"...the focus is their live shows and even this record confirms that – it’s a tight, polished product whose every chorus and chord change was created with thousands of imaginary fans in front of them."
"Listening to their lackadaisical, bluesy songs, it’s easy to be transported away from the incessant drizzle to a rooftop bar in the blistering sunshine."
"The newies blend in perfectly to their set, but only because their choppy post-punk sensibilities haven’t really progressed since their debut in 2004."
Jim Corr-endorsed four-piece Karrier have wowed the Dublin indie circuit and supported Pink at Malahide Castle. Now, the band are looking to make a big impact with their debut album.
"The manner in which the group weave complex musical tapestries is certainly impressive from a purely technical perspective, but you suspect that they were a lot more fun to assemble than they are to listen to."
They’re a bunch of old fashioned guitarslingers whose only wish is to rock your world. Now Dublin’s finest metal troupe Large Mound are back with a killer new record.
The stars are aligned tonight: a combination of the clear sound, the cheerful nature of the crowd and the infectious enthusiasm of the band made this one of this year’s live highlights.
Chase This Light is not a genre-defying album for the history books – it just gives the impression that Jimmy Eat World are still capable of producing one.
The Swedish fivesome’s trademark sound is so ridiculously simple that you’ll be humming it all day, and with their quirky humour, probably with a grin on your face.
Of the many festivals that took place over the Bank Holiday weekend, Indie-Pendence – previously known as the Mitchelstown Music Festival, but since raised a level or three in the coolness stakes – had the most to offer, yet was the most precarious.
They can’t decide whether they want to be dance band, a rock group or a hip-hop outfit. One thing’s for sure: you’ve never head anything quite like Super Extra Bonus Party before
Control, Good Books' debut album, is self-confident – as it should be, coming from a group who’ve previously released three singles that made the hip’n’happening pee with excitement in their skinny jeans.
She’s a mouthy young Londoner who knows how to strum a guitar and isn’t afraid to diss ex-boyfriends in song. Just don’t call Kate Nash the new Lily Allen.
Having previously traded as shoe-gaze darlings The Catchers, Northern indie-poppers The Sleeping Years are back with a new record – and a rather handsome sleeve
Though Dave’s Radio’s follow-up to the top 20 track ‘Kids’ sits in the central lane of indie-rock, there’s a mighty dose of punk arrogance and a spooky electronic-type instrument throughout that sets this Dublin trio apart from the more, er, standard domestic bands. And you have to give props to a song whose hook bears more than a passing resemblance to ‘On Repeat’ by LCD Soundsystem. Hugely promising stuff.
Stamping their mark on what arguably should have been the lead track from A Weekend In The City are LA industrial duo Fury666 and Canadian duo Crystal Castles, who recently toured these parts with Cap Pas Cap. The former turns it into a bangin’ tune that Super Hans from Peep Show would be proud of, while the latter is more of a comedown that introduces some intelligent ideas to the mix. If, however, you think remixes are pointless and bands should go back to recording proper songs when releasing singles, there’s nothing here that would change your mind.
Corrs fans would probably appreciate Tara’s latest effort more than Andrea’s solo work: there’s a glorious folky tinge added to a charming tune, so that she and Ireland’s most famous family share more than a manager. Watch out for the start of the chorus when you think it’s going to break into ‘Road Rage’ by Catatonia before it veers well away (good plan).
It didn’t take long for Fergs to join the likes of Pink, Gwen Stefani and Avril Lavigne in changing from an edgy, innovative femme to a generic credibility vacuum. Assuming her new role correctly, she’s now writing mid-tempo pop songs about heartbreak with cringeworthy lyrics like “I’m not going miss you/Like a child misses their blanket”. But what’s particularly unforgivable amongst all this tripe is that the second song on the single is the album version, which is all of six seconds longer. Six seconds. Honestly, pop stars these days…
Just in time for his sold-out gig in Cork – for which tickets were 60 smackers a pop – Fiddy helpfully tells us how rich he is in rap form. The reason why he’s so loaded is because he can make even this subject matter sound appealing, damn him. There’s no massive hook and the lyrics are a little hard to decipher, but he oozes confidence and originality, which is enough to get my vote.
So here it finally is: the long-awaited return of The Thrills. In their absence, their legendary status has oddly increased. Unfortunately for them, they’ve also returned to a domestic scene where the bigger Irish bands are on the cusp of something amazing, and the smaller acts are creating a real air of excitement. In this context, more of the same just doesn’t cut it. It’s radio-friendly, sunny and memorable, thanks in part to Conor Deasy’s unique singing and Tony Hoffer’s spot-on production, but they certainly didn’t spend their three years working on a new direction. Here’s hoping that Teenager will prove that something – anything – changes around here.
Taken from the much-anticipated Is Is EP, ‘Down Boy’ is the sound of Yeah Yeah Yeahs having a subdued moment, with Karen O’s breathy vocals all too prevalent. Like the rest of the tracks on the release, it was written in 2004, and though we’ll lap it up because they’re Yeah Yeah Yeahs and they can do what they like and we’ll love it, one can’t help but wish they’d taken this opportunity to show off their post-Show Your Bones wisdom instead.
A newer name on the domestic scene, this three-tracker is the northside Dubliners’ first attempt to stamp their sound on plastic. It suffers noticeably from poor production, but looking past that, they’re chock-full of ideas and they’re not afraid to use ‘em. Employing electronics liberally but still keeping plenty of organic sounds (‘The A Tune’s guitar in particular sounds good enough to eat), the four-piece come across like a cheery mix between Joy Division, The Futureheads and Boxer Rebellion. Like nothing you’ve ever heard before, basically, which is a good thing. A very good thing.
If single of the fortnight accolades were given for titles alone, there ain’t no song that would beat this. Unless it miraculously went head-to-head with The Wildhearts’ ‘If Life Is Like A Lovebank I Want An Overdraft’ of course. Thankfully, they merit the status on song alone. Originally written for a Dior Homme fashion show (brilliant!), the song is in the same vein as the strangely addictive ‘We Danced Together’. However there’s an understated class to it that lingers well after the ubiquitous spiky riff and deep, sexy vocals have lured you in. And it definitely has a fab title.
The Dublin electro-rockers supported The Prodigy when they were last here, and it’s not difficult to hear why. Though Jeremy from Peep Show’s side-splitting attempt to make a record of that ilk has pretty much killed off any chance of the genre ever being taken seriously again, with blinkered vision it’s a forceful enough attempt to mark the band out as one of the more interesting bands doing the rounds. Which is impressive, seeing as, by all accounts, they’re even better live.
Ironic that Bangor-born Foy Vance is one of the Grey’s Anatomy soundtrack alumni who’s been forgotten, yet he really is up there with other Bangor-born Grey’s Anatomy alumni. ‘Be With Me’ is a languid, bluesy track which has the confidence of a man with nothing to prove. The song sounds like it was made purely for fun, and therefore all the more relaxed and passionate for it. Bodes well for the forthcoming album.
Let’s be honest about this: the Dublin stalwarts aren’t going to win any awards for innovation, but it would be a harsh critic who can’t see past that. The six-track EP, which clocks up nearly 20 minutes, is mostly a perfect hybrid of The Cramps and The Ramones (The Horrors, in other words). There are pipe organ frenzies, rumbling bass lines and plenty of garage rock shouting, but check out the country-esque ‘Going Home’ if you think they’re one-dimensional. That’ll learn ya.
The London-based Dun Laoghaire-bred artiste delivers an impressive piece of work: there’s Cheap Trick hooks giving a helping hand to a sturdy enough body of a song. If it was written by Sheryl Crow – and it sounds like that’s plausible – we’d be heralding it as her strongest work yet.
A pyrrhic victory? Don’t the Manic Street Preachers own the rights to that phrase? Anyhow, London’s most epic rock band return after an extended hiatus, and it’s like the tenner in the pocket you forgot you had: you were fine without it but it’s a surprise and bonus in equal measures. The Smashing Pumpkins-esque lead track ‘War Of The Worlds’ is not quite as melodic as 2000’s ‘Grounded’, nor as driving as ‘Losing Touch’, but the layers are denser and the musicianship even more refined. Elsewhere they cover Martika’s ‘Toy Soldiers’, and ‘ElectroWar’ is a stunning instrumental that’s a textbook example of how to create atmosphere. Superb.
Despite her vaguely rebellious image P!nk is really a true purveyor of middle-of-the-road pop tunes. But contrary to my rather downbeat expectations, the momentum gathered throughout her 90-minute set.
They’re from Waterford, so given the city’s recent successes in the National Student Music Awards and Murphy’s Live, ‘Sticky Fingers’ should have no problem getting former Ten Speed Racer man Terry Cullen and co. international fame and fortune. The three sombre rock tracks here exude an unhurried, confident nature, complemented perfectly by the dynamic of boy/girl vocals. Promising stuff.
Written in France at Bono’s house, no less, it seems that all the excitement of meeting the man himself made Tim Wheeler forget the basics of creating a song. Stuff like melody. Remember that Tim? From a band who brought us ballads as strong as ‘Oh Yeah’ and ‘Shining Light’, anything less than perfection is a disappointment, and this is a wishy-washy track that’s as uninventive with the string section as is with the lyrics. Cool packaging though.
It’s The Blizzards! But without the gigantic choruses! The monotonic nature of ‘On The Right Track’ never made it an obvious contender for a single, but it certainly shows a different side to them: they may excel in high-energy suckerpunches, but they know how to get all contemplative too. Fittingly, their B-side is the chuckle-worthy ‘It’s Easy To Write A Song In A Minor Key’, and as a non-album track it will draw in their in ever-growing legion of diehards.
You know how the perfect curry (stay with me) is made up of a million spices, none of which you can single out? Iowa’s The Envy Corps are the musical equivalent, adding pinches of Cold War Kids, Doves, Clap Your Hands Say Yeah and a few others to form a concoction that you’ll get cravings for. ‘Wires And Wool’, a taster for their major-label debut, is a summery tune that straddles undergroundindiecool and throwaway pop in a way that very, very few bands can. Phenomenal.
Anyone disappointed by the Second Coming of the Pixies or Weezer’s work of late will have their faith in humanity reignited by this taster from Bluefinger. With as much attitude as a snotty teenager who’s just been grounded, it features constant chugga-chugga guitars while all kinds of insanity from the dark recesses of Frank Black’s brain mill around on top. Even more delicious is the fact that it sounds like it was recorded in a garage back when he went under the moniker Black Francis. Oh wait…
Here’s the deal: ‘3s & 7s’ is an intelligent song which features the band’s trademarks biker rock riffs and some fine falsettoing by Josh Homme. So it contains the attributes that are consistent with the ever-changing line up, but in a bar brawl with any of their other tracks – even the feeble album tracks from Lullabies To Paralyze – this would be hospitalised in an instant. It’s a weak demo that somehow made it onto the album. Then was released as a single. A lead one at that. Pity.
Maria McKee wrote this track for Fergal Sharkey when she was only 19, and 22 years after it was a hit for him (that long ago?), she’s finally claimed it as her own. The two performers have in common sitting-on-a-washing-machine shaky vocals that grate after a while, but if you didn’t like Mr. Sharkey’s version, hers is original enough to surprise, perhaps.
Explain to me again why The Gorgeous Colours haven’t yet been picked up by anyone in the usually-excitable A&R community? ‘Hunting Something’ displays the band at their most inspired, dragging the genre of Americana by its straggly hair right up to the present day. There’s trumpets ferchrissake!
Considering Marilyn Manson changed from being a rag-wearing societal reject to an alt-fashion icon the nanosecond the opportunity presented itself, it should be no surprise that there’s not a trace of goth left in the band anymore. In fact the only thing to separate ‘Heart Shaped Glasses’, the lead track of Eat Me Drink Me, from Franz Ferdinand’s sound is Mr. Manson’s trademark vocals, which are part of his image. The increasing difference between the product and its packaging is only confirmed by the oh-so-shocking Natural Born Killers-inspired video, which features him and his girlfriend, the inspiration for the track, having (possibly real) sex. Oh, please.
The diet coke ad would love this: “Let’s hear it for the band member who starts a solo project!” That said, we’ve heard Geraghty’s sweet voice occasionally take centre stage in his day job as Bell X1 guitarist (most notably ‘Trampoline’), but this is 100% his own thang: he’s written, performed and produced it, and his mother should shed a tear of pride. Coming across like a blues/country version of Jack Johnson, it’s brimful of ideas which are combined seamlessly. Bodes well for the album.
Lord only knows what happened to her after The Corrs went on hiatus, but Andrea Corr’s back with a new stylist, a new fringe and a totally different sound. With Bono as “executive producer” (whatever that means), ‘Shame On You’ sounds like she’s aiming to do for pop what the Klaxons did for indie. In other words, be shamelessly bleepy. Ah, we missed Euro-pop.
Featuring former Angels Of Mons man Stephen Robinson, the track ‘Highs And Lows’ has travelled with him in a re-recorded form. The racing refrain, which Foo Fighters fans would just scream like little girls for, will be familiar as the snippet used in the Discover Ireland ad. With the full song, you’re not missing much – the line “All these highs and lows” is repeated no less than 22 times in its two minutes, leaving room for little else.
Vesta Varro are dab hands at both foundation-quaking rockers and creepy-quiet ballads, and frontman Damien Drea’s vocals are showcased to powerful effect on this record.
Simple Kid effortlessly produces the kind of Beck-like sound that stoned hippies, stuck in their musty bedrooms with an acoustic guitar and an ounce, think they’re making.
Help She Can’t Swim's second album opens with a stripped-down, meticulous harmony that comes from the school of The Posies, before the band whip off their cover and reveal themselves to be the noisy bastards that they are.
If you want to hear how a note should be held, have an earful of Paul Linehan’s request for you to ‘goooo’. But go in a good sense, for the refrain of ‘Fight’ is that we “deserve to be happy”. Certainly the song takes you most of the way there; it’s not quite as rousing as the glorious previous release ‘Miles And Miles’ but be warned: you may find yourself embracing the nearest person to you by the time it’s finished.
The scion of Wexford rock ‘n’ roll royalty, Odi has, at the age of 26, managed to kick start a music career as well as modelling and appearing in Emmerdale.
The competition might be hotting up as the Murphy’s Live battle of the bands enters the semi-final stage, but that’s nothing compared to the temperature at Whelan’s.
Losing their keyboard player to Dirty Pretty Things and falling out of favour with their record label The Cooper Temple Clause have certainly been through the mill of late. From adversity comes strength however and the band are back with arguably their strongest album yet.
This issue, Hot Press magazine comes with a stunning cover mount CD. Here’s your track by track guide to this exclusive collectors’ item, featuring the winners and headline acts from Murphy’s Live 2007. Click here to buy the mag and get your free CD!
They’re following a blueprint set by The Cramps and the only real difference between them and Dublin underground band The Things is their proximity to A&R men. But woah, do they know how to create an atmosphere.
They got their first break when their single featured on an ad for digital cameras. Now South Africa’s The Parlotones are setting out to conquer the world.
Murphy’s Live’s tour of Ireland to find the best unsigned band has inadvertently offered me the opportunity to inspect the venues Ireland has to offer. And Limerick’s Dolan’s is right up there with the best/
Holy hell, which genius thought this up? ‘Nightjoy’ is as anthemic as it is innovative, layered as it is accessible, as easy to dance to as it is listen to. It is, in fact, a re-recorded version of the Geordie band’s first ever single, which was originally released two years ago on The Immediate’s label Fantastic Plastic. But it’s not dated a day: with Interpol-y guitars and The Automatic’s sense of urgency and melody, it’s just begging for dancefloors across the world over to be filled right this second. B-sides ‘That Pop Carry On’ and ‘Furious’ are worth a listen too, especially as they’re recorded with Justin Lockey of yourcodenameis:milo.
As fantastic and great in every way that The Rapture are, this is a third single and it shows: it’s not got the disco anthem of ‘Get Myself Into It’ or the electro-cool of ‘Whoo! Alright — Yeah... Uh Huh’. It’s the New York troupe at their most relaxed and poppiest, even containing a “na na na na” singalong bit that eases the pain for those of us who miss it from the Kaiser Chiefs’ new material. Sigh.
Putting up quite the fight for Single Of The Fortnight, ‘Radau’ is a tantalising taster from les Astronaut’s new album. With an atmosphere that builds at its own sweet pace and an eight-armed drummer causing havoc behind a simple guitar riff, GIAN again prove themselves to be at the top of their game. If this doesn’t turn the world onto left-field electro-experimental instrumentals, nothing will. I’m guessing nothing will, though.
Cheeky lads: on the sleeve of the single, they’re self-described as “one of Ireland’s premier rock bands”. They are? Because that must have been declared while I was busy listening to everyone from The Flaws to Therapy?. Still, given time, it’s not an impossible objective for Ronan Power and company. Containing the maximum riffage legally allowed, the heavier end of the rock spectrum is fully explored in the space of these three songs – from Alice In Chains-stylings on ‘Inside’ to the shadows of Nickelback on ‘Raged’ – a killer ballad which oppositely to its sound is a big, screaming siren that this is a band to watch.
Taken from his eighth – yes, eighth – album, Gemini is a slice of singer/songwriter magic that ties in nicely with the theme of this issue. It’s not going to bowl anyone over or break any musical barriers, but it’d make a great Mothers’ Day present.
Get your devil horns at the ready: as a precursor to Aerosmith heading over to Dublin in the summer, Hinder are here to remind us what a big rock anthem is all about. It couldn’t get any cheesier if it were deep fried and served with cranberry sauce – that is, until you see the video, which is basically a checklist of all things rawk. Debauched party? Check. Swimming pool? Check. Guitarist playing solo while underwear-clad girls are having a pillowfight in the background? Check. Lost the will to live? Check.
From the ashes of Red Lunacy come the excellently named Torture Artists Social Club, who describe themselves as “dirty rock with a conscience”. Well, the conscience has yet to be proven but the dirty rock is there in tractor loads. Their debut single throws in as much reference to retro acts like Free and The Black Crowes as it does to their own imagination. Shame that the great ideas in it aren’t given enough life and room to draw out their strengths – ‘ManDance’ is unnecessarily forgettable – but it’s early days for ‘em yet.
Like the person at a party who stands firmly still and expects everyone to come up to them, ‘2x1’ is an unassuming but interesting piece of acoustic work – and the rather more folky B-side ‘Lovestage’ does just as well in showing off this Dublin singer’s voice, but contains an even more modest veneer. A grower, if you have the time to spare.
Taken from his eighth – yes, eighth – album, Gemini is a slice of singer/songwriter magic that ties in nicely with the theme of this issue. It’s not going to bowl anyone over or break any musical barriers, but it’d make a great Mothers’ Day present.
Robbie Williams missed a trick! The lyrics for Fergie’s first solo single (were The Black Eyed Peas that great their members can go off and have their own solo careers?) are up there with that of ‘Rudebox’. Aside from starting the song by spelling out ‘glamorous’ (well done, Fergie), she proves how real she is by insisting: “I still go to Taco Bell/Drive-thru, raw as hell.” The music, on the other hand, was probably written by a former aide of Gwen Stefani who was fired after producing nothing but flops, and who subsequently turned to the drink and lost all hearing in a bizarre gardening accident. Then came up with this.
With ‘Starz In Their Eyes’, there were plenty of criticisms thrown at Jack Alsopp, which he deflected thanks to the quality of that song. ‘Glory Days’, however, does give grounding to the belief that he’s a poor man’s Mike Skinner or Lily Allen. This ode to cannabis is a down-tempo track which suits the spring slowly creeping up on us, put it’s not a patch on his former single, nor anything else his contemporaries have achieved.
While B-Unique just can’t quit the habit of producing shit-hot bands, they had a good stab with the average Altericks, surprisingly touted by Dermot O’Leary and Zane Lowe. Coming dangerously close to sounding like the dreaded few-blokes-in-front-of-their-instruments set up that litters musical landscapes everywhere, ‘Good Luck’ is a run-of-the-mill, inoffiensive rock track that has all the passion of a dead parrot.
The Liverpudlians have the professionalism that you’d want from a rising band, but whoever gave them their personality transplant forgot to put one back in.
Five years since The Used released their seminal, self-titled album who would have thought we’d still be entertaining records that sounded like weaker versions of it?
A new row has broken out between computer giant Apple and record labels, with IRMA boss Dick Doyle telling Apple’s Steve Jobs to “wake up and smell the coffee”.
Charlotte Hatherley doesn’t do stockings, but she would like to have it off in a thunderstorm. And she wears nothing in bed but a smile. Oh, sweet Jesus.
Like other, er, distinctive bands such as Clap Your Hands Say Yeah or Get Cape. Wear Cape. Fly., the vocal style dictates that Cold War Kids are best taken in bite-size doses.
Watching racist bullying on Celebrity Big Brother was horrific, argues Hot Press’ very own Shilpa, but that shouldn’t mean we need to become PC fascists.
Midas… I mean, Damon Albarn’s back with his second side project, though one has to give up on the idea of a Blur reformation when this new bunch of mavericks steal their niche in the market: having Albarn pay homage to his hometown of London.
Clocking in at 2.42, ‘Kingdom Of Doom’ is a simple affair which is over before you know it. Save your pennies and just buy the album.
The sister of Turn’s Ian Melady has a go for herself with debut single ‘Day In December’ (which, by the way, was released in December). It must have been a strange day in the Melady household when she played the song to her family – her voice is incredibly seductive. Still, no bad thing for anyone’s ears, and while the country/folk-tinged tune becomes slightly too repetitive by the end, it’s an incredibly promising start.
The feisty tyke is back with a song whose video was the first by a British artist to reach No. 1 on the US’s Total Request Live. While on this side of the Atlantic, the climate’s changed considerably since she left (Amy Winehouse has become wiser, people have forgotten about chavs, Lily Allen’s stolen her schtick but wears pink dresses), her grime rapping is an anti-establishment, bold statement that puts her firmly on the musical map again. To quote the young lady, “I ain’t got the biggest breastesis/But I write all the bestest hits”.
Ahead of their long-play debut, Myths Of The Near Future, comes the Londoners’ second major label single. And while ‘Magick’ was a pompous affair which, if it could talk, would have said, “Ooooh, look how kooky and different we are,” they’ve thankfully dropped that façade. ‘Golden Skans’ (what’s a ‘skan’?) is less electronic and plenty mainstream, but crucially, doesn’t sound forced. It’s vaguely reminiscent of The Killers, and perhaps paves the way they should have gone with ‘Sam’s Town’: a dark, faux-spooky affair which KOs you with killer hook after killer hook. And all this without mentioning ‘new rave’ once.
This gorgeous new release from Dublin producer Spectac comes with an original limited edition art print by Manuel Schibli (all releases on the fledgling Loaf Recordings are matched with a unique piece of art, so along with the three inch CD you get something visual for your wall). The music is a sublime and intricate conflation of skippy electronics and melodic instrumentation; synthetic horns and deep basslines meander over dancehall beats and soft organs. Another great release from one of Ireland’s most innovative acts.
Stop press! Song in rerecorded-version-better-than-original shocker! While the track from Through The Window Pane sounded like a Christmas bid for No. 1 – and we know how dire they are – they’ve beefed up the production whilst losing none of the track’s better qualities. The result is a pop song that’s as leftfield as you could get without tipping over the edge of the earth, and a fantastic choice of single.
The lady with the crème caramel voice is back, and offers a taster from her forthcoming album, Not Too Late. Such is the quality of her delivery she could sing a homage to a crusted-over bowl of porridge that would make you want do devour it – which, more or less, is what’s going on here. ‘Thinking About You’ is abysmally bland. The chorus is non-existent; it finishes before anything happens; it’s totally generic and worst of all, it fades out. That’s the type of background bumpf we’re dealing with. Were it not for her sweet, sweet voice reminding us of summer afternoons in the park, this would go straight in the bin.
Oddball Dublin artiste Nina Hynes releases this cute li’l ditty which sounds as innocent as a newly-baptised baby and just as adorable. It’s wide-eyed outlook hides the complexity of the multi-vocaled ending, which only adds to its genius.
This trio from Swords, Dublin unleash their debut EP, citing their influences as At The Drive-In, Tool, The Mars Volta and the like. None of the five tracks go into as much depth as either of those bands, but their musicianship is still something to be admired. A little work on to make the vocals more forceful and the songs more focused, and then they’re laughing.
Behind the strange stage name, Get Cape. Wear Cape. Fly’s Sam Duckworth is an old-fashioned dreamer who thinks music should say something and has little truck with blink-and-they’re-gone scenes.
Annual article: The arrival of Channel 6 was a boom – but music programming on television in 2006 was challenged by reality TV game shows and, increasingly, by YouTube.
On first impression, it’s hard to make head or tail of Deftones' Saturday Night Wrist, simply because they throw in a truckload of experimentation. Once the album’s unpicked, however, it’s a different beast altogether.
Coinciding with the news that Declan’s bagged a US deal comes the release of his new single, a poignant yet haunting affair that’s one of very few pieces of music worthy of its Jeff Buckley comparison. When he dances with the words, “When all the things you’ve ever dreamed of/Start to bleed and fall apart” (with his eyes squeezed tight shut with emotion no doubt), you know you’re on to something special. With any luck, America won’t know what hit it.
Jay Kay’s announced that after his forthcoming greatest hits package, from which this single derives, he’ll be taking a year off. While he’s as unlikely to spend that time thinking of a way to progress the very same formula he used back in 1994 for ‘Space Cowboy’ as he is going for quiet Sunday drives, the former is most definitely needed. ‘Runaway’ reeks of something thrown out just for a quick buck. Rather like that greatest hits package.
If it’s on B-Unique, home of the Kaiser Chiefs and The Automatic, it’s likely to be okay-to-amazing, and Alterkicks don’t disappoint. ‘On A Holiday’ is, oddly enough, a hybrid of The Kooks and Morrissey, taking the former’s retro sensibilities and the latter’s veiled mournfulness. Thus, all the stops are in place for these Liverpudlians to be huuuuge.
The most famous Led Zeppelin/ACDC cover band in the west grant us a sixth single from their eponymous debut album, which tells us a delightful story about – yes – a joker and a thief. Fans will know what to expect.
After Ms Furtado’s disappointing attempt to join the generic territory of Timbaland collaborators with ‘Maneater’ and ‘Promiscuous Girl’, it’s good to know he hasn’t completely beaten out of her the very thing that makes her unique. Though he’s still behind the glass wall for this, and it shows by being interchangeable with any old claptrap in the charts, ‘All Good Things’ displays Furtado’s honey-sweet voice in all its glory. It would have been interesting to hear its original form, with Chris Martin from Coldplay guest-starring, but alas, the record company gods intervened.
How anyone can base an entire song on the merits of a lady’s rear end, I’ll never know. Or at least I didn’t until America’s newest urban export told us about a gentlewoman “who looked better from behind”. There’s plenty of similar sleazy lyrics involved, all set to a silky smooth R’n’B beat that’s ideal for bumping and grinding in underground sweaty clubs where hormones are flying about the place. Though not literally, we hope.
Imagine the scene: It’s 3.50am, Chamillionaire’s track has just finished playing at an underground sweaty club. The house lights rise to induce the clubbers’ squints, and rising from the speakers is ‘The Idiots’, the last track of the night, and a perfect accompaniment to the meeting of lips (for those with partners) and eyes across the dancefloor (for those without). Shame its refrain is the less romance-inducing ‘drunk in the middle of a doughnut shop”.
The winter nights may very well be marching into the middle of winter days, what’s needed, then, is another sunny choon from the land that bought us Peter, Bjorn and John and their bona fide hit of the summer ‘Young Folks’. Sweden. So we have a blast of unadulterated alt power pop, along the lines of The Posies, The Thrills, Lilys, and Redd Kross. Retrotastic stuff.
Mr David Couse releases the third single off The World Should Know and it has the potenial to garner him lots of radio play, with a chorus that really likes the word ‘Celebration’. Long standing fans will be more interested to hear what’s actually the third re-recording of A House’s ‘Endless Art’, in which he reels off a brand new list of those who are “all dead, yet still alive”. Delivered with a softer approach on this occasion, he pays tribute to the likes of Dermot Morgan, Ella Fitzgerald and Hunter S Thompson.
For those who like their indie on the flavoursome side, Rosemary are a perfect ingredient. Following on from the likes of Larrikin Love and Mystery Jets, it’s a jaunty, quirky affair which picks up where the Essex boys’ debut single ‘Suburban Kings’ left off. A welcome addition to the rising new talent coming from across the waters.
As the flagship DJ for the newly-launched Dublin indie station Phantom FM, Edel Coffey is undoubtedly dripping with cool. Yet her friends can cast their minds back to the days when her fashion taste was… well, let’s say, misguided.
If anyone finds Juliette Lewis possibly the most annoying person in punk rock history (and it takes a good deal to beat any of Bowling For Soup), Glasweigan all-girl group The Hedrons are most suitable alternative. In ‘I Need You’, the second single preceding album One More Won’t Kill Us, there’s the same spunky attitude, bass-heavy three chord punk and throat-ripping vocals, but sans the want-to-kill-her factor. Which is always a bonus.
After the right amount of time perfecting their craft, The Gorgeous Colours release their debut single proper, in the form of live favourite ‘Burning’. Coming off like a version of Neil Young that modern day lo-fi lovers will adore, it’s full of textures, memorable to say the least and if we’re blunt, genius summed up in four and a half minutes. Two thumbs up and a big grin on top.
Even if you’ve seen Doris live just the once, you’ll be familiar with ‘Stop’ – it’s the one with the synth riff going doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo throughout. The running hook not only gives the song its unique quality, but in doing so it betters their previous single ‘Will I Ever Learn’ (included in video form here, having taken part in Hot Press’s competition to have it made by the Tisch School of Arts). All they need now is to pack a bit more punch and they’ll be at the head of their game.
Over a hundred acts took part in the annual Hard Working Class Heroes event in Dublin last weekend. While the standard wasn’t uniformly impressive, a number of new contenders emerged who might ultimately be capable of lifting the rock’n’roll crown...
Vegetarians were once dismissed as long-haired lay-abouts too busy thinking up new ways of mistreating lentils to hold down a job. Nowadays, however, vegetarianism has gone mainstream. To mark Vegetarian Awareness Month, Hot Press asked some famous veggies about the benefits, and sacrifices, of a no-meat diet.
Oh wow, I think I’m going to cry with joy. This is a song I want to get married to and have babies with. Northampton’s New Cassettes provide us with a dancefloor anthem for their first release, employing falsettos, the mother of all thumping basslines, and uncomplicated melodies to make our lives just that bit better. Judging by their other tracks on MySpace, this may be the cream of their crop, but it’ll keep us sweet for a long while yet.
How does one go about reviewing the Warlords Of Pez? To say anything serious about the offbeat rockers’ musical merit is as pointless as trying to get a sensible answer out of Ricky Gervais: there are some challenges in life you just shouldn’t attempt. Suffice to say, both tracks from their debut single are completely INSANE and ‘Monster Voice’ may very well be the funniest song ever. Brilliant.
We should know by now that everything Beck does is drowned in genius. The first track from the Nigel Godrich-produced The Information is so intellectually assured that it double-bluffs us, and cunningly is nothing more than some cool-as-fuck rapping over some funky beats. Ho ho ho – crazy Beck, pretending to be all average and follow the path he’s trodden before. We know better though: this is art.
Now when we say that this single was long-awaited, we certainly mean it: with the exception of 2005’s odds’n sods Souvenirs collection, it’s been six years since the Cork trio committed anything to plastic. If ‘Miles and Miles’ wasn’t weighed down with so much expectation, you might deem it a humdinger of a record – it certainly sounds amazing on radio, the crescendo in the chorus drilling into the core of your brain. But I have an odd feeling of having somehow expected more. And no, I can’t quite explain it either.
London’s electro-rockers mark the special edition release of We Are Not The Infadels by releasing the fifth –yes, fifth – single from the album. And rather than sounding like warmed-over dregs, it’s actually a catchy little number, using monotone to its benefit while cribbing some moves from New Order. Better still, the bleepy cover of ‘Steady As She Goes’ is worth the sticker price alone.
They might be one of the most hard-working bands in Ireland at the moment, but sadly that doesn’t necessarily translate to being great on record. The Longford natives are competent songwriters of cheery pop gems with just a hint of dark undertones about them (though they’re nothing like the death metal band I’d once anticipated from their name!). Unfortunately, it’s spoiled by Johnny Cronin’s vocals, which to me come across like an overzealous attempt to take off Edwyn Collins. But hey, ‘distinctive’ vocals never stopped Clap Your Hands Say Yeah…
Poor Amy, returning at the height of Lily fever. Comparisons will of course be inevitable, both being feisty females stirring the music world up in more ways than one, but the similarities end there. ‘Rehab’ is a smooth, jazzy track signatured by the line “They tried to make me go to rehab but I said no, no no” (its effect diluted by the fact that she eventually caved in). Wonderful stuff.
Available to download on bandwagon.ie is Bill Coleman’s taster from forthcoming album I’ll Tear My Own Walls Down. As as morsels go, you wouldn’t exactly spit it out – that would just be rude for something which is just so nice (it even has xylophones, it’s that lovely). But it could do with a little more spice to differentiate it from all the other endearing, downloadable songs out there.
If the Single Of The Fortnight accolade were all about promise, St Julien would have been up there. Because, while the Dublin foursome’s debt to the Beach Boys’ is a little too obvious, their debut single shows that they’ve got proper songwriting chops. And boy, can they sing.
Mullingar’s finest release a single that’s not exactly in the ‘Trouble’ or ‘Miss Fantasia Preaches’ league of catchy pop-punk. But rest assured – it contains their trademark harmonies and witty wordplay, and bounces along like a pogostick on a trampoline. It’ll no doubt keep their growing legion of fans placated while the new album makes its way into record shops. But it’s worth pointing out they’re capable of better than this.
The Kildare alt-indie group unleash their debut single, and even though it sounds as if it was recorded in their bedroom with an Alba hi-fi, if you look past the production values (it was paid for by their hard-earned money, after all), there’s plenty going on. With ‘Messed Up’, you get the impression that they’re not interested in following any trend. That said, they’ve a rhythmic stance similar to Republic Of Loose in ‘Toe To Toe’, which is actually no bad thing.
The common thread isn’t only the atmospherics and Keith Mullins’ gorgeously lackadaisical vocals. More importantly – and worryingly - it’s a distinct lack of punch, the very same problem that means the listener’s not so much knocked out as tapped on the shoulders politely.
You didn’t know that we had a financial guru in the house – well, we have! Here’s a handy guide to saving €50 a week – just so you can squander it elsewhere!
Cormac Battle has escaped the clutches of Dublin’s vilest landlords, and now spends his days watching 24-hour news channels and enjoying his luxury mattress. He can explain the Sandy Thom CD, really.
2006 seems to be the Chinese year of the side project, what with Broken Social Scene, James Dean Bradfield, The Raconteurs, Thom Yorke and now this second album from Queens Of The Stone Age frontman Josh Homme – or ‘Baby Duck’ as his alter ego dictates.
After more than four years together, Cork octet Cartoon finally unleash the album to prove that despite their joke name and the light-hearted nature of the title, Christ they mean business.
When Lucan band The Riptide set off on a recce mission to the States, the last thing they expected was a seven hour ordeal at the hands of US immigration control officials in Dublin Airport.
If one of the most respected musicians in Scotland (Roddy) decides that being in a dripping cool rock band (Idlewild) is momentarily dull and turns his creative attentions to the anti-rock (folk music), it’s only right that his hired team comprise of the best in the business (Kate Rusby, Dave Burlinton, and Michael McGoldrick).
Sodding everything else, the debut album from Welsh wonders The Automatic is worth buying for the single ‘Recover’ alone, possibly the best indie dancefloor anthem since ‘Song 2’ by Blur shattered eardrums everywhere.
Presenter of Channel 6's Night Shift, an air hostess and a model, Michelle Doherty is rarely found at home... but that doesn't stop her from showing us around her Drumcondra abode.
Commuting to Dublin makes life a pain for Geoff McArdle of The Gorgeous Colours. Still, it will take more than a few late buses to ruin his dreams of pop stardom
One of the first and finest guitar-free indie bands realise that making a second album with the same gimmick would be equivalent to continuing to argue a point when the conversation’s moved on and they’d already won. So their comeback single starts off with a teasing riff of U2 proportions before it’s engulfed by the Keane we know and love. The passion, gusto and singable chorus puts them in the running for band of the summer, and it’s only May.
Currently being ousted in the ‘70s flare-rock stakes by Wolfmother, The Answer are back to reclaim their territory with this funky track from their debut album, Rise. Paying, ahem, intense homage to Led Zeppelin and Black Sabbath, the foursome present an explosive, confident front, founded by some serious rock’n'roll and a guitar solo that would do Black Sabbath’s Tommy Iommi proud.
Ah, Taking Back Sunday: the quintessential emo band, right down to the meaningless name. Arguably, their 2002 debut Tell All Your Friends was Generation X’s shift in the evolutionary trail that began with Fugazi, mutated to Jimmy Eat World, and after TBS, spawned malformed acts like Panic! At The Disco that dominate the alternative scene today.
Dublin’s Stone Ocean are unmistakably, 100%, no-doubt-about-it, alt rock. Much in the way that Queens Of The Stone Age are, and there’s no other words to describe them so accurately.
They’re back! And they’re still harping on about California!
Early fans will be disappointed to learn that in telling the story of Ms California, “a runner, rebel and a stunner”, they’re continuing down the middle of the road that they seem to like so much, leaving their days of edgy funk rock well behind. So much so that poor guitarist John Frusciante is left doing a cover version of ‘Sweet Home Alabama’ in the background while the rest of the band plod along behind Anthony Kiedis’s isolated enthusiasm. A new low for them? Quite possibly.
Anyone who’s familiar with the internet’s funniest site, popjustice.com, will know they’ve taken Norwegian alt-pop group Lorraine under their wing in a fierce way. Despite the website’s insistence, there remains a distinct possibility it might not be the best track to have ever existed. It actually comes across as akin to fellow Scandie group Kent, what with their atmospherics and languid singing, while there’s distinct hints of the Pet Shop Boys in the bones of the song’s structure. We’ll concede to this though: it’s the catchiest track from this fortnight’s bunch.
I haven’t seen the finished copy of the single, but if doesn’t come out with a sticker which says: ‘Debut single from the winner of RTE’s You’re A Star competition’, it will take all of the fun out of being just able to guess it from the faux-emotive lyrics which fit and rhyme effortlessly (literally), the big chorus where the strings come in, and the long, held note at the end. My Lord, she does a better job of reviving the '80s than the reformation of Culture Club, A-Ha and a broken Rubik’s Cube you found in the attic. Does she wear a peach, shoulder-padded dress in the video too?
There’s no way anyone can sing ‘stupid’ without sounding so themselves, as proved by our favourite stony-faced duo. But it’s forgiven as it’s inspired by the playground friendship of George Bush and Tony Blair, hilariously enough. Their return single has all the punch that would be expected from fans who’ve been salivating at the mere thought of it, though it’s a typical PSB tune without any surprises, along the lines of ‘Go West’. It’s great to have them back.
It’s fair to say that Killiney native Colm Lynch is entering a hugely crowded market of singer/songwriters, but his debut major-label single indicates that Damien Rice et al might be able to squeeze out just a little more.
With only some impressive guitar work and haunting string section accompanying his not-too-tamed voice ‘The Storm’ could very well be known as the single that came out just before his killer song. Let’s just hope he has said killer song up his sleeve.
The former Eurovision entrant Chris Doran returns with a Don Mescall-penned song, and it’s the meeting of two similar-thinking minds. In that their thoughts were of Ronan Keating, Richard Curtis rom coms, cute puppies, and whatever else is required in making turgid love songs. It’s unfortunate it missed the Mother’s Day rush, but it may just have enough generic appeal to make an mighty impression on the charts anyway. Shame on us.
With Kayne West setting a new standard for urban music it’s no surprise that Mr J’s comeback single has seen him lean towards a more inventive style. The minimalist combination of tribal bass drum and strong beat are terrific at conjuring up an image of a sweaty nightclub and the thrill of a chase, while the vocal interplay between LL and guest temptress Jennifer Lopez is only aided by some slutty lyrics: “You know I know you like it/Let me hit you on your Sidekick[eh?]/Because the afterparty is at my body/Meet me you’re invited”.
After making a formidable dent in Dublin’s live music scene, Channel One release a one-off single with Polydor offshoot Sound Foundation. With ‘Accelerate, Brake’ they opt for a gothic take on electronic/rock, a la mid-career Depeche Mode.
And with the indiebleep genre all the rage these days thanks to The Modern, The Faint et al, there ne’er was a better time for the five-piece to be bumped to that level higher.
On Planet Punk, there’s a hemisphere of a difference between Hüsker Dü and Busted, but it’s exactly equidistant of the two where Reekus-signed band SuperJimenez have spread out their kit. ‘Helicopters’, the Dubliners’ debut single, has enough spunk to avoid it being fobbed off as a throwaway pop record, yet bounces along like the radio-friendly tune that Mr Mould never wrote. And given that summer’s slowly slowly approaching, the single’s a perfect soundtrack to those first visits to Howth and lunchtimes in St Stephen’s Green. Cheerful stuff.
Damn you, Jack White, why do you have to seep talent through every pore that graces your seemingly flawless self? With The Raconteurs, the man with the Midas touch puts The White Stripes on hold and teams up with pals singer/songwriter Brendan Benson and members of The Greenhornes.
On the face of it, it’s a simple little track with an indie swagger that makes you feel like the coolest person in class just for listening to it. But, in fact, the arrangements, vocal and otherwise, are a work of intricate genius. How we look forward to their debut album, Broken Boy Soldiers.
There’s something so cathartic about listening to a noisy, shouty single. And Christ knows we haven’t had many of them for a while, as anyone with cool hair turns their attention towards The Kooks, Babyshambles or other indie, swing-your-pants bands. Whilst keeping their mosh-factor to the fore, Norwich’s Cord layer on the guitar generously, and vocalist James Leeds doesn’t even care whether he sings precisely in tune, such is their desire to rock out. The downside? It may have a touch of the mid ‘90s about it, but you can’t have everything.
Uh-oh, has the barrage of sub-standard Arctic Monkeys bands with about three iotas of originality between them already begun? Apparently, yes. That it’s even called ‘Send In The Boys’ shows how desperately they’re blueprinting themselves of the Monkeys, even copying them to the point of hailing from Sheffield. Cheeky! And instead of being embarrassed about it, what do the Monkeys do? Only invite them as support for their European tour. Well, at least they won’t be shown up.
While their post-Troublegum days have seen Therapy?’s commercial fortunes decline, fewer people than justice demands realise it’s at a rate that’s converse to the increase in quality [pushes glasses back up].
It’s approaching the Easter weekend, and there’s signs that Dublin’s about to be invaded, but this time the troops come from the west rather than the east, and in the form of an onslaught of Mullingar maidens whose weaponary includes heels, beers, and ear-piercing cheers.
It’s hard to believe, we know, but occasionally Dave Fanning likes to put his feet up and switch off from the outside world. Who would have thought, though, that he’d have such an interest in kitchen renovation?
After a rocky road to stardom, The Vines end recent successful studio time to release Vision Valley. This is not just a return to form, it’s the happy ending that a story like thiers cries out for.
Aslan's Billy McGuinness grew up on Dublin's northside. Now, he's living in the sticks loving every minute of it – especially when friends call around for karaoke.
Thankfully for the boys, they’ve another chance to redeem themselves and have learned the error of their ways: instead of repeating old mistakes they’ve gone and made a whole set of new ones.
The Moz is back! Again! ‘You Have Killed Me’ has been available on his myspace page since early February, acting as a taster from his forthcoming album, Ringleader Of The Tormentors. But with its official CD release, we can confirm that it’s typical of Morrissey’s modern-day mettle, being an uplifting yet brooding affair which pays particular focus to the strength of the chorus. Fingers crossed the rebirth he’s just enjoyed is safe for another round.
It’s remarkable that Carickmacross’s The Flaws can produce something so mature and confident with their first proper release. ‘No Room’ is majestic, with its understated verses providing a launchpad from which frontman Paul Finn can soar to spectacular heights in the chorus.
In another life, he would be holding those epic notes all the way to the final of The X Factor. But such a waste doesn’t bear thinking about.
If political philosophers needed proof that man is inherently prejudiced, they need only consider about how one would expect a band called The Chakras to sound. The mental image of skinny white hippies whipping out a guitar to show appreciation to rainclouds and nature-at-large is all too compelling.
But it takes all of the first two notes of their debut single to throw that idea out the window and litter the street with it. In fact, it’s as indie as they come, sounding like Ireland’s take of The Kooks. No bad starting point.
After ‘Ever Blazin’ and ‘We Be Burnin’, releasing ‘Temperature’ implies that, instead of concentrating on his bling, he’s fixated by his environmental heat. This comes as no surprise, really – he’s in Third Single Hell after all. See, ‘Temperature’ is trademark Sean Paul, but crucially lacking his former bite and confidence. While his dancehall reggae is still far from a cliché, elevating this album track to the status of a single may prove to be a bad move.
Another A-list act returning to the scene after a notable absence – three whole years, in the Bristol band’s case. Dare we hope that they’ve spent this time creating something as mesmerizing as ‘Teardrop’ or ‘Unfinished Symphony’?
Sadly ‘Live With Me’ doesn’t quite make that league, even though it’s as laidback as they come, with vocal goodness from folk/jazz legend Terry Callier and a whole string section to boot.
But no, my crystal ball has already seen the future and says this won’t go down in history as one of their finest moments. Although, it’s on their forthcoming best of album, so technically, I’m already wrong.
Birr’s Alan Roe, aka Roesy, returns with a simple, sing-a-long single, recorded with Ken McHugh of Autamata fame. Such is Roesy’s ear for a good tune, this seems specifically born to be played on the radio as you head to the countryside for a long sun-drenched afternoon. It’s a celebratory, warm ditty which implies good things for the album it’s taken from, Colour Me Colourful.
Having overcome their self-imposed mountain of a name to prove themselves worthy of our attention, ‘St Christopher’ finds the Kells band in a rather serene mood, with mid-tempo monotony highlighting their Sunday feeling. The girl/boy vocal interplay between front people Niamh and Podge isn’t as chilling in its juxtaposition here as Mark Lanegan’s and Isobel Campbell’s – but it’s early days yet.
Once again, Mick Pyro and co have created a song which sounds a million miles from anything we might have anticipated.
It’s as if they heard some old funk records, and decided to recreate them – but using gratuitous swear words and as many random instruments as they could carry.
It’s a rather bizarre lead track from the Dubliners’ second album – crazy, but oddly impressive.
Hailing from the mid-west of the States, Koufax have marked out their niche in the crowded market of rock.
Coming across as Supergrass covering Elvis Costello, the cherry on the cake is Robery Suchan’s vocals, which contains an amusing faux-English accent.
Sadly the urgent, call-to-action tones of ‘Why Bother At All’ sit uncomfortably with the lyrics, which are all about the apathy. However, as an entry point for their album Hard Times Are In Fashion, it does its job admirably.
Don’t you hate it when you become famous and pulling girls just doesn’t hold that challenge anymore? So you go for celebrity girls and find yourself quaking like an acne ridden fool again? Mike Skinner does. The first offering from the similarly-themed LP The Hardest Way To Make An Easy Living, ‘When You Wasn’t Famous’ (for that’s the title what it were given), is as packed to the rafters with Skinner’s witty couplets as we’ve come to expect. What’s progressed is the breadth of his musical scope, with some calypso action giving the track a Lilt-friendly feel. A welcome return.
The second single to be lifted from Half These Songs Are About You, ‘Girls’ was never going to match the simplistic genius of the ‘The JCB Song’. Though it holds its own visually (the video is a stroke of Karni’s and Saul’s genius), it drops the ball in terms of hummabilitiy. Still, John Hammond’s vocals are as easy to fall in love with as ever – he sings with a raw passion and his distinctive accent implies there are no concessions to anyone here.
Tonight, Jack Johnson plays for over two fun-filled hours. It speaks volumes for the quality of his show that it flits by as quickly as his rise to superstardom, and leaves a trail of converts in its wake.
If you listen to the first half of ‘Burning Benches’ whilst remembering that they supported Coldplay in Marlay Park last year, one may form the impression that these Mancunians are a weak version of a drippy act. But it soon builds up into a furious, fast-paced jam, complete with gravelly vocals that Chris Martin couldn’t match with a duty-free allowance-worth of cigarettes.
If Morning Runner are this diverse at their fourth single, where will their fifth take them? Stay tuned to their channel.
It’s called ‘Make Her Cry’! And it’s released on Valentine’s Day! That would have been a stroke of evil genius, if the full lyric hadn’t gone “Tell her it’s a lie before you make her cry”.
While it’s not the cynical call-to-arms the jilted among us may have hoped for, the Dublin trio’s debut release on Vertigo is, most definitely, one hell of a choon. Its harmonies are imported fresh from California, while frontman Michael John’s vocal style is a more palatable version of the uniqueness that’s championed by Clap Your Hands Say Yeah. Power pop at its most delectable.
With folk music entertaining a possible resurgence thanks to Nizlopi, here’s an artist with the potential to follow suit. Making this a double A-side is a smart move by a smart guy, with ‘Marrakech’ being a tune you’d bring out for a good old (possibly drunken) sing-song.
‘Belly of The Earth’, on the other hand, reveals a more sombre and passionate element to Noelie, and might be played to accompany the bad kind of drinking.
It’s a solid offering, and his imminent seven-date Irish tour should prove his full worth.
If there’s one thing LA’s Dilated Peoples are good at, it’s coming up with a killer lead track to celebrate their return. You wonder how you ever managed to fill up the time in between. And while this doesn’t exactly knock all their previous work for six, ‘Back Again’, produced by The Alchemist, has enough of a laidback vibe and entertaining lyrics (“Back, for the very fourth time”) to ensure that yup, we did miss their hip-hop selves.
The Goddess of dinner party music is back, and while the phrase “and better than ever” would fit quite nicely here, it’s sadly inappropriate. The lead track from Comfort From Strangers displays Beth’s gloriously imperfect voice and an ebbing and flowing string section. But her knack for teasing out that killer hook – as found on past hits like ‘Concrete Sky’ – has all but disappeared.
It can barely be called a Mocrac track when their most significant contribution was employing Cathy Davey as guest vocalist. She plucks what’s essentially an ordinary, twee song and elevates it to a much higher plane, making it worthy of its status as the lead track for Tara Road, the Irish flick starring Andie McDowell.
Poised between the understated electro-sounds of LCD Soundsystem and the playfulness of The Chalets, London’s Hot Chip have struck gold with the lead single from new album The Warning. Like its name implies, the track makes an art out of monotony. There are no inspiring middle eights or climatic finishes. Instead, the same mid-tempo beats are slowly drummed into our heads, before its subtle end, when we wake up from our trance, dust ourselves off and walk away, oddly content.
While ‘Burn’ is nothing more than a mediocre offering from an underwhelming album (Crimson), what saves it from the dumper is the myriad of remixers that have their way with the track.
Tim Armstrong (Rancid, The Transplants) takes ska to its logical conclusion by introducing steel drums and a reggae beat, with astounding results. Sheffield noisemongers 65daysofstatic throw all sorts of craziness into the equation when they get their turn, and they too come up with a work of modern art.
Test Icicles slow (and dull) it down, but as Meatloaf once said, two out of three ain’t bad.
This New York/Dublin band have managed to cause a small stir at Irish music industry showcases. While their live performances might be another matter altogether, the mediocre status of ‘Darkest Day’ leaves the trio in danger of fading into the background with many other decent rock bands who come up with an interesting riffs and rousing choruses.
There’s a bigger song in them – but let’s just hope they rummage hard enough to find it.
Where did Cornershop go with the Anglo/Indian sounds they did so well? Well, let me tell you. In 2003, they began making an film about London’s independent music industry, and ‘Wop The Groove’ is the soundtrack to this.
It needs little imagination to guess quite correctly how such a piece of music might sound. But to throw a spanner into the works, it’s X Factor ‘star’ Rowetta providing vocals. The weirdest thing is that she doesn’t even ruin it.
He’s officially your favourite international male artist and songwriter, according to the last issue’s readers poll. And Josh Ritter’s working goddamn hard to ensure the accolades are merited. This is a thigh-slapping country-tinged affair that even has a ‘na na’ chorus in it. It’s impossible to resist its cheery charms, so don’t even try.
Like, whatever about the track – it’s an honourable stab by 12-year-old Dubliner Kirstie McCarthy at emulating Eminem and all – but when Kriss Kross were falling over trying to get themselves into their dungarees backwards to appear on TOTP singing ‘Jump’, she was minus three. Minus three! Imagine being born in 1994, the very year that Blur released ‘Girls and Boys’. Wow.
Instrumental rock is a notoriously difficult genre to enter, given that a band is relying solely on their playing ability and compositional skills to win their way into people’s affections. At its most imaginative and masterful, as with 65daysofstatic and Mogwai, it can be glorious, feeding into the listener’s psyche in a way that is close to alchemy. With their debut, Ten Past Seven don’t manage that difficult task – or at least for me they don’t.
Any band that’s brave enough to change direction when they’d already got it right deserves respeck at the very least, and Liverpool’s The Open are definitely of that ilk. With their debut album The Silent Hours being critically acclaimed but invariably likened to Echo And The Bunnymen or early Stone Roses, God bless them for coming back with something more diverse.
It’s a rags to riches fairytale of Disney proportions, but winning the overall prize in the Global Battle of the Bands contest, a world tour and E85,000 is just part of Kopek’s story.
The vital stats: four members, four beautiful though not necessarily new born children between them, nine songs, 23 minutes long – including the seven-minute closer. And 100% garage rock.
The voice of a new generation? A poor man’s Kaiser Chiefs? The band from the Lifestyle Sports ad? However one views the Staines phenomenon that is Hard-Fi, you can’t argue with a performance that sells out months in advance.
With two of the three main acts up for the Meteor Awards for Hope of 2006, it’s fair to say that the air of excitement about tonight isn’t merely that reserved for an everyday gig in the capital.
Tabloid fame came knocking for Audio Fiction when their drummer rescued Drew Barrymore from a New York bar brawl. Their smokey indie-dance is worth making fuss over too.
Legendary venue The Grove will be playing host to their long-running alternative disco over the Xmas period, and while the first date is sold out, they've managed to squeeze in a second night.
It seems that Mike’s got a chip or two on his shoulder, and his heavies – including members of The Roots, Cypress Hill and Jay-Z, who is “executive producer” – are on hand to right a few wrongs that would be too personal to mention in his Linkin Park overalls. If it passed the quality bar. Which it doesn’t.
To transform the intimacy of his records into an entertainment show is some task, but one which Ireland’s favourite Welshman has improved on as the years go on, simply because more material equals rich pickings: those less suited to shared appreciation can be dropped.
After two years of constant touring, Welsh songstress Jem is fed up with hotels and soundchecks and can’t wait to get back to writing new songs. Now wonder she’s in little humour for small talk.
With plenty of urban anfums contained in their follow up to Ego War, one could draw a comparison with The Streets, but that wouldn’t take into account the worryingly large spectrum of beats, samples, tempos, layers and kitchen sinks musicmeister Tom Dinsdale uses on Generation.
It’s probably not the most cerebrally challenging album in world history, but what they lack in slow-burning substance, they make up for in serotonin-inducing, anthemic treats that you crave when you should be on a strict diet of Bob Dylan and Arcade Fire.
Its real beauty comes when the effort is made to tunnel further down. The songs you were tempted to skip first become familiar, then recognisable, then at a point only hindsight will reveal, become shining examples of subtle magnificence, however much you’re loath to admit a change of heart.
Along with the music, beer and scoffing, there was some serious talking done at the Electric Picnic. Shilpa Ganatra was taking notes as The Chalets, Flaming Lips, JJ72, Bob Mould, James Blunt, Tommy Tiernan, Declan O’Rourke and The Devlins were subjected to a public grilling by the Hot Press journalistic elite. And John Walshe.
While their fortunes may have faded since Jamiroquai last swung on by in 2001, there’s no sign of it in The Point tonight, the very venue they previously visited.
Oddly enough, the best thing about ‘Devil’ is that it sounds nothing like the Stereophonics are supposed to. It’s arena-sized rock, sure, but it’s edgy, full of filthy attitude and would beat up ‘Mr Writer’ good and proper were they to cross paths.
As the loud part of its quiet-loud-quiet formula, the chorus is a particularly storming element, with its forceful guitars able to drown out the noise of disbelievers.
Tackling the compelling subject matter of, er, oral pleasure, Franz are back with a vengeance and a single of the same standard as ‘Take Me Out’, but crucially, without the self-consciousness.
Instead, they’re having bags of fun and it can’t help but rub off. Though there’s little more than an insanely bouncy and kitsch melody, the simplistic take guarantees it a place on the indie dancefloor for years to come. We’re so lucky.
One would believe it’s Neil Hogan's sworn duty to capture the aural affections of late 20s couples who own semi-detached houses and wear beige clothes. ‘Run Wild’, which features Shania Twain soundalike Alexandra Hemende on vox, is a purpose-written single with a silky, soaring chorus which tries so hard to be nice that its effect is the opposite. It’s terrible. Not the best example of his ingenuity.
Very odd to think that these tracks were originally recorded 16 years ago. But now they’ve resurfaced to mark the release of the both Songs For Swinging Celibates and Charm & Arrogance on CD. And they still hold their own: quirky works as well now as it did then. However, while fans who have worn away their cassettes will consider this a godsend, the momentous occasion is sadly unlikely to earn the cult Galway act a new generation of followers.
For a band who have influenced Coldplay so heavily, Manchester’s Elbow have never benefited much from the resulting scene.
And while this is neither distinctive nor spectacular enough to suggest their forthcoming album will cause a change, it at least shows Coldplay have some good taste. ‘Forget Myself’ is a grower of a track; given time its mainstream indie-pop powers fully kick into action and unfurl into a worry-free, enjoyable three-and-a-half minutes.
Fast becoming as chameleonic as our Madge, Ms Stefani’s guise has changed again, and this is her version of ‘Don’t Tell Me’: a mid-tempo pedestrian affair that fades in as unremarkably as it fades out. In the context of her album, it gives the listener some much-needed time to catch their breath, but fire the suit who thought it would make for a blistering single.
Now that has to be the best title ever bestowed on a song. Ever. The utter genius continues when you listen to it too. Like a catch-up with an absent friend, it only takes the first minute to become reacquainted with The Cardigan’s hip and laid-back attitude – perfect for driving to – and in the second minute it dawns how much you’ve missed those Swedish muckers. Commercially, it’s nothing on the same scale as ‘My Favourite Game’ but boy, it’s good to have them back.
The opening track from the Belgian rockers’ second LP, the Josh Homme-produced Paradisiac, kicks off with an understated swirl of bass-heavy drumming, riffage to the max and crazed electronic distortion before the climactic chorus proves them to be a version of Soundgarden introduced to the complex ways of the noughties.
Sadly, Tim Vanhamel’s sound isn’t so much a voice as an unprojected whisper, but given time they could prove to be something very special.
Gusty atmospherics and a driving melody are the order of the day with Dublin’s Ginseng, one of the many bands to grace the Hard Working Class Heroes festival. Sadly, they seem to realise the Verve-esque chorus line is the only part going for the title track and thus repeat it ad infinitum. Like a funny joke told over and over again, it quickly turns from entertaining to tedious.
The imp returns with a second album at the end of September, and if this lead single is anything to go by, it’s not going to be astoundingly different from the ground-breaking Twentysomething. It’s tame jazz, big choruses and funky interludes – which continues to be a pleasure for those who dig his thing.
I think Kings Of Leon must like the Pixies. With the headline act, rock couldn’t be any cooler, even with Kim Deal in your mum’s pink jumper and beige trousers. But for the newly-shorn KOL, the same nonchalance hasn’t worked out quite the way they planned
It’s easy to scoff at one-trick ponies, but what happens when the one trick is particularly nifty? Consider Louis XIV, who hark back to the days of T-Rex and Bowie.
When a band have been going 10 years, there’s only a certain number of variables that can keep a gig exciting – both for the audience as well as for themselves.
In the 10 years they’ve been together, A have gone through their collective, if delayed, puberty. Ignoring the fact that we’re still waiting for Jason Perry’s unique voice to break, they’ve gotten over their monkey obsession, stopped wearing schoolboy-type shorts, and have only just successfully avoided singing about how yukky it is to kiss girls.
Bless them, they try. It barely seems to matter that there’s not one original second on here. The band has seemingly stolen the discarded notes of every student indie/rock band doing the rounds in the late '90s.
With a quiet-loud-quiet formula and the repeated line: “There’s a hundred good reasons for the choices I’ve made” it’s all a little inane. But hell, a small dose of rip-roaring guitar never hurt anyone, except maybe the people in the resulting moshpit.
The Welsh wonders are back with some more madcap behaviour. ‘Lazer Beam’ is full of the infectious hooks, random sounds and innovative thinking we’ve come to associate with them, but presented in an understated manner this time. As a taster for the much-anticipated Love Kraft LP, it confirms that their quirky sounds have been sorely missed, even though their seat’s been kept warm by the Scissor Sisters. They can go home now.
Bet she’s not so sore she lost out to Donna and Joseph McCaul now, eh? While You’re A Star, for which she made the last 10, probably did a lot for her confidence and profile, a gimmicky start to Sinead’s career probably wasn’t the best idea given that debut ‘Finally…’ demonstrates that she’s a serious musician.
There’s no denying she’s off to join the rather crowded ranks of female singer-songwriters that might as was well morph into one giant Alanis Morrisette. But with a voice as spunky as hers, there’s every chance she can hold her own.
Coming from the laziest, sunniest album to hit the streets in the long while, it’s only right that ‘Over And Over’ deserves plenty of airplay this season.
The languid vocals and mellow acoustic guitars transport you to a distant somewhere in the middle of nowhere. It probably actively lowers your heart pace too. Still not a patch on anything they released when they first came about, but that’s a gripe about the band rather than this single.
The Meteor award on her mantlepiece - for Best Irish Female no less - might explain why the melancholy’s hidden behind an upbeat melody in the lead track, a strong single despite being the fourth from Season of the Hurricane. Backing song ‘The Girl With The Smile’ is barely worth bothering with, being a nondescript slowie, but that’s what they’re generally there for.
At this moment, there’s probably a million musical acts out there, overlapping generously with each other.
But you can guarantee that not one of them will sound anything like Lieselle. It’s the quirky move that PJ Harvey never made, or Karen O when she’s not digging to be as underground as possible. It’s damn exciting.
What good would summer be, if it weren’t accompanied by a soundtrack of optimistic four-pieces from British university towns going all retro on our ass with their jangly guitar pop?
It wouldn’t be good at all, is the answer. It might be filled with some more meaningful music that wasn’t uninhibitedly derivative.
But, who can dance like an idiot in the park to The Mars Volta? This is why it’s okay for The Dodgems to exist, but for the summer only.
Whatever your views on Oasis, there’s no denying that their singles are instant anthems. ‘The Importance of Being Idle’ is one of those to a tee - and less grating that ‘Lyla’, you’ll be glad to know. This time they don’t bother trying to be different at all, merely making up in melody what they lack in complexity. And check out the video for it too, where Welsh actor Rhys Ifans gets his groove on as a funeral director. It works, honest.
Boston’s resident hardcore punks live up to all the necessary clichés. And while their impassioned call to arms, the second from album Black Tape, gives the awful feeling of déjà vu, Matt Hock’s cutesy, strained vocals manage to make them stand out. Although he’d probably die on the spot knowing that.
O'Rourke's third single from the platinum-selling Since Kyabram is exactly the record a guy would put on after the woman he’s besotted with agrees to marry him. It’s a joy barely restrained, and warms the heart of anyone lucky enough to witness it. Had anyone else played this song, it wouldn’t have the same effect – there’s something about the acoustic simplicity next to Declan’s deep, masculine vocals that makes it shine. Genius.
Even a comatose gnat would be able to guess what the result of Justin Hawkins (soloing as British Whale) covering the kitsch duo, Sparks, would sound like – assuming the gnat was around in the '80s – and it doesn’t deviate one iota from that. His shrill, English voice is as prominent as ever and as Led Zep once said, the song remains the same.
As social phenomena – teenage pregnancy, counterfeit designer clothes, weekend binge-drinking – rip through small towns like a cultural wildfire, it’s only fitting that there’s some comeback to the suburban suffocation.
As social phenomena – teenage pregnancy, counterfeit designer clothes, weekend binge-drinking – rip through small towns like a cultural wildfire, it’s only fitting that there’s some comeback to the suburban suffocation.
The sleeve folds out into a poster of Nelly with his bling on display – talk about rubbing it in. It’s suspicious that he released two albums simultaneously last autumn, one representing his street side, the other his smooth side. And it’s disgraceful to combine the best songs eight months later with Sweat Suit, just to squeeze every last penny possible.
Just as we’d grown used to eerie silence from The Posies morgue, Every Kind Of Light hits us like a Second Coming. And they’d managed to wrap the band up so nicely too, what with their last studio album Success being the logical conclusion to 1992’s debut Failure.
And about time too. After eleven years of a very public hate/hate relationship, former Suede stars Brett Anderson and Bernard Butler have decided to bury the hatchet. Or give it a shallow grave anyway.
Their past differences notwithstanding, the pair are agreed on one thiing at least: that The Tears shouldn’t be compared to Suede. They waived that right, however, when they managed to make Here Come The Tears sound exactly like Dog Man Star, the last album they recorded together under the Suede banner.
There’s a danger that someone who tries to be everything to everyone – a country crooner for Mary-Lou, a rocker for Sadie – ends up meaning not much to anybody. So while Adams’ post Whiskeytown affairs have been inconsistent in terms of style and quality, Cold Roses is a return to the form that made him famous.
“This is good,” quips Daragh Dukes. “We’re trying to keep it cult, so if you like it, don’t tell anyone.”
The joke’s actually on him, because no bastard’s turned up to see his band. At the best of times, the sheer choice in London keeps people away from bands in the ‘maybe’ pile. But on a Tuesday? And up against Chelsea vs Liverpool? They didn’t stand a chance.
Sleaze rock. Glam rock. Cock rock. Essentially it all adds up to cod pieces and really, really bad hair, with some low-slung guitars added as a prop to bag the chicks. The Glitterati have already and unapologetically proved themselves as that, with their enjoyable live stints more influenced by LA than their native Leeds. But you can’t hear image on your headphones and without their sunglasses to hide behind, they ain’t so hot.
When three established and quality rock bands play together, the chances of the gig being anything but a wild time becomes, statistically speaking, insignificant. But - but - how so? This is the quandary that faced the university students who ventured out from the depths of murky libraries to witness this geetarfest. For everyone else there was beer.
As popular with the Europeans as with their home crowd, Therapy? return to Lund for the first time in ten years. Shilpa Ganatra catches up with the lads to find out how their tour is going and what the rest of the year holds in store.
Pop superstar du jour Daniel Bedingfield talks to Shilpa Ganatra about the enthusiasm of Irish audiences, escaping death in New Zealand and why he intends to push the stylistic envelope on his future albums.
The Camden Crawl: 40 buzz bands play across 10 venues on one night, in indie’s capital of cool. In the green corner are The Chalets, who pit their musical talent in a predominately London-led line-up.
With her urban flavoured show on 2FM providing the soundtrack to many youths’ misdemeanours, the quiet suburb of Baltinglass seems an unlikely hood for Nikki Hayes. She talks to Shilpa Ganatra about her new neighbours, hapless attempts at playing housewife, and meeting Lionel Richie. Photography by Cathal Dawson
Laying Throwing Muses to rest and taking a break from her solo projects, Kristin Hersh reappears in the guise of 50 Foot Wave, with Muses bassist Bernard Georges and new drummer Dan Ahlers. The name change seems moot as it doesn’t give Kristin any more creative license than she had previously, when she could cough into a microphone and her cult following would faint at its genius. But from the evidence of last year’s self-titled shortie and this, the band’s first full-length debut, the new ensemble may well mark a shift in approach.
It would be justifiable to pass this off, because there’s some truth that if you’ve heard one Throwing Muses spin-off you’ve heard em all. But just be warned that with Kirstin Hersh's current mental state, she may just pay you a visit when you least expect…
