Interview with Lush's frontwoman Miki Berenyi

It’s a regular Tuesday night in everything but the fact that I am currently sat opposite Miki Berenyi, the returned frontwoman of Lush. After nearly a 20-year break, the 90s favourite indie kids make their return. Much has changed for the band in the interim: Elastica’s Justin Welch replaces Chris Acland on drums after Acland committed suicide in 1996; Berenyi all but disappeared from the music scene to start a family and hold down a regular job. In spite of this, she remains the same at the core: she sips on white wine that she brought over, and intermittently takes a few drags on an e-cigarette.

When she speaks of how it feels to be back, Berenyi says it’s ‘really quite odd actually […] I was losing sleep about having agreed to do this. I suddenly thought, “fuck, I haven’t played in twenty years, this is going to be a disaster.” And actually, it was really good to just go into the studio and sing and play guitar and think, “ok, I can still do this!”’

In spite of having been out of the game for so long, there is a clear sense of anticipation to play live again [I spoke to Berenyi before Lush’s headline shows at the Roundhouse]. ‘It’s a bit weird cos we haven’t played yet […] I went on the radio and they were like “ooh so how’s it going?” and all I can really talk about is rehearsals. I mean, I can talk about the EP a bit but even that isn’t out yet.’

Image: Allmusic

In 2015, Lush started working on Blind Spot, a new EP with new material – a fresh continuation of where the band had gotten to in their last years. ‘It’s pretty much picking up where I left off […] Although lyrically it was really difficult trying to get back into it, suddenly trying to write, thinking “ugh what did I used to write about? And what can I write about now? I can’t write about the same things!” But actually, there is a bit of a pattern to it. [My lyrics] are a bit oblique, they are personal, they are of their kind.’ She stops before ploughing on, ‘I’m not suddenly coming back like “right, I’m gonna write songs about the Labour party.” It doesn’t work like that.’

It seems strange that after such a long hiatus, Lush would decide after all that they weren’t quite finished with the music industry; everyone had assumed that they had hung up their guitars and called it a day. Not so. Berenyi says the reunion had been in the pipeline for as long as eight years, but practically just wouldn’t have worked before now. ‘I get a sabbatical after five years, so I’ve got an extra six weeks’ holiday this year,’ she explains. ‘I’m not giving up my job. That’s not gonna happen.’ She has become used to the life of a civilian: ‘If I could be at home, just open a door, play a gig and then come back and be at home, that would be great. Playing music, playing live and recording – great. But the rest of it is a fucking nightmare! It is a lot of hassle.’

For Miki, the separation from the music industry after Chris’ death was total. ‘I almost left completely. I haven’t really followed music, I wasn’t going to gigs and I haven’t played.’ She muses, ‘I don’t know how massively comfortable I ever was in that industry.’ As a response to Chris Acland’s death, everything music-related became a reminder. ‘I’m sure it’s the same for anyone who’s lost someone, but for a while you sort of randomly burst into tears, and you think you’re ready to go out and then you’re not. The music industry is not really the place to do that. You know, you’re at a gig and suddenly you’re really upset and people are like “ooh dear!” So I just completely retreated from it, just cut off all ties. Chris’ aunt trained me to become a sub-editor, and she said “ooh you should try and get work at the NME. That’s where you should go cos you know that subject”. And I wanted to go a million miles away from all of that. Totally turned my back on it, basically.’

So after what was a very conscious and decisive split from music, band business became secondary. It’s more of a case of ‘why don’t we just do this while we can’ rather than prioritising it above and beyond anything else. ‘I can still remember a flight to Japan to go and visit my mum, and I was sat for ten hours writing these lyrics because I just had to fit them in when I could.’ After musing for a moment, she adds, ‘It was really good fun!’

Image: David Lavine for the Guardian

In their heyday, Lush were pigeonholed into every imaginable genre, by the merit simply of being around. First shoegaze, then Britpop; if there’s one label they couldn’t escape, however, it was ‘girls in a band’. ‘The tricky thing,’ Miki explains, ‘is that the scene that we came from, which was really small pub gigs and a whole mix of influences, didn’t have a problem with women in bands. At grassroots level, it didn’t seem to be a problem. To be honest, it was a lot of the journalists that were fetishizing girls in bands. Then when you’re trying to be a professional and you’re going on tour, encountering crew and maybe someone local who’s doing the lights and they go “oh yeah, girl band, right I get it”. So when we were in our little enclave it was absolutely fine. I imagine it’s probably not that different now. If you’re at college I imagine it’s all very right-on and people would fucking dream of saying that shit.’

To explain what she means by ‘that shit’, Miki cites the recent interview with The Last Shadow Puppets in Spin, where Miles Kane repeatedly makes the female journalist uncomfortable by inviting her up to the bedroom. ‘Unless I stand there and act dumb, and laugh at [the men’s] jokes, it’s gonna irritate them, and then I’m a bitch.’

In terms of the constantly changing genre that they were assigned by the music press, Berenyi sees a direct correlation between this and the attitudes towards women in the industry. ‘There’s this thing in the music press of “they’re old news”. And I felt that being a woman was a part of that. It’s like, “there’s a new breed of women replacing you. We’re sick of shoegazing girls: now we want Courtney Love.” It’s one thing saying it about the music; it’s a whole other thing saying it about your gender.’

She sighs. ‘[The industry] wasn’t really created for women of 30+. When [Lush] ended I was almost 30. It gets quite difficult. When you’re 25 and it’s all kind of exciting, but there comes a point, especially for women where you think “actually I’m sick of being bloody patronised by guitar roadies”. I’m sure it’s the same for any women in the entertainment industry, but it is a bit infantile with bands.’

None of this is necessarily breaking news, of course, but every fresh report brings to light just how unfair the music industry is for women. ‘It is about men being allowed to behave a certain way, men being encouraged to behave a certain way.’ But, Berenyi argues, there is a flipside. ‘Now there are quite a lot of older women in music, whether it’s Chrissy Hynde or Debbie Harry, so for the two-steps-forward-three-steps-back that a lot of mainstream music has taken – a lot of the flesh-revealing, bitchy, un-sisterhood stuff that’s going on – there is a separate stream.’

In spite of their seemingly indefinite hiatus, Lush are back and they’re bad. ‘We’d love to make an album! But it’s all about the logistics: it’s funding it, it’s trying to find the time.’ Please find the time, Miki. I speak for the masses. Please.

Beyoncé - Lemonade

Beyoncé returns with what is her most daring album to date. Lemonade was announced with minimal explanation, merely a screenshot of what later transpired to be the album cover and a mystery deal with HBO. The release of her visual album caused shockwaves throughout the internet. Coupled with the exclusivity of Lemonade only being accessible through Tidal before it was made available on iTunes, the hype was amplified, multiplied, exaggerated by a million so that within a matter of hours, the lemon emoji had already become the universal symbol for 'men watch out'.

Source: Allmusic

The strength of Lemonade comes from how explorative and diverse it is in terms of spanning genres. 'Daddy Lessons' is undeniably a very good country track, with Beyoncé's soulful voice weaving a wonderful story, melding and adapting to create the warbles of the mid-west. 'Pray You Catch Me' and 'Forward' were produced in collaboration with James Blake, giving Beyoncé an induction to the world of ambient, swirling indie pop. The layering of her voice in the former, then the spine-chilling harmonies of the latter, whirl around your headphones in a sad ecstasy, building up to a tragically beautiful cry. 'Don't Hurt Yourself', which features Jack White and an introductory drum beat that couldn't be anything but Jack White (see 'Freedom at 21' for further proof), is an incredibly, fabulously aggressive assertion of Beyoncé's independence as an artist, a woman, and as a wife. The hard rock works surprisingly well with her strained, desperate scream, forcing us to drop everything and listen. Not as if we wouldn't anyway. 

Lemonade is remarkable in how proudly it wears its collaborators on its sleeve. Beyoncé is now enough of an artist to be able to collaborate with big names and hold her own; these men (and they are all men) take the back seat, and Beyoncé steps into the spotlight. Aside from the great number of collaborators, Beyoncé pays tribute to her musical inspirations in a fantastic sampling and adaptation of Isaac Hayes' version of 'Walk On By' in her track with The Weeknd '6 Inch'. It creeps into the track, but then leads and directs its development, with B expertly navigating the swelling string climax. It's a triumph in music appreciation.

One of the many reasons that Lemonade has been causing a stir is the very overt references to Jay Z's suspected infidelity, and Beyoncé's boss ass bitch-ness in responding to this. 'Sorry' declares nonchalantly, "Middle fingers up, put them hands high/Wave it in his face, tell him boy bye". The hip-twirling, calypso-inspired 'Hold Up' throws in the defiant sting of "I don't wanna lose my pride but imma fuck me up a bitch". In 'Don't Hurt Yourself', Beyoncé spits out "who the fuck do you think I is?/You ain't married to no average bitch boy". One listen of Lemonade will turn you into the sassy, unapologetic and fabulous bitch you always wanted to be.

Source: Youtube

Aside from the themes of infidelity and bad ass-ery, Lemonade carries with it a strong discourse on race relations in America, both past and present. I would quickly like to acknowledge my privilege, and say that it's tricky for me, a white middle class woman, to comment on the particular resonance this album has for black people all over the world. But, as I believe that music exists as a public thing to be appreciated by everyone, there is here only appreciation rather than judgement. The visuals for 'Forward' include images of Lesley McSpadden holding up a picture of her late son Mike Brown, the death that sparked the Black Lives Matter movement a year and a half ago. 'Freedom', Beyoncé's creation with Kendrick Lamar, is reminiscent of Django Unchained in its hints of 'Unchained' from the soundtrack. It perfectly blends explosive hip hop and incendiary rap to create a message of independence - both sexual and racial. In this way, the links between 'Freedom' and Django go beyond music: the video features Beyoncé singing gospel preacher-style to an audience of black women in white dresses, reminding us of the freedom slaves achieved through the power of religion and music. Any lyric from 'Formation' could be used to demonstrate this, but it's done particularly well by the lines "I like my baby heir with baby hair and afros/I like my negro nose with Jackson Five nostrils"; they declare loud and proud a defiant pride in black appearances, a thorny topic at best given the current discourse on cultural appropriation and subjecting black women to white beauty standards in the media. Beyoncé inspires a pride in black culture and history that in a world where, politically, this is a shameful thing.

Lemonade is a total tour de force. It refuses to be silenced or spoken for; it is Beyoncé taking an entirely new direction, and all on her own terms. May she blaze trails for much much longer.

Rating: 9/10

Recommended tracks:

'Freedom'

'Pray You Catch Me'

'Don't Hurt Yourself'

Django Django live at Stylus, Leeds

Fresh-faced thirteen year olds attending their first gig rub shoulders with seasoned rockers, forming the biggest motley crew imaginable and packing out Stylus for the men of the hour: Django Django. As the band appears, resplendent in piano key shirts and Christmas jumpers, they are decidedly uncool. All of that is about to change, as lead singer Vincent Neff picks up a tambourine and wields it like a talisman, entrancing the crowd as he waves it back and forth for ‘Hail Bop’. All of a sudden, the four gawky lads stood on stage are transformed into magicians, placing the audience under a spell as they weave their way through an incredibly varied set.

Django Django prove themselves to be more inventive than just another indie electro band. ‘Love’s Dart’ featured the make-shift use of a cardboard box as a drumset and coconuts as percussion; paired with an acoustic guitar, it provides a lulling contrast to the preceding ‘Reflections’.

They also expand outside of their generic bounds with ‘Slow West’; written for the Michael Fassbender film of the same name, it’s the closest the band will ever come to a Mumford & Sons-esque vibe without swapping their synths for banjos.

The most striking thing about Django Django is how much their performance suddenly puts their albums into context. As recordings, it’s easy to see how, objectively, they are undoubtedly quite good, but not hugely impressive or memorable. Live, they are electrifying. Where on the album, tracks like ‘Skies over Cairo’ are repetitive, when performed, you never want them to end.

The band’s own enthusiasm during the show is infectious. Carried through by the mesmerising drum beats, the band enter their own trance-like world which, rather than excluding the audience, pulls them in further.

Django Django: indie rock’s nice guys changing your life one strobe light at a time.

Obituary for David Bowie

'Ain't there one damn song that can make me break down and cry'

David Bowie: 1947-2016. As much as it pains me to write these words, David Bowie died this morning after suffering with liver cancer for 18 months. Living long enough to see the release of his latest album Blackstar, he died just two days afterwards. Suddenly, the album clicks into place: 'I Can't Give Everything Away' seemed before like a tease, and now becomes a final goodbye; the opening lyrics to 'Lazarus', 'Look up here, I'm in heaven/I've got scars that can't be seen', fall into place as a veiled reference to the cancer. Blackstar becomes his swan song, his final parting gift to the world.

Looking at the incredible span of his career, it's hard to believe that one individual can have accomplished so much. David Jones became David Bowie became Major Tom became Ziggy Stardust became Aladdin Sane became The Thin White Duke became The Man Who Fell To Earth. He reinvented himself again and again and again before anyone had a chance to call him old hat. There is so much of modern life and culture that only exists because Bowie had the guts to push the boundaries, to boldly go where no man had dared to go.

Maybe because he wasn't fully a man. You have to consider the courage and strength of will it must have taken to have written such an astounding album as Blackstar whilst suffering from cancer and, at the same time, keeping both of the above heavily under wraps. He remained stoic to the last, maintaining his mystical allure by refusing interviews and tours, drawing the world further into his mysticism. Furthermore, what man could dare to embody the alien beauty of Ziggy? What man had his ethereal handsomeness? What man could pull off a knitted jumpsuit like David Bowie? He was and shall remain superhuman, extra terrestrial, not quite of this world.

There are not enough words in the world to even begin to touch on the wealth of creativity Bowie possessed. Not quite content with storming the music industry, he branched out into acting, delivering fantastically memorable performances: as Jareth the Goblin King in Labyrinth, Thomas Newton in The Man Who Fell to Earth, himself in Zoolander, Nikolas Tesla in The Prestige. No child who has watched Labyrinth can ever forget The Bulge.

As silly as it is, I feel deeply touched by his death, as though I've lost someone incredibly close to me. And I tell myself that I have no right to feel this way, that I didn't know him personally, and it's a terrible affront to all of his nearest and dearest that I have the nerve to presume such an affinity with him. But in all honesty, the fact that so many people feel this way demonstrates his absolute and undeniable talent. If his music was powerful enough to make an eight year old, sat in her bedroom listening to Ziggy Stardust and dreaming of the starman, feel as though she experienced the day Ziggy died in 1973, then his career was a success. To make people feel the core of your music is surely the goal of all musicians. Bowie achieved this in force. Goodbye to the man who sold the world, gone to join the stars that he came from.

Grimes - Art Angels

Grimes’ long-awaited new album is finally here. Claire Boucher delivers once more. Just looking at the album art, a terrifying illustration of an entrancing three-eyed girl crying tears of blood, this album will deliver just as much of a curve-ball as Visions did. The collaborations confirm this, with tracks that feature the RnB darling Janelle Monae and another one with Taiwanese rapper Aristophanes. Typically, it’s confusing, it’s eclectic, and it’s 100% Grimes.

Art Angel marks a definite shift in direction for the Canadian singer. Featuring everything from dramatically orchestral pieces (laughing without being normal sounds as if it’s been taken directly from a movie soundtrack) to the Graceland-inspired opening for Butterfly. One particularly surprising change is the sunshine and sugar-infused California; it’s how Grimes would sound if Simon Cowell produced her and she had her own brand of below-average perfume. It’s not the paradox that we expect with Grimes: predictably original. It’s electro pop, pure and unashamed.  It would be an alright song had anybody else done it, but for Grimes, it leaves you a little flat.

The whole album is far catchier than Visions; there are discernible verses and choruses, and you’re unwittingly drawn in so that before you know it, you’re on a tennis court in a Victorian wedding dress re-enacting the Flesh Without Blood video. Art Angel has an undeniable energy to it that bounds along from track to track like an excited puppy that bounds off in the park and drags you along on the lead. Realiti is a particularly stand-out track, with typically beautiful, dark, twisted and fantastical lyrics like ‘when we were young, we used to live so close to it/And we were scared that you were beautiful/And when I peered over the edge and seen death, if we are always the same’. 

Seeming non-sequitors suddenly assume an utterly new meaning when put in the context of this brilliantly ascending track, climbing higher and higher. In spite of its name, it almost transcends reality.

It’s different, but brilliant. It’s pop-y, but perfect. It’s great, so it’s definitely Grimes.

Oh Wonder

Photo: Allmusic

The London-based duo may have only just released their debut album, but they are pretty much pros in the music biz by this stage. Releasing one track every month for a year, Anthony West and Josephine Vander Gucht created a gradual hype that has built and built around them: a much-deserved hype that continues to grow, selling out shows in New York, Amsterdam and London even before the release of the album. That is, if nothing else, impressive for a rookie band from The Big Smoke.

With beats and synth reminiscent of Jungle, Oh Wonder pose a similarly difficult-to-pigeon-hole conundrum. The duo also employ the same tactic of double-tracking their vocals, both singing simultaneously. However, the contrast in timbre between the male and female voices allows far more room for experimentation, and they use this to their advantage. It stands out particularly well in simpler tracks like All We Do, adding variety and interest to an otherwise simply produced track.

Oh Wonder possess the handy knack of knowing how much is too much, and when to ease off. In Lose It, the introductory piano becomes the foundation on which they build the rest of the track, with layers drifting in and out as necessary; drums are built up and reduced throughout, synth becomes an ornament rather than a necessary part of the track, and the sparse bridge is the perfect lead-up to the chorus. It's everything a pop song needs to be: catchy, restrained and then loose in all the right places.

The lyrical content of the album is beautifully optimistic; take Landslide, for example. Once you brush aside the immediate Fleetwood Mac associations, you realise it's a rather lovely song of encouragement. Lyrics like 'I know your hope is heavy/But you'll get over it/You'll find another life to live' are supported and carried perfectly by the instrumental parts. The beat of Midnight Moon picks you up and takes you with it; the opening lyrics 'You with the wide eyes, don't lose your courage', along with the repeated last word, might be rather generic, but the crafting of the lyrics around the beat refreshes the old technique and draws you in.

To sum up Oh Wonder in three words: simplistic, minimalistic, and actually rather sweet. Oh Wonder definitely isn't a misnomer. If anything, it's an invitation.

Rating: 7/10

Recommended tracks:
Livewire
Without You
Technicolour Beat

Shura

Source: Allmusic

One of the (many/thousands/bajillions) of reasons why Shura is so admirable, both in her music and work ethic, is that she does everything herself. Not only does she sing, but she produces, remixes and shoots her own music videos; in a world where it's only too easy to ring up the expert to get the job done quickly and easily, it's astounding that she still has the energy left to write the damn songs. The west London gal has gained critical acclaim very quickly, not just from the BBC's Sound of 2015, but from fellow Shepherd's Bush pals Jungle, as well as Chloe Moretz and Huw Stephens. The world is currently awaiting the release of her debut album, which, if her recent tracks are anything to go by, will most certainly not disappoint.

There's a fabulous mystery to Shura in that she's everywhere and yet nowhere all at once. The swirling, gorgeous build of songs like Touch gradually fills the space, but the very low-key production and whispering beauty of her voice mean that it remains just on the edge of your consciousness whilst you're listening to it, and seeps gradually in to your awareness. She pops up for the first few seconds of her video for Touch, and then not a trace of her can be found for the rest of it. Her songs are almost gloriously introverted, just the kind of music that proper headphones were invented for. This is added to by the fact that she produces all of her songs in her bedroom, it's where, she says, 'they start out as little ideas and forays into craziness'. It adds that irreplaceable personal touch to her music that adds to the meticulous care taken over everything, and what draws us in.

Source: Allmusic

Just Once is, quite honestly, one of the best songs about one night stands that doesn't involve the phrases 'all night long', 'baby right there' or 'timber'. It's strikingly similar to Daughter's Amsterdam in that it's quite tragic in its depiction of the need for human company to break the monotony of unbearable loneliness. The rising synth motif and the tentative question 'have you ever been lost' is quite plaintive in its reverberating subtlety, but as it fades out it you're left feeling unfulfilled, in need of so much more. Unfortunately, the only song available to buy from Shura is Indecision, and it's far bolder and surer (haha, so punny) of itself than the other tracks. It starts off with a echoey, clear drum, swiftly followed by a very clear synth line that's lightly and briefly decorated with a beautiful falling phrase that's soon swallowed up by the vocals. It's put together so masterfully, and the lyrics are such a good example of master-crafted banality interwoven with emotional insight, you can't help but bop along.

Not only does Shura do her own tracks beautifully, she adorns other people's absolutely wonderfully. Well, more than adorn. Complete, really. Her collaborations with Hiatus (a.k.a. Cyrus Shahad) are the most astounding example of how two artists can work together to utilise the best of what the other has, not just to name drop. The close harmonies on Cloud City are - I don't know, I've used up all of the positive superlatives in my vocabulary. All I'll say is you have to hear it to believe it.

The delicate certainty with which Shura operates is worthy of much more attention than she has received so far. Her songs are arresting in their simplicity, and all I can say is that I want so much more from her before this year is out. Watch this space

Rating: 9/10

Recommended tracks:

Touch

We Can Be Ghosts Now (actually Hiatus ft Shura)

Just Once

The 2 Bears - The Night Is Young

Source: Allmusic

2 Bears have commanded a certain amount of attention for an underground DJ duo from London. Their second album, The Night Is Young, builds on the boisterous and brawling precedent set by their debut, Be Strong, and is enough of a throwback to the Detroit house scene to make you slap smiley face stickers on everything in sight.

The two bears in question, Raf Rundell and Joe Goddard, are not the most obvious choices for DJ aficionados. They're not super slick, MTV-ready like the majority of the DJs that dominate the charts nowadays. In fact, they're as normal and grounded as you could hope for someone in the music industry ever to be. They embody the spirit of everyone who's ever drunkenly thought that they could be the next Calvin Harris if they thought to put their mind to it, except they really are the next Calvin Harris (but better). Despite their evident expertise (Goddard formed Hot Chip with Alexis Taylor, and Rundell is a producer), they don't take themselves too seriously, and are careful to intersperse the very clean beats with snippets of their boyish humour. The chorus of See You is honestly just an excuse for them to mimic someone who has quite a funny voice. Guys after my own heart. It's this very relatable quality that makes them instantly appealing and quite endearing. You can't help but like them, especially once Rundell has commanded you to buy their album because 'my children need wine'.

Source: Allmusic

The 2 Bears are the masters of the quality electro-pop tune. First came Warm & Easy, mashing up every amazing holiday you've ever had and squashing it all into one song, and Bear Hug, the anti-sleazy club song. The Night Is Young gave the world Not This Time, a perfect mixture of angry Taylor Swift break up song, a soul vocals and the slickest production you've ever heard. Coupled with one of the most flamboyantly fabulous music videos I think I've ever seen (who knew it was possible to look that sexy whilst cleaning the oven), not only is it a stand-out track on the album, but it makes for one of the most satisfying shower songs. Trust.

Another astounding thing about any 2 Bears song is their ability to weave an apparently unrelated melody into a seemingly complete song; it's only after this section has passed that you realise the song couldn't ever really be complete without it. Without the ethereally dark section towards the end of My Queen, there wouldn't be that much to talk about. Not only does it add extra depth to the song, but the chance it allows for the vocals to move into a soulful, albeit slightly simplistic, tune, giving the lyrics a meaning that they would never have otherwise had.

There's something vaguely surprising about 2 Bears. It could be something to do with the scruffy appearance, or the unexpectedly, sweetly smooth voice that comes out of Rundell, but there's something about them that doesn't quite match up. Maybe it's just that nobody expected a house come-back to be this fucking good.

Rating: 9/10

Recommended Tracks:
Angel (Touch Me)
Get Out
Not This Time

Brick Lizard

Brick Lizard seem like yet another rock band trying to make it in the ever-changing music world, but there's something slightly different about them.They sound like when your little brother has just discovered rock and roll, and picks up a guitar for the first time. Although obviously their skills are far more advanced than that, they've managed to preserve an element of that essential raw passion for music that seeps through every pore of their tracks. For example, Jealous, a track from their new demo, is laden with references, musically and lyrically (the thinly veiled nod to the famous 'I drive my Chevy to the levy' from American Pie is a standout) that map their influences, giving a respectful round of applause to their roots, and then moving on, making something very new out of something as old as the hills. They play so effortlessly, and the sparse layering exudes a couldn't-really-care sort of attitude, which is enhanced by the unpolished, rough diamond vocals.

When talking about the song writing process, both Rowhan, the guitarist, and Uri, bassist and vocalist, are equally modest. "It's sort of 50-50", says Rowhan, looking for Uri's approval. The riff usually comes first, which is then perfected before Uri adds vocals and lyrics. "I've been in bands before," he says, "but I've never written lyrics for the kind of music we're playing now." No matter - the lyrics spurt out in a stream of consciousness manner, and are almost Turner-esque in their euphemistic provocativeness; in Broken Bricks, the line 'your back-door tricks for a minute on the lips won't conquer me' calls to mind the reluctant resistance of Crying Lightning.

On the subject of comparisons, the band recognises that they're hard to get away from as newcomers. When asked who they most aspire to be like, Queens of the Stone Age, Led Zeppelin and Arctic Monkeys are the first things out of their mouths. "I just wanna be Josh Homme, man", smiles Rowhan. "After a gig someone actually told me I reminded them of him. That was cool." Uri chips in, "we don't want to be a tribute band, though. It's nice for people to see our influences in our music, but we don't want to replicate them." That's what's so nice about Brick Lizard, though; they're clearly so passionate about the music they play and listen to that some of it can't help but bleed through into their own songs.

Both Rowhan and Uri have been playing music for a long time, that when I ask them what made them want to play music, they take a while to consider their answer. For Uri, it was being raised on a staple diet of The Beatles, and he references classic bassist/singer Paul McCartney as an inspiration. Rowhan, on the other hand, grew up with 'Mariah Carey shit', until exposed to Led Zeppelin by his dad, and he's never looked back. Both of them are equally into Led Zeppelin, and Uri even names his favourite bass line as Ramble On, and his best vinyl album as Houses of the Holy. The opening of Another Life oddly sounds as if Stairway to Heaven had been recorded in a Dalston studio, plus a QOTSA-inspired guitar line. The mish-mash of classical rock and grunge is oddly refreshing; one could argue that they've both been done to death, but the pure enthusiasm of the band brings something new, something interesting to the combination.

I asked them what the ultimate sign of making it would be; silence pervaded for a good few seconds. Then Rowhan pipes up, "50 million albums sold!" As they both laugh, Uri just says "well, you never know, reach for the stars."

Rating: 8.5/10

Recommended tracks:
Another Life
Broken Bricks
Jealous

Jungle - Jungle

Source: Allmusic

There's a certain simplicity that exists within Jungle's music which is, surprisingly, difficult to see; it's so full of so many different components, making the music swell and grow, that it very cleverly disguises the most integral part: the bass. The bass is constantly present. It may ebb and flow with the growth of the music, but ultimately, it's always there. It represents something so intrinsically dancey, so chilled, so smooth about Jungle that it's hard to resist the urge to get up and wave your limbs like a madman.

Everything that Jungle is about centres around dance. All of their videos are showcases of incredibly talented dancers, which just makes you want to die of shame when thinking about your particularly awful dad moves that you unadvisedly whipped out last Saturday night. None of their videos actually feature any of the band members, forcing you to appreciate Jungle for their music and not for their image, which is commendable in an industry obsessed with 'the look'. Most notable among their videos is Platoon, featuring an unbelievably talented six year old girl who could put anyone to shame. This simplistic style of filming suits Platoon in particular, because it forces you to really feel each beat of the well-timed vocals, guitar, and twinkly tambourine-y things, not simply passively listen to it. The way the girl starts putting on her armbands and beanie when the music builds up again reminds you that something impressive is coming. The visuals, rather than detract from the quality of the music (as often happens with elaborate, movie-style music videos) add to it in a brilliantly crafted way.

Busy Earnin' is one of their songs that particularly stands out as being something slightly spectacular among all of their slightly spectacular tracks. It allows you a bit of respite with the siren noises at the beginning before plunging straight into a heavy beat and an energising melody line. The layering is perfect in this song; the right bits drop out and come back in at exactly the right time to add emphasis to the best bits, and add decoration to the bits that need it most. The second verse becomes much more diversified, adding never-ending interest in unexpected places. By keeping you on your toes, Jungle manage to stay one step ahead of their listeners all the time. They know they're in control, and the flair with which they play exhibits this perfectly.

Source: Flickr

Another one that grabs you by the ears, spins you round and drops you off at the other end of the planet is Time. There's just something so fascinating about it; how can something with such a comparatively sparse drum beat be so compelling? The truth is that the sparsity of the drum beat allows you to locate the rhythm a lot more easily, and leaves space for other instruments to create grooves over the top of it without letting the focus be taken off the main beat. It's a genius tactic, really, and it lends itself perfectly to the breakdown, where all that's left is clicking, unidentifiable synth sounds and the vocals. The contrast is just a little bit beautiful.

Jungle have slightly crept onto the scene with a highly acclaimed, self-titled debut album. Music journalists are often very keen to draw comparisons between contemporaries ("any female with a guitar is the new Laura Marling!!", "any band vaguely originating from the North who play rock are the new Arctic Monkeys!!!") but that sort of ego-grooming really isn't possible with Jungle. They're fantastic in their own right, and although they're obviously influenced by a huge mix of people, they've chewed them up and spit out something definitively original. It's something so admirable in this day and age that it's hard not to love them for it.

Rating: 8/10

Recommended Tracks:
Lucky I Got What I Want
Drops
The Heat

Wild Beasts - Live at the O2 Academy Brixton

Given the hugely positive reception for Wild Beasts' fourth album, Present Tense, the bar was set high for the level of last Tuesday's performance. Present Tense made it onto NME's list of the best albums of 2014 so far, and it's been highly praised by all who've heard it. It's just praise indeed, but it takes a while to warm up to Present Tense, just because it's such a big step away from 2011's Smother. Anyone who claims to be a Wild Beasts aficionado (and there aren't many, but those who do are truly dedicated) will tell you that the shift isn't obvious, but more of a subtle move away from the insistent and yet artistic vulgarity of songs like Plaything. It's intelligent without being inaccessible; there are songs about sex that are less about fulfilling an animal desire and more about fulfilling an emotional deficit. In short, Wild Beasts have grown up. They'd probably resent that description quite a lot.

Psychedelic light show

With East India Youth supporting, and with the O2 Academy Brixton as the host for the festivities, it looks set to be an evening of intelligent music and heavy bass. For a one-man band, East India Youth's William Doyle is surprisingly captivating and bad-dance-moves inducing. Everything is achieved with his MacBook and a synth, all wired-up to amplify the noise by a billion. His sufficiently awkward refusal to make eye contact or interact with the audience made his absorbed and passionate performance even more interesting. A "hello" would've been nice, though.

When Wild Beasts come on, it's clear that all their hard graft to achieve some sort of notoriety has paid off; the screams are incessant throughout their set. They kick off with the beautiful Mecca, from their new album, which starts off in a languidly passionate way, giving them plenty of scope for the rest of the evening.

Some bands, when they've just released a new album, prefer to play that album from start to finish, maybe giving the audience a cover, or the staple old song that gets wheeled out at every gig they do. Not so with Wild Beasts. They gave a nod to their past by putting songs like the wonderfully vibrant Devil's Crayon, from their first album, next to Daughters, a slightly disturbingly gorgeous song from their fourth. Far from being a bit strange, the contrast only demonstrates how far the band has comes from the Limbo, Panto days.

What makes Wild Beasts stand out from many other bands is that they in fact have two lead singers: Hayden Thorpe and Tom Fleming. Both men have distinctly different voices; Thorpe favours a higher range, tending more to use a falsetto, whereas Fleming's voice is gorgeously rich and smooth. It's the vocal equivalent of a chocolate fondue. In their live performances, it's fascinating to see how shared vocals work in practice. With songs like All The King's Men, Thorpe leaves Fleming to do his thing, but in Reach A Bit Further, the two voices mix and complement each other perfectly. On the album, it's wonderful. Live, it's phenomenally phantasmagorical. Alliteration intended.

Wild Beasts

The band members themselves clearly adore what they do. Their performance is full of enthusiastic headbanging, arm-moving, piano-bashing, and, in Thorpe's case, a new method of wide-legged dancing whilst playing the bass. These guys ain't nothing if not inventive.

Wanderlust, the leading track from the new album, isn't revealed until the encore, but it gets everyone screaming "don't confuse me with someone who gives a fuck" with visible glee. The night ends on the epic End Come Too Soon, sending the crowd into hysterics when everything dies down in the middle. It provides the perfect farewell to what really couldn't have been a better performance.

All that show did was prove to me how undeserving Wild Beasts are of being called "pop". It's far too small a bracket for the wide-ranging styles and lyrics that they encompass across their four albums. Their songs are too good to be overexposed with too much airplay. Their albums deserve to be picked up and discovered quietly, and then listened to with awe and wonder. Reader, I call upon ye to love Wild Beasts, and aid me in my quest to love them quietly. I find that too much screaming and shouting only drowns out the music.

East India Youth - Total Strife Forever

William Doyle, or the one-man electronic act East India Youth, is a London-based artist who literally seems to have quietly inundated the music world with his entrancing and mesmerising songs. His debut album was released mid-January without much noise-making or pan-bashing, but those in the know have heralded it as a definite jewel.

His clever use of harmonies combined with a driving drum beat (and, in the case of Looking For Someone, sleigh bells) make his songs not too hardcore indie electronica, but just on the verge of being edgy without being white noise. The rate of change in each of the songs is chilled, relaxed, as though Doyle's ambling along Brick Lane of a Saturday afternoon. His songs seem to wear the same flowery shirts and mop of hair that he does.

Source: Wikimedia

Heaven, How Long is a particularly stand-out track, the opening of which makes it slightly cinematic, even orchestral. It's one example of how simple nuances, like the gradual shifting from soft to hard synth, creates the difference between something that's boring and something that's interesting as fuck. The soft blow of synth about two minutes in, to the lyrics "I scrape my head against the grey sky", lets us feel as though we're nearing a goal, we're getting out of the everyday synthesiser music that we're used to into something with a twist. As ever, the shift between this in the song is unassuming and modest, simply dropping the drums and adding some more harmonies recorded in Doyle's kinda nerdy, nasal voice. The changes are so minimal that they're almost undetectable until a minute later. Whatever it is he does on that computer of his, it's bloody working.

Everything is very clever with East India Youth. Even the name harks back to the East India Trading Company, made defunct in 1874; it adds him to the haul of Bright Young Things dominating the music industry, all of whom are very intellectually aware. For Doyle, it pays off. The subtlety and trickiness of his music is intensified as a result, which paradoxically makes it easier to access. He's not so overtly hipster as to be repelling, but the touch is just gentle enough to intrigue you. My advice? Let it.


Rating: 7/10

Recommended Tracks:
Dripping Down
Looking For Someone
Glitter Recession

London Grammar - If You Wait

Usually when the music world finds a band that they deem to be the "next big thing", there's a relative amount of hype surrounding the release of their debut record. Not so with London Grammar, a British trio who recently released their first album If You Wait after just one EP released in February 2013.

Source: Allmusic

It's slightly baffling to see how London Grammar, a fledgling band, have managed to leap from relative anonymity to reaching Number 2 on UK and Australian charts. It's no mean feat. Part of the success is down to the stripped-back instrumental backing, meaning they have a slightly ambiguous style, thus allowing them to appeal to any music fan. It does also mean, however, that they don't ever really allow the songs to grow at any point, and they remain on the same level for a lot of the time.

It's due to the problem that, like quite a few emerging artists who are scared of doing anything to jeopardise commercial success, they are too unsure of themselves and their sound, so they stick to what they know and are comfortable doing. It means that they never properly allow the songs to move anywhere else, anywhere different or surprising. As an emerging artist, it's their right to show off with what they can do. London Grammar seem too focused on catching the public eye to reveal the true extent of their talents. In their single Wasting My Young Years, vocalist Hannah Read sings beautiful, moving lyrics about her ex-boyfriend in a beautifully moving way, and the chorus builds up momentum gradually, although it then dies back down again straight afterwards, reverting to what it was before. Daughter, who have a similar style to London Grammar, manage to do both introspective and demonstrative at the same time, so it's not a question of whether or not it can be done. It's a question of whether or not they can do it.

That said, they are quietly insistent in their music, which is mainly due to Read's extraordinary talent as a vocalist. Her voice soars above the rest of the songs and really makes them complete. Nightcall is a very good example of this; it seems as though the rest of the band are there to provide a backdrop to Read's centre piece. Although it is a brilliant song, the lack of growth in the piano and guitar means that the song can't ever reach its full potential.

There's no denying that the basic structure of the songs and the band is good. But they're lacking in something other than their vocals to make them stand out. They need to flesh out other areas of the band in order to make them, not just good, but very good indeed.

Rating: 5-6

Recommended Tracks:
Nightcall
Hey Now
Strong

Peace - Live

Having been ranked 14th on NME's 50 Best Albums of 2013, nominated for the BBC's Sound of 2013 poll and doing several major headline tours both in the UK and USA, it's needless to say that 2013 seems to have been a pretty good year for Peace. Their debut album In Love, released in April this year, broke in at number 16 on the charts in its first week of release. Don't seem bad for a couple of rookies.

This may be why, on their first night of a double bill at the Shepherd's Bush Empire, the crowd outside are so keyed up and rearing to get in there. In fact, when they do, the lucky few were literally elbowing past each other, sprinting to get to the barriers. They seem to have attracted an unlikely bunch; obviously you've got your indie kids (only to be expected, it is a Peace gig after all) although there is a group of girls standing behind me, wearing nothing but crop tops, leggings and hoodies for warmth, enthusing over the greatness of helmet-haired You Me At Six. Brilliant. But no matter, everyone's equal in the fight for a front row view.

Superfood

This motley crew of fans started piling in very quickly, and even before Superfood, the first support act, came on they were piled at least 10 deep. By the time Peace actually do get on stage, all tiers of seating and all of the stalls were full to the brim with eager, sweaty fans, craning their necks to get a glimpse of the performance on stage.

Superfood acted as a sort of aperitif for the evening. Owing to their limited material, they lasted only half an hour, but it was everything you expect from them: awkward, brilliant, raw. Superfood preceded Drenge, the second support act for the evening. Drenge, two brothers from Derbyshire, were great. If the fervent nodding of Peace drummer Dom Boyce (who gave a cheeky look-in from the side of the stage) was anything to go by, it was going very well. As a band, their self-titled debut CD can't hold a candle to their live performance.

Drenge

As the stage is set for Peace, excitement gradually mounts. Then, the music drops, the lights go down and they swagger on stage with all the confidence their new-found success has given them. The opening number is Waste of Paint, which sets the tone nicely for the songs to come. Peace aren't very engaging as performers, preferring to shut their eyes, stare at their shoes and instruments and generally make as little eye contact with the screaming fans as possible. The between-song chatter is kept to a minimum, although as Harrison Koisser, lead singer and guitarist, attempts to throw a towel out to the crowd, he remarks in the most nonchalant way imaginable "I was born to throw. High." as said towel stops just short of the barrier.

However, all of that doesn't matter. The strength of their material makes up for their slightly self-conscious performance. As they bound through the tunes from the album (notably Follow Baby, Higher Than The Sun, Toxic, Float Forever, Lovesick and Wraith) they manage to stick in a few surprises as well: halfway through Harrison introduces one of their new songs, entitled Money; they end the main set on 10-minute trippy anthem 1998 and even stick in their recent cover of Wham!'s Last Christmas during the encore.

As the last notes of Bloodshake echo through the room, I can't help but think that they are truly a very, very, very good band. Not just good, but really rather brilliant. Well worth the sore feet and throbbing ears.

Check out this alternate review of the gig by my friend Georgia

Obituary for Lou Reed

Source: Allmusic

On Sunday 27th October, the world was greeted with the news that Lou Reed, frontman of The Velvet Underground and a brilliant solo artist in his own right, had died at the age of 71. Reed had had a liver transplant in May, and his literary agent confirmed his cause of death was "liver-related ailment". Having been a self-confessed drinker and drug user for many years, it may come as no surprise to some that this has happened. However, to the majority of the music world, it was a very sad day indeed.

Iggy Pop has said it was "devastating news". The Who tweeted "RIP Lou Reed. Walk on the peaceful side". John Cale, fellow member of The Velvet Underground, posted on his website that "the world has lost a fine songwriter and poet... I've lost my 'school-yard buddy'". David Bowie said of Reed, his old friend: "He was a master." For all of these musical legends to say such affectionate things about Reed shows his popular and widespread appeal to anyone and everyone who loved, and loves, music.

Indeed, Bowie, Pop and Reed became relatively close in the early 70s. The two American musicians met Bowie in 1971, when Bowie was just another British musician trying to make it in America. The friendship between the three musicians grew, and in 1972, Bowie ended up producing, along with his guitarist Mick Ronson, Lou Reed's epic first album Transformer. The collaboration of the two Brits on this album undoubtedly gave Reed's creative flow a new lease of life, and gave him a new direction in which to make pioneering tracks. From this album come Lou Reed's most famous singles: Perfect Day, Walk on the Wild Side and Satellite of Love.

Source: Allmusic

The Velvet Underground made headway into a difficult musical environment by producing guitar driven rock. It helped that they were the proteges of Andy Warhol, but even without his influence it's clear that The Velvet Underground would still have had the same lasting influence on music that they had at the time. In their heyday, the band never really had commercial success. Despite that, the impression they had on many people, musicians or otherwise, is evident and immortal. Their music is so accessible that you could come from any walk of life, pick up their self-titled third album and fall instantly in love. Brian Eno famously summed up their wide-reaching impact by saying "the first Velvet Underground album only sold 10,000 copies, but everyone who bought it formed a band." Hard to beat that, really.

Although Lou Reed then went on to have a long-lived solo career, it's his first album that sticks in one's mind as particularly brilliant/epic/influential/beautiful (please delete as applicable). With the aforementioned Big 3 Tunes on it, how could it not be? These three songs, Perfect Day, Satellite of Love and Walk on the Wild Side, sum up Lou Reed's career in a relatively succinct and lovely way. Each of them are tragically beautiful, like many of Reed's songs and like Reed's life itself. Take Perfect Day, for example. It starts off with what you might think was typical love song lyrics ("you make me forget myself", "it's such a perfect day, I'm glad I spent it with you") to then go into the hauntingly bitter repeated line of "you're going to reap just what you sow". That one line is enough to make me stop and think, any time and anywhere.

Source: Allmusic
c

On the face of it, Lou Reed's music was, much like his life, rock and roll, baby. Delving deeper, it's plain to see that there's a whole other level of emotional intelligence that's lost upon the average listener. Like getting to know a person, it takes time to get to know Reed's music very, very well. Every time you re-listen to an album, you discover new things about it that you'd previously been unaware of. If you don't believe me, listen to Pale Blue Eyes over and over and I guarantee you'll find something each time.

 Discussing Lou Reed with a friend, we came upon the perfect way to describe him. It's like musical philosophy; one song is enough to make you ponder your entire existence.

Fidlar

Source: Allmusic

Fidlar, or for those in the know "fuck it dog, life's a risk", are the type of band that could not suit their name more perfectly if they tried. They just exude the sort of "look at the number of fucks I could not and would never give" vibe in every song they produce. It's all very skater dude, badass, fun in the sun. Their self-titled debut album almost smells like a dingy garage that's recently been made into a hotbox.

It has to be, then, a testimony to their determination that despite their chilled attitude, there is absolutely no lapse in the energy of the album; every song is charged to the max with an
almost pre-adolescent level of testosterone. It is absolutely perfect headbanging material. Each song is structured cleverly so that you get a small break inbetween the relentless charges of guitar riffs - the large amount of guitar feedback at the end of each song allows for a bit of a breather before the beginning of the next song, when I can guarantee you'll be dancing like a fool.

The lyrical content is generally a defense of their right to be free Stoked And Broke ("I just wanna get really high, smoke weed until I die. I don't ever want to get a job. I fucked up, hey, nothing's wrong"), No Waves ("I feel, feel like a cokehead, I feel, feel like I can't get drunk no more") and Cheap Beer (the chorus is simply "I DRINK CHEAP BEER SO WHAT FUCK YOU". Need I say more.) That's what Fidlar are all about, though: the traditional, simple sex and drugs and rock and roll (mainly drugs with a bit of alcohol thrown in for good measure); it's suitably fitting that their lyrics aren't overly complicated or unnecessarily poetic. How much poetry can you realistically make out of smoking weed?

Source: Allmusic

What I really love about Fidlar, though, is their music. That is going to sound incredibly obvious and a little bit stupid, but let me explain myself further. Their riffs are really, really good. The drum parts are really, really good. Everything about the music is really, really good. It's not as though the music is particularly original or outstandingly game-changing, but there's something about it that's quite vibrant in the way that they piece the music together. The shrieks in Cheap Beer, for example, suit it perfectly, and Whore feels complete with its two verses and a bridge on repeat. They've got just the right amount of whatever it is that makes their music rebellious enough to be cool, but have held back just as it tips over into the verge of extreme. Balance is certainly everything.

On first sight, Fidlar appear to be reckless pothead skaters who exude the sort of fuck-it vibe you could only dream of. That's what they are. There are no hidden meanings or secrets to Fidlar. What you see is what you get. Sort of refreshing in a way.

Rating: 7/10

Recommended Tracks:
No Waves
5 to 9
Blackout Stout

Molotov Jukebox

Photo by Tamara Craiu

There's no real way to put it; Molotov Jukebox make Latin music sound like the kind of stuff you just want to get up and head bang to, they have an awesome brass section couple this with an accordion. I don't quite know how it works, but it really, really does.

Fronted by Natalia Tena of acting fame (she's added roles in Game of Thrones, Harry Potter and About A Boy to her repertoire), there's more to her than meets the eye. Born to two Spanish parents, she is fluent in the language and uses her Latin roots to her advantage; Molotov Jukebox's music is undeniably influenced by Tena's background. Although they may draw on Latin rhythms and riffs to add flavour and colour to their songs, they are anything but one dimensional. For one thing, Tena's official role within the band is lead singer and accordionist. For another, the music video for Get Ready was filmed topless "because it's really hot". Yeah. Damn straight.

Photo by Tamara Craiu

Being the only female in an otherwise all male 6 piece band might seem difficult, but Tena commands the band fantastically. Avoiding the Karen O approach to being a frontwoman, Tena opts for the mysteriously seductive approach. She does this in a way that allows her to be both of these without being overtly grotesque. Humility, however, is constantly maintained throughout - she's always ready to acknowledge the input of her band mates, and is completely "diamond in the rough" in her attitude towards everything. She swears like a trooper, is utterly vulgar and feels completely fine to yell at her cat, halfway through an interview, "stop being horny". For all this, she makes it seem endearing and winsome, which is a skill in itself.

Whatever you do, don't listen to Molotov Jukebox with any sort of preconceptions. Go forth and adore them, but make sure you first listen to them with your eyes closed and with isolating headphones on, just so that your surprise will be even greater. With Molotov Jukebox, it's all about the mindfucks.

Rating: 8/10

Recommended Tracks:

The Family Rain

The Family Rain are yet another one of the new bands coming out of the UK that are doing it oh so very right. A group of three brothers from Bath, Ollie Walter (guitar/vocals) and twins William Walter (bass/vocals) and Timothy Walter (drums/vocals) officially formed The Family Rain in 2011, although William says they "started to play in bands together about 8 years ago, but the bands always included at least one other member as well as the three of us". This stripped back line-up, showcasing just the essentials of a rock band, really does these boys justice; the result is a raw, bluesy sound that refuses to get out of your head.

Their new single Pushing It is the perfect example of this. It starts off in a suppressed but nonetheless unapologetically heavy fashion; the grainy effects applied to the voice and instruments make it sound like a scratchy old vinyl record (which is the god-given method of playing music). Although the song stays on the same level all the way through, they maintain interest by slight variations in the music, like the guitar backing in the second verse, or the guitar solo after the chorus. As the song progresses, you get the feeling that this would be fantastic live, just because of the mood and the level of energy in the song; indeed, the band have been called a fantastic live band by many fans. The band are currently in the process of a headlining tour around the UK.

 

The band have a small yet select (and fantastic) repertoire: their new EP Pushing It recently came out, and a Youtube search brings up several live performances and previous songs that are each as brilliant as the last. They have a distinctly vintage sound, harking back to the days of The Rolling Stones or AC/DC, which sets them apart from some of the other contemporary indie rock bands. They most certainly aren't a copy-cat band, as the back-to-basics line up and driving drumbeat will tell you.

The band themselves are clearly very ambitious; in an interview with NME Ollie said that "this is not meant to be a small thing. We gave up everything to do this". It's starting to pay off, as they've recently been signed by Virgin EMI, a record label that represents the likes of Arcade Fire, Elton John and Rihanna. I have a feeling that the future is going to be bright for these lads.

Rating: 9/10

Recommended Tracks:
Carnival
Trust Me... I'm A Genius
Friction

The Anecdotes

There seems to be nothing that new British bands cannot do. They're coming from every corner: prominently Birmingham, Liverpool, and obviously London. One city that's been slightly under-represented in the newbie stakes is Manchester. Home of The Smiths, Joy Division and The Stone Roses, it would seem that indie rock bands would have a whole lot to live up to. And so The Anecdotes step up to the plate, and they seem to be doing a very good job so far.

Their new EP Origami Waves, released on 22nd April 2013, aspires to escape reality with songs entitled Kaleidoscope and Fell Into A Dream. This seems to be the new vogue amongst up and coming artists; indeed, I'm not complaining, if there's one thing I need right now it's a bit of escapism.

The title track opens with a nod to The Smiths, sounding oddly like a remastered version of The Headmaster Ritual, but the song comes into its own when the vocals come in. The dark, brooding tones of lead singer Matt Hensley
give the song a tone of modern teenage daydreams. Despite their youth, they clearly have some proper skills, which the air-shredding guitar solo in the background will tell you. In fact, just tune your ear into any of the individual parts and you will find some talented musicians behind them. Bassist Nick Bradford, drummer Ellis Cullen and guitarist Mike Rowlinson all have an equally important part to play in the song, and they make sure none of them are forgotten.

The Anecdotes site Peace, The Cribs and The Strokes as their main influences, and their songs are very transparent in revealing exactly how those influences have seeped into their music. The opening of Kaleidoscope sounds like a rehashed version of Peace's Bloodshake, but the lyrics echo a much more distinctly adolescent emotion: that of wanting to escape and make something of yourself. This sentiment is much more reminiscent of the more recent Noah and The Whale material (i.e. Waiting For My Chance To Come), although put into an entirely different context of smashing drums and wailing guitars - if Charlie Fink had done hardcore indie rock, it would sound like this.

Fell Into A Dream is the one which really allows you to ease yourself in, like into a swimming pool on a hot day. The gradual build up of the song to the last instrumental section, where the guitar blends into itself and the drums go crazy, makes me long for being in the middle of a massive crowd at a festival, dancing like a mad person and nobody giving a monkey's. The slight change in the music after the first chorus moves the song on to new heights; they never do the same thing twice.

I think we've done it. I think there is finally a new band coming out of Manchester that aren't trying too hard to be Morrissey, and yet sound just as awesome. N.B. Do allow yourself some time for them to grow on you, it needs a bit of an adjustment period.

Rating: 7.5/10

Listen to the EP here:

Superfood

Part of the new wave of bands coming out of Birmingham, Superfood have never released an album, and only have one official song released. They are currently touring with Peace, a fellow B-Town band, and are gradually building up a loyal fan base all over the UK. Considering the amount of songs they've released, this has been done purely on the strength of their live shows and word of mouth, which, when you think about it, is pretty damn impressive.

Superfood only have one sound on Soundcloud, and it's their self-titled debut track. The quality of the voice is slightly gritty and unclean, and the shouting in the background gives you the impression it was recorded in someone's spare room - it's by no means a bad thing. All of that compliments the raw quality of the song. The bass in particular, played by the awesome Emily Baker, holds the whole thing together; the rest of the song is built around the ever-present slides and pangs of the bass. But it's not all unwashed and somewhat slightly dazed: the clean kick of the drums and the backing vocals that croon "superfoooood" add the tiny bit of polish needed so they don't sound like they recorded it in the back of a moving tour bus. However, the fact that the majority of it is very much guitar-based allows the song to do Rolling Stones with a bit of Foo Fighters. The one thing that I don't like about the song is the tendency of the lead singer to sound a bit Top of the Pops during the verses, by which I mean a bit boy band-y in the way he pronounces some words - however, that's all gone by the time you get to "YOU'RE ALWAYS HUNGRY!!" Crowd-pleaser if ever there was one.



Superfood sound like the illegitimate lovechild of Alex Turner and Dave Grohl. Which makes me love them. A lot. Jump on the Superfood bandwagon now, before their Facebook likes and Twitter followers get above 5,000! It'll happen soon, trust me. Especially if they keep on going like this.

Rating 8/10