rice’s masterful albums ‘O’ and ‘9’. You may even hold the Irish singer in high regard thanks to the short but powerfully sweet contributions she made to Rice’s records, particularly ‘Unplayed Piano’. But now she’s moved in her own direction with debut album ‘Sea Strew’ with this the first release. Comparisons with Hannigan’s previous work don’t seem relevant; her new song is bubblier than she’s known for. That’s not to say it’s handclappingly joyful, but because the song is performed at mid-tempo with a bit of high-string twanging here and a trumpet there, it’s side-smiling cool. Hannigan’s known for a kooky persona when not performing and here in the world of music she’s equally quirky through prying lyrics. In the song she poses questions to an imaginary other about bruised hearts, books and all scatters of culture, culminating in what sounds like a musical version of any idiosyncratic young girl portrayed in recent American indie films, like a blasé but unmistakably confident type from Juno or Nick & Norah’s Infinite Playlist. Perhaps the most impressive feature of her first solo effort is that it wouldn’t sound out of place on any of those soundtracks.

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Having played last year’s Glastonbury at the request of Emily Eavis, Swimming have every right to feel positive when releasing their debut album. ‘Panthalass’ is a confident mash-up of post-modern sound, an imagined neon haze of electronic beats and melodramatic rock. While ‘Ease Down the River’, is equally notable. It’s echoed, almost Buddhist in beat with pastoral hymns that cut in two near the finish to give way to more electronic blare, puts it closer to the score from Bladerunner. Unfortunately the majority of tracks, like ‘Crash The Current’, have no catchy riffs or stick-in-your-head lyric and get lost in a musical tangents. They throw themselves in the deep-end of experimental music and it’s easy to spot Swimming’s influences (The Pixies, The Doors, Pink Floyd), but despite two good tracks, the band get too caught up in trying to sound edgy, that they sound more like an experimental Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, with too many different techniques employed here.

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Okay, so the indie collectives first track ‘Astronaut Swapshop’ must be quirky, but no artists write a song about outer space and take it seriously, excluding Bowie of course. This is punchy, peculiar full of amiable lyrics. It’s only in ‘Chancer’ where singer Kenny’s Scottish accent becomes apparent, focusing less on words but fast in rhythm to slip into a Dead 60s ska vibe. There is an air of evenness between instruments as though the whole band has had a say on the makeup of the album. ‘Chewed Up’ is included to flatter drummer Jack Hannan or please any air-drum enthusiast listening, containing dynamic beats helped out by rapid string scratching. Duties are taken further on the song ‘Bag’ where bassist Jen Dalby takes lead vocal in a piece that’s sombre and echoed, so much so it’s given violin for extra apathy, the good type mind you. It can fall from ska to pop-rock quite easily. ‘Religious’ has pleasant tin-can melody, completely off charter from previous track tempo. ‘Campsite Discotheque’ may sound like a picnic and a rave, but it’s really old-fashioned rock n roll indoors.

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Upcoming Edinburgh rockers Reiser have released EP ‘Drinking Den’ to showcase their work. BBC 6Music have spun some of the tracks while the band have been supporting fellow Scots the View and played Live Sessions for XFM. Title-track ‘Drinking Den’ instantly highlights the band’s anthemic ambition with a slightly Kasabian-like intro, without the copyrighted chanting. Lead man Chris Blair sounds like he warrants the microphone with a deeply clear voice. Meanwhile scorched guitars are Idlewild in approach but slightly less confident in method. Despite a sly high-pitched guitar twang ala Modest Mouse in ‘The Actor’, it breaks no ground for the band. They make up for this with ‘Call Me Round’ where it begins as a pastiche of the Mancunion 1990s, ever so something Roses in harmony it almost mocks the Mock Turtles, then the chorus wipes away thoughts of imitations with skilled heavy lyric and sound. The most original song goes to ‘The Ringmaster’. Balancing fun lyrics and the traditional circus-song on a high-wire of hard rock, it then reverts to acoustic ska-friendly tone for a finish that will make you wish all their songs could be as entertaining. But there is promise here; they just haven’t found ‘that’ sound.

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Fresh from the seas around Brighton, the Mojo Fins debut album is released in memory of former bandmate Jon Chandler who died in a road-traffic accident in 2007. ‘First Conversation’ is a great opener with keyboard chimes, speedy percussion matched by gentle backing harmonies, as Stephen Brett sings like a sound-alike of the Manic Street Preacher’s James Dean Bradfield, another man who knows all too well of the pain of losing a front-man and friend. New single ‘In The Script’ nods to John Fogerty in lyric but forges its own path of semi-folk pop with up-tempo beat employing more key changes than a Westlife CD, but the discourse that risks its easy-listening credentials succeeds in exposing the band’s strengths, particularly agile guitar work. The odd track unfortunately carries a coffee-chain ambience but most are closer to Magic Numbers territory with real, uplifting pop-rock. ‘Trick of Light’ is simple, standout and slightly Ryan Adams in tone, painting a picture of a grey Brighton with people still sunbathing. The lyrics are colourful and unmistakably personal given the band’s circumstances but skip any wallowing to deal with dejection with the hope of another chance. The glass has never been so half-full.

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If New-Wave/Old-Wavers Nouvelle Vague joined forces with the Avalanches, surely the only result would be both psychedelic and sexy. Or, it could sound like the new album from the Soundcarriers who hail from Nottingham. Yes that’s right Nottingham. Lyrical ease is personified under female angelic harmonies and male devilishly cool vocals, especially in ‘Uncertainty’ where voices slide into loose rhythms in a carefree setting of saxophone and flutes. Despite the Midlands being nowhere near a beach, some of the Soundcarriers tracks like ‘Calling Me Reprise’ simply breathe surf-music, the type from the soundtrack of any 70s surf-flick. Other songs however possess a Booker T ‘Green Onions’ feel that wouldn’t be out of place on a ‘Music to Watch Girls Go By’ compilation. The album acts as a master class of how to mix drums, electronica, organs and anything that makes funk happen, but even though it’s full of Mediterranean confidence it avoids sounding like a generic Fiat advert, making it the best record from the Midlands since sliced baguette.

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This Exeter five-piece’s EP is full of snappy guitar prolongs, a free and easy chorus on ‘Sol-Fuk’ where feminine tones sooth the lead-man’s intense meetings with his microphone. When tailing off, for a split-second the drums begin to govern, almost Coral-esque (Migraine live), but end prematurely. He sings: “you lose your sense of fun”, oh-no Ono and co, you lost it when you stopped playing. Though it’s a fascinating track that deserves more than three minutes, a trait too often used when targeting an audience of trigger-happy iTune shufflers. Believe it or not ‘The End’ has a beginning and middle. It sounds remarkably like an ode to the Pixies, as does much of the EP, but if you took away the disco ambience you’d have daylight robbery. Light whispers finish the song off in a charming ending. It’s the pick of the bunch here. Pleasant also is the pop-like ‘Eat Your Makeup’. Unfortunately Kitty Magic is a toothless tune with forgettable lyric that’s about as magic as David Blaine. But essentially the songs are soap-on-a-rope punk – if a tune slips into untamed vocals it’s safely confined to electronica and so catchy you’ll be singing them in the shower.

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