Art Brut VS Satan

A couple of years ago I first heard Art Bruts’ Debut ‘Bang, Bang Rock and Roll’, and I fell in love with it. Excited, I tried to introduce a close friend to them, suggesting he tried their wonderful single ‘Formed a band’. He listened to it, and then teased me about it endlessly, “It’s just “We Formed a band!” over and over again! How could you possibly like this?” I was aghast, and we argued over them for hours, but however hard I tried to convince him of their simple, lovable brilliance, it was impossible to change his opinion on this marmite band. If you identify with the opinions of my friend, turn away now. There’s nothing here to make you reconsider your opinion on Art Brut, but for those of you who were drawn in by their previous offerings you may well have a treat ahead of you.

While they lack the immediate impact and raw energy they once had, Art Brut remain just as endearing, just as raucous as they ever did. Songs such as “Demons Out!”, along with the strong opener “Alcoholics unanimous”, fill the good, stomping rock song quota. Full of catchy tunes, a few cheeky guitar solos, and the occasional bombastic chorus, there’s no doubting the quality of many of the songs on the record, and this is probably in no small part down to the production of Frank Black, who may have perhaps learnt a few things from Steve Albini along his way. However the songs remain simple, and it should be clear that Art Brut’s strongest asset is their lyrics.

The vast majority of songs continue to be on the subject of the trials of tribulations of Eddie Argos, and that’s fine! Songs such as “Am I normal?” makes me smile just about every time I hear them, reminiscent of songs such as “Emily Kane”, stories of borderline stalking, and hiding behind trees, should be pleasantly familiar for many, as well as being laugh out loud funny. As well as this, Eddie informs us of his love of public transport, DC comics, chocolate milkshake, The Replacements, his struggles with Alcohol, his new found love for sex, and his requirement of a Summer Job. Despite some level of banality (in Eddie’s own words “I can’t believe you’re dancing to a song about public transport!”), these unpretentious and simple subjects are welcome. They are are well presented by Argos’s excellent and witty wordsmithery with lyrics such as: “I'm in love with a girl in my comic shop, She's a girl who likes comics, She probably gets it a lot!” from “DC Comics and Chocolate Milkshake”, which delights and amuses all.

When the songs aren’t about himself, Argos has always critiqued the music business, and in this album he makes no exception. Tackling over-produced music in “Slap Dash for No Cash”, he asks us why we’d “want to sound like U2?” this not being “a very cool thing to do”, producing another lyrical gem with “Cool your warm jets Brian Eno”. In “Demons out” he informs us that the “record buying public shouldn’t be voting”, and in “The Replacements” he criticises bands for not showing their true colours. I can’t really criticise his criticisms as they are largely correct, and shielded from elitism by the assertion that these are simply the records he likes, although there is perhaps the tiniest mummer of an undertone that those who do not like the records he likes are know-nothing plebs. However they lack the brilliance he once had on Art Brut’s first album, never reaching the level of statements such as “I can't stand the sound of the Velvet Underground” and “No more songs about sex, drugs and rock and roll, It's boring!”.

This album will do nothing to change the opinions of my friend and the rest of the Art Brut haters, being similar in style to it’s two predecessors, and doing nothing to make them a more serious grown-up band, but for the already enamoured it is a more than enjoyable listen. The worry with Art Brut was always going to be if they could maintain the excitement, especially over 3 albums, and become something more that what appeared to simply be a novelty act with amusing lyrics. I’d probably say that they’ve succeeded.

8/10

Grammatics – Grammatics

Grammatics are pretty hard to place within the cataloguing recesses of my mind. On one side they have all the ingredients of the standard indie rock band, on the other side they have a cellist. They play high tempo, almost Bloc Party-esque rock music, but have such a underlying level of complexity, and scale in their music that it would seem stupid to even compare them to a band such as Bloc Party. 

They are, in the least cliché ridden way possible, in a class of their own. Impossible to categorise, to compare to anything else, as there are simply too many comparisons that could be made, too many ideas bubbling around in here. Each time I listen to this record I notice something new, an idea I’ve never heard anywhere else, and yet it manages to do this without becoming left-field, avant garde rock. In short Grammatics, despite being new, almost revolutionary, remains accessible. 
All this aside, if I had to describe this album in a few words I’d say it was dramatic, maybe overblown. But this is essentially its greatest strength, songs soar with a fantastic sense of power. The songs are incredibly emotional, while rarely seeming to transmit feelings of elation (it seems to stay within the slightly depressing range), and should affect the listener instantly,  jumping out from the background noise music too often inhabits. The voice, while perhaps being one the weakest points (it could be considered to grate a little at first), seems to complement this, straining with the music to provide a constant sense of drama. 
The lyrics are wonderfully poetic, and almost over dramatic, complementing the music again perfectly. I defy anybody not to have Murderer stuck in their head after only a few listens. 

If I had to criticise, as previously mentioned I'd say the voice could very easily get on your nerves (it does sound a little whiney), and perhaps that at times the record may seem a little too over the top for some. But to be honest, this being a record of wonderful excess, those two points almost at times count in it's favour.
To sum up, Grammatics is an album of excess, of pure emotion, of drama. Too many ideas somehow managing to overflow and create something brilliant, something completely unforgettable. This album manages to remain constantly exciting, lacking any real filler, it's an impressive debut, and one which should never fail to make an impact. 

9.5/10

Relevant: 

D.I.L.E.M.M.A

Playlists, and other animals

Ever since the wonderful spotify hit the internet, (if you honestly don't know what it is), one major ability has been bestowed upon us, besides the ability to listen to insane amounts of music. 

I am of course talking about spotify's brilliant playlists. It's pretty easy now to make up a playlist of your favourite songs, and then quickly send it to a friend. While spotify is by no means perfect, there are still huge gaps (no Smiths!), and I now have a hatred of people called Roberta, this ability for me pretty much makes it an essential piece of software kit. 

Firstly, this makes creating mixtapes insanely easy. Which are a wonderful way to quickly introduce somebody to your music taste, or show them new bands they may not have other known (I suppose you do allready,  however,  know what a mixtape is). 

Here are for example a few I made earlier: 

Mixtape for Tamsin

Mixtape for an older relative, who I wanted to quickly introduce to some modern music he may not know. 

Mixtape for You

(N.B. That was supposed to be a playlist full of new stuff you might not have heard, but I ran out of new stuff I like that spotify actually has. Ahem) 

Secondly, I've started making little themed playlists, which are pretty fun to make. For example, here is a playlist I made of happy songs, in order to cheer up sad friends:

A Playlist of nice happy songs.  

The only real limit to this activity is your creativity, and I suppose your musical knowledge (coupled with the still bulgening catalogue of Spotify). 

I won't make a raft of examples here, because I feel that this type of playlist should be a personal thing, songs that apply to you, or your friends. 

So I'll give you a few examples to set the ball rolling instead:

Songs that make you think of summer/winter/spring/autumn. 

Songs that make you think of home. 

Songs that make you think of PERSON X

Songs that will blow your mind. 

Songs that changed your life. 

And for that last one, here's one I made ealier: Songs that changed my life

I might write more on that later. 

Relevant: 

Roberta from spotify

A rant covering White Lies. Mostly.

I'll get this out the way, I hate White Lies with a seething passion. 

It's not their average-appearing, uninspired music – that could only make me feel apathy towards them. 

It's not the sudden splurge of popularity that seems to have befallen them from the off, considering I really do try hard not to be the dreaded “indie rock snob”.

It’s everything else about them.

                                Look how deep he is, I bet he feels stuff. 

My first introduction to them, like most people I’d imagine, was the interview they gave the BBC for the “Sound of 2009” (in which they received second place, behind the frankly rubbish Little Boots). They were seated in a graveyard, talking about the “gravity of the place”, how it made them “feel stuff” (N.B. that is not a direct quote, I’m sure they would have used MUCH more pretentious language). As you should be aware White Lies are, in want of a better word, “dark”. They write songs called “Death”, and “To lose my life”. Why they feel the need to be so bliddy depressing is frankly beyond me, but in doing so they ooze the sort of smarmy pretention that sets me off. The look that makes you know he’s thinking “I’m so much deeper, more interesting, more experienced than these plebs”, but obviously he’s not, he’s in his young twenties. What has he experienced that makes him so much more qualified to speak about deep “philosophical” subjects than the rest of us? They assume that acting all worldly, and talking in deep knowing tones, means that they are somehow interesting, special, it qualifies them to write about what they think are deep and interesting subjects. They seem to think that somehow that writing a song called “death” makes them as deep and interesting as Ian Curtis. Ian Curtis was “deep” and “interesting”, because he WAS “deep” and “interesting”, not because he pretended to be, not that he put on a act.  “Closer” is a harrowing experience, because of the mental state Curtis was in, not because he found that his previous band wasn’t working, and a more dark sound and general outlook might pay more dividends. I suppose too that I’d like to say that even if they could pull off dark songs about death - and they really can’t (some of their lyrics are awful: “I saw a friend that I once knew at a funeral” – Please!), I’d still hate them.

And in a roundabout way it’s this kind of pretention in music, not just because it’s the bands doing it (dammit, I’ll admit it, my beloved Radiohead can be pretentious as hell), but because idiots tend to copy what their bands are doing and I really don’t want a bunch of people walking around talking about death because they think it makes them interesting.

I suppose what I’m really saying is that I want my bands to write about stuff, not subjects. I want artists to write songs about themselves, tell me a story. I don’t want them to write about subjects. I don’t want them to tackle the big boys of DEATH, POVERTY, WAR, I want them to write songs about Judy, or a Love Shack. Because to be frankly honest, they’re entertainers, not intellectuals. 

Related: 

Death

Love Shack