Music
If Moon Safari reinvented the sound of dinner parties and after hours indie-love, then Zero 7's debut, Simple Things, consummated the British people's loving relationship with all things chilled upon its release in 2001.
Though essentially a less charming, more prudent reworking of Air's aforementioned masterpiece, Simple Things was well-produced and pressed the right buttons, consequently selling 300,000 copies as the nation lapped it up in the days when it was still vaguely cool to buy Ministry Of Sound chillout compilations. Three years on, however, anyone expecting a radical change of direction from the prototypical ambient techie duo is going to be seriously disappointed. The electronic Bacharach approach has been proven to pay dividends, and while baby-makers everywhere are still more than keen to hand over 15 quid for an unobtrusive backdrop to the main event, Zero 7 will undoubtedly see no reason to be anything other than sickeningly pleasant.
That said, this is still a difficult album to hate. Let there be no doubt that When It Falls is exceptionally well constructed, diligently assembled by two true masters of manipulative mood music. The organic drums, gentle guitars and soothing vocals do generally amalgamate into an entirely agreeable whole, each instrument layered so carefully that you can't help but be a little taken in by it. 'Somersault' is a folky, daydream of a track which provides a suitable platform for the soulful voice of returning vocalist Sophie Barker, while new recruit Tina Dico shows her credentials on the darker, less obvious 'Home', which represents one of the album's highlights. Indeed, it's when Zero 7 hint at a more substantial, less rosy undercurrent that their music takes on an emotional meaning sadly lacking in the bland elevator music which still pervades. Mozez' voice particularly grates, his Vandrossian crooning providing nothing more than severe irritation and making it increasingly difficult to be receptive to the accompanying meandering mess that is 'Over Our Heads'. The risk of schmaltz overload is ever-present, but there is sufficient restraint exercised to make this a reasonable listen, even if one or two tracks are absolute must-skips.
Boring and predictable as Zero 7 may be, they fill a musical niche vacated by Air since they 'went weird' on 10,000 Hz Legend. As a music lover, this album was never going to set my heart on fire, but as a red-blooded male, I'm more than happy to have been provided with another album of girlfriend-friendly tunes which at least guarantee me a five minute fondle.
For a CD collection without any oily-pecced D'Angelo look-alikes to provide the soundtrack to your night of carnal pleasure, this could be a very valuable addition. Long live the bland, I say.
The Greatest Band You Never Saw? It could be any rags to riches tale. Talented band release a series of classic singles and albums to critical and commercial acclaim. Then...a five year recuperation and constant stories of line-up changes, musical differences, clashes of personality, illness, drug abuse and side projects. A few hits at the end of Britpop - the sadly untrue 'Sick Of Drugs' just missing the Top Ten - and then nothing.
This is a tale so overblown that it could be a movie. There are parallels with so many other characters whose talent is dulled then ruined by excess. In this case, there is a second act.
Coupled With is actually a collection of rarities and B-sides. It also manages to be a set of pop songs that would rival any act. Opener 'Stormy In The North, Karma In The South' is perhaps the highlight: an insistent riff bursts from the speakers and the listener is dragged through a three minute explosion of rock 'n' roll. This is followed up by a run of songs that most bands would kill to write. And a version of the Cheers tune. At times, the songs become indistinguishable from each other, as each song follows a pattern of high-octane dash through both rock heaviness and pop melodies.
This set of songs is not as good as previous efforts, but Coupled With is still a fine effort. Make a note to see them at Brookes University on April 22nd. It will be worth it.
Radio 1 seem intent on losing every listener they ever had. Despite high profile failures such as Sara Cox at Breakfast, further changes are planned. The official line speaks of 'target markets' but do Radio 1 know what their market is? The better presenters, those that care about their music and actually know something about the songs being played, are stranded in some sort of nightime purgatory, with some of the best shows on well after midnight. The level at which the news is aimed is another symptom of the same malaise. Would you actually think that it is possible to dumb down radio? Just remember that this leaves your airwaves dominated by Chris Moyles, Edith Bowman and Zane Lowe (Indie's answer to Tim Westwood). RE
Like the Chuckle Brothers on beer, Mark and Lard are just not funny. It's puerile, measningless toss wrapped up in a smidgen of credibility that leaves them loved by...um...who exactly? The same people who like Chris Evans?
Maybe going out to pasture in the stud fields of Radio 2 (like Terry Wogan? - Ed) and BBC6 might be the best idea, giving them a chance to regain some semblance of dignity before they are pensioned off. Perhaps a stint in radio hell next to Smashy and Nicey will snap some idea of what makes good radio back into them. Until then, their departure will not be mourned.
EB
'The 100 Club', according to its hype, is "London's oldest music venue". Its age shows. Two monolithic pillars buttress the main stage; plastic tables block the venue's edges and, horror of horrors, not a cigarette machine in sight! Nevertheless a mood of anticipation in the sold-out club is growing. It ebbs and flows as the first two support bands come and go, and as the boys from Montreal finally take to the stage, expectation is high...
Four hours earlier I find myself outside the same venue. The Stills are sound checking, and I am introduced to Oliver Crowe, the band's self confessed 'rowdy one'. "I've got a reputation for getting a bit drunk and doing bizarre interviews, but I'm really not that rowdy," he says. Tonight, however, he is measured and astute, if a little overtired - a fatigue no doubt aggravated by a heavy schedule of "touring, touring, touring". The band are missing their home in Montreal, Canada, where they have been playing together (musically that is) since the age of 12. However, their album being recorded in the 'Big Apple' is very much of the 'New York Scene'. The band shy away from such pompous comparisons, yet their sound and look is reminiscent of touring buddies Interpol.
The Stills come to the stage at around ten o'clock and don't disappoint. Set opener and current single 'Lola Stars and Stripes' sparkles with an intensity that Dave Haemlin has invested into the band. The set picks up pace with songs such as 'Gender Bombs' and 'Still in Love Song', demonstrating the vocal capacities of singer Tim Fletcher. The finale is 'Yesterday Never Tomorrow' with each band member exiting one by one, eventually leaving Tim the last onstage. A bow, a smile and the gig is over. The lights come back on and the audience is once again in London's oldest venue: pillars, tables and cigarette-less.
New College Long Room boasts the kind of medieval architecture that makes a person want to indulge in medieval entertainments. Like quoits. And who better to bowl at than Alex Newberry, who opens the show with a suite of acoustic numbers?
The songs are simple, Americanised and obviously designed to be marketable. Half-hummable choruses and serviceable verses dutifully succeed each other in time-honoured style. It is also quite dull.
Trieste rescue the proceedings by not only playing their opening numbers with hammer-swinging vigour, but also having drops, textures, beats, and tunes. Tunes! For the first two songs, the band are tight as nails, and the female vocalist who stands centre-stage is upstaged by the very impressive stop/starts that the guys behind her execute, the drummer's beautifully clinical use of cymbals, and the guitarists' and bassist's febrile commitment to taut grooves that bolt the whole racket together. There is direction; there is passion. There is, in fact, everything you could hope to expect from a student band. And more.
As things move on, Martin Ginestie hangs up his guitar and takes the piano, leaving the sound significantly sparser. The singing has to take priority now, and sometimes this leaves the songs flat and average-sounding where they could be subtle. And it's frustrating when you get slightly bored watching a band with this much potential, but it's very exciting when Ginestie takes the mike and sings a song. And that's a song that sounds like Leonard Cohen crying in the sawdust of an empty big top. Makes me want to shout.
By the end of their set, their piano-led sound begins to feel like a schtick that's getting tired. But they rescue it, by God they do, with a cover of Lucy Pearl's 'Mess With My Mind' that demonstrates what they can really do with a song. Missed opportunities are few. The guitarist inadvertently gets his crowning moment by screwing up the otherwise-immaculate riff and turning the whole beat around for a single splendid second. There's dancing. Well, Trieste are sometimes magnificent. Occasionally you want to kick them, for being so frustrating. They're rarely dull.
It always surprises me that the Oxford Millennium Orchestra doesn't manage to pull a bigger crowd to the Sheldonian. Of course, having been around for only five years, I wouldn't expect the Sheldonian to be as packed for OMO as it is for a better established orchestra such as OUO. However, OMO's relatively recent birth is by no means reflected in the standard of performance, and their concert last week was no exception.
The programme opened ambitiously with the world premiere of a piece especially written for the orchestra. Conductor Nick Mumby met composer Philip A. Cooke in that famous inferno of musical inspiration known as Blackwell's music. One commission later and Philip gave birth to a beautiful piece, lasting about 11 minutes. The piece was christened "Five Mythical Creatures", being comprised of five short movements, each inspired by a different beastie from classical mythology. The piece was obviously challenging but pulled off with remarkable skill and confidence. The orchestra clearly enjoyed the 5/4 rhythms in Cerberus - the exciting second movement - and conveyed especially well the haunting nature of the elegant final movement.
The first half ended with Richard Strauss's brief but intense Horn Concerto 1, played by OMO's own, long-standing first horn, Charlie Wilson. There did seem to be some slight issues with timing and orchestral unity during this piece but the playing captured the changes in mood from the confident first movement to the melancholy second and light-hearted third movements, demonstrating the conductor's and the orchestra's musical sensitivity.
The soloist played the second movement particularly well and maintained a beautiful tone throughout the whole piece, even through the difficult runs, which to the untrained ear do not sound as impressive as they really are. (I should know, I live with a horn player). To appreciate a horn concerto, one must also realise the difficulty of playing a top B flat. For horn players, this is like climbing Mount Everest, blindfolded, on one leg. Charlie Wilson however conquered Everest and finished the concerto in style.
Perhaps, though, the highlight of the evening was the electric performance of Dvorak's Ninth Symphony in the second half. The performance was passionate and accomplished and a testament to Nick Mumby's dedication and conducting acumen. Even the seemingly hackneyed 'Hovis bread' second movement sparkled with new life and sounded fresh. Here, the orchestra really pulled together and were obviously enjoying playing with each other, which let's face it, is difficult not to do with such an exciting and tuneful piece. The whole evening in fact was a stunning success.
I hope, then, that the Oxford Millennium Orchestra will attract the size of audience it deserves.
N.E.R.D. -
She Wants To Move
In a nutshell, wannabe Justin Timberlake sensuality meets Britney's worst lyricist. Their usual blend of slick pop and hip-hop stylings is notably absent. The production is very reminiscent of their last album; in fact, it is practically one of their old tracks. Whilst the bass line is promising, the limited, trying-far-too-hard-to-be-erotic lyrics negate any possible enjoyment. 'Her name, She's sexy' stuck on repeat amidst grunts, groans and panting and the occasional 'come on' like 'Her ass is a space ship I want to ride' tend to spoil the mood. One would expect a lot more from the most talented production duo in pop. AP
Sarah McLachlan - Fallen
Given she's on her fifth album, it would be unfair to dismiss Sarah McLachlan as another Dido-clone, yet she's still relatively unknown here. The artwork on new album Afterglow suggests a sexier image and, perhaps, an attempt at more commercial success. Unfortunately the single 'Fallen' is an underachievement. Sure Sarah can play the piano and has a fantastic voice, but like too much of her music this is bland and disposable. Another well-executed tune that ultimately doesn't go anywhere. BS
My Morning Jacket - One Big Holiday
This is a classic rock record of epic proportions. From the big grizzly bear on the cover to the hypnotic pounding of the climactic solo, MMJ absolutely epitomise manliness and virility. Even though the singer croons like a girl, the sheer raw power of rock that suffuses the very soul of the song is utterly tumescent. I love it - it's an onslaught of mighty alt.country pomp. This is very good music and you should go and buy it. TM
26th Feb 2004