The Cold Vein - Cannibal Ox

Track list:

1. Iron Galaxy
2. Ox Out the Cage
3. Atom
4. A B-Boy’s Alpha
5. Raspberry Fields
6. Straight Off the D.I.C.
7. Vein
8. The F-Word
9. Stress Rap
10. Battle for Asgard
11. Real Earth
12. Ridiculoid
13. Painkillers
14. Pigeon
15. Scream Phoenix

Running time: 73 minutes
Released: 2001

Complete change of pace now. Hip-hop. I received this as a gift at some point and held onto it because I seem to recall it having a really distinct voice, and a powerful presence... one that made an impression. I listened to some hip-hop when I was younger, then drifted completely away from it as it slid into glorification of violence and toxic masculinity more than because the beat, voice and backing combinations no longer worked for me.

That first sentence belies good intentions to get some momentum behind these listens again, yet another couple of weeks have slid by since I managed to make the time. In truth time is not the problem, energy and the right mood is. I think I need to just fight through that though... hence doing this post now when I would rather be listening to elegiac dirges than punchy pointed verse.

There is a darkness, but a nice musicality with it, in the backing track to opener Iron Galaxy, an almost DJ Shadow-like pulse and groove to it. Getting it out there early - this format won't do this album justice because of the difficulty focusing on two sets of words at the same time, like keeping track of two conversations in a crowded bar. What strikes me though is the immediacy and accessibility of the composition as a whole. Whilst we go straight into the deep end of really heavy verse and it's all low, slow and threat, the tunes are completely supportive of that and yet at the same time interesting and approachable. There's no barrier to entry, no wall of crass commercialism to bounce off, no over-sexualised, women-as-property video image appearing in my head. The lyrics may contain these things somewhere, but it is not the fist impression or immediately obvious. This feels darker, more serious but, paradoxically, becomes more immediate, appreciable and enjoyable for that seriousness. It is hard core not lowest common denominator, but easier to get than the shallower trashy offerings of others.

There are some nice horns in the background, giving the sound of a more relaxed view of a city at night. The tension that of a pot boiler... a noir film. It fits - those same tensions are explored in the explicit lyrics. The delivery is interesting, but its the compositions that keep me hooked. Who says you can't rap over interesting music rather than transparent beats? Not these guys, for sure.

There is definitely a danger here... violence implicit and explicit throughout. Threats and nastiness. It jars a little but it doesn't come across as glamourised or trivial, not used idly. The tracks that make that the focus feel weaker somehow, but still not the turn off that I might have expected. Mostly this comes down to the fantastic arrangements, vital beats and tension-strewn top ends. Snappy electronica. I could almost see myself listening to this as an instrumental album in places. I think if the lyric was removed you might notice the empty spaces in there, but you might also end up with a smooth if grungy electronica; a little overlong, I suspect, but serviceable.

A couple of distractions pulled me out of the zone created by those grooves and I find myself on the outside bouncing off Vein. It just goes to show how fickle or fragile our relationship with music can be in the moment. I have been skipping past several tracks I love in recent days, searching for things more suited to mood. Yet if you give the tracks a chance to start they can suck you in... the ambience of The F-Word drag me back in forcefully, the backing here is amazing and synergises with the accents of the MCs in a perfect storm. I am less enamoured of the actual lyrics but the sounds - the sounds are great.

My mind has blanked. Words failing me. Thoughts not establishing themselves. 73 minutes of this is a lot of album, constantly switched on. I am, what... two thirds through now? No, less. I feel a little like I have been bludgeoned. The easy access I spoke about earlier? That seems to have shut down and we are into deeper, darker water now. There is less going on in the arrangements, more focus on really punchy, incessant rap. It's not fast per se, it doesn't stop to breathe - only giving space in the brief changes between tracks - and the voices are hard, edgy and grounded.

I find myself tuning in and out more, my ears pricking up for moments rather than tracks. The opening of Ridiculoid provides an interesting contrast to what came before it, but once the pattern for the number is set, the interest wanes a little and I let the (here genuinely quick) vocal delivery wash over me, my head a blur of... something? It's all too muddled to describe, so I blank it. I should note I don't count this against the quality of the offering. If anything the relentlessness that has forced that shut down is a mark in its favour. It doesn't pull punches, and I am starting to feel punch-drunk.

It is midday on a Sunday in early September, I've done nothing strenuous for 2 days and I feel beaten up.

Painkillers ends in an odd way. Beeps like a countdown timer, then an instrumental outro, long after the MCs have stopped. Its nice enough but it feels out of place on this album, a window and some space in what has been a very tight, full on experience. The opening to the following track, Pigeon, carries that sense to it too, and even after the vocal begins there is more air here. Apt. The voices have softened, the tone of the piece more optimistic, as characterised by some longer horn notes and the time between verses. Even my beat up ears are able to actually enjoy this. In places it is stripped right back - bass, drums and voice, in others you get the top end that gives that airiness and openness. I am not sure I would classify it as best in show, but Pigeon feels like exactly the right thing at the right time, an antidote of sorts to what came before. It kinda feels like it should be the closer, but there is one more to go.

Spacey.

What's that? Well, there is a Vangelis-like tinge to the electronic, space-like sounds that begin out final track (how's that for a random tag combo). That sense doesn't survive the opening of the lyric but it does fill me with a little mirth and give the track a lightness that means that whilst it is definitely tenser, more compact than Pigeon, it doesn't destroy that sense of openness created by its predecessor. I'm not so keen on the repetition of the track title, Scream Phoenix, in the vocal, and it feels like it should shut down after 3 minutes rather than run the extra 2 of instrumental that we have tacked on here.

Closing thoughts on this one are that it is probably the best hip-hop album I have ever heard, not that that is saying much. It is engaging, it is brutal, it is interesting. I prefer, though, to engage in smaller doses. An hour and 13 with no break is too much for me. I suspect the impact is lost a bit as a change up in a shuffle, but the impact here was too big to be truly enjoyable by the end.

Club Anthems - Ballboy

Track List:

1. Donald in the Bushes With a Bag of Glue
2. A Day in Space
3. Dumper Truck Racing
4. Public Park
5. Essential Wear for Future Trips to Space
6. I Hate Scotland
7. Olympic Cyclist (acoustic version)
8. One Sailor Was Waving
9. I've Got Pictures of You in Your Underwear
10. Leave the Earth Behind You and Take a Walk Into the Sunshine
11. Swim for Health
12. They'll Hang Flags From Cranes Upon My Wedding Day
13. Postcards From the Beach
14. Sex Is Boring (acoustic version)

Running time: 65 minutes
Released: 2001

First up, this is nothing like the title suggests. If you played these in most clubs you'd be out on your ear as everyone left.

I got turned onto Ballboy by a friend who now is not, their style of self-effacing Scottish indie-pop being right up my street. Looking down the track listing, there are some top songs here, but most of my favourite Ballboy tracks are on other discs.

It starts with a jaunty little riff, a snappy drum beat and a lazy guitar hook, then dives off into a story - one of the things I like about Ballboy is the stories that manifest in their songs - about a recovering glue-sniffer. Cheery start, no really, it is. The music is upbeat and Gordon McIntyre's voice is full of positivity here, despite the lyrics. It beats the crap out of the continental covers band I saw last night, when I discovered what Twitter is really for. Acerbic one-liners when you don't have anyone around you to share the joke with.

The tone changes as we head into space for the first of two visits. Lush background harmonics and a guitar hook sit underneath a spoken monologue from the point of view of a dreamer with a love of space. Here McIntyre's voice is soothing, laid back and enjoyable as he meanders through the stream of consciousness thoughts of our narrator - whether him or a construct for the purpose of the song. He has a nice style of repeating certain lines for emphasis, which focuses you in on certain ideas in the song. All the while the harmonics and guitar circle, producing a lush carpet of sound beneath. Everything strips right back then, as we head into an acoustic number, a tired, dreamlike one at that.

Went out swimming earlier, first time in a long time. Tired now, so I find my eyes wanting to shut as the simple keys and guitar combination lulls me into relaxation. The guitar in particular is soothing, simple patterns of repeating notes at a slow enough pace to make every pass out but insistent enough to not leave holes in the sound. When that bottoms out for the final part of the track it feels slower, duller. Thankfully Ballboy tend to drift around in terms of tempos and fullness of sound, and they follow that sparser number with a lush, expansive one. Strings, guitars, drums creating a backdrop for the vocal - somewhat swallowed by the enveloping soundscape, until they leave him clear to sing over an acoustic for the chorus. One of the things I like about Ballboy is the way they use these lush sounds to support a singular and often quite lonely song, one that could just as well be told with one guitar. And then they switch between modes simply and effectively.

There is also the natural urge to self-deprecate. It is a British thing, not restricted to Scotland, but these guys do it very well. I must have mentioned here before how this sort of doing oneself down resonates with me.

After some very spangly sounds on our second space-themed track we hit the number that was my first introduction to Ballboy. I Hate Scotland (from a Scot, remember) is a grungy repeating low guitar riff, a dirty kind of sound, supporting another monologue, about how modern Scotland doesn't always meet expectations or standards. That said, it begins with a hark back to childhood and school PE lessons. The darkness in the thrum contrasts with the clarity of the spoken vocal. It frames the mood of the lyric, without overpowering it, crafting a powerful overall effect. There are lighter injections into that underlying noise, the equivalent of choruses I guess. I prefer the darker moments though if I am honest. After laying out his mind on Scotland, the narration returns to the PE analogy. It's a little non-sensical, giving everything up for the equipment and ability to execute a singular exercise... I guess I see it as calling back to a perfect moment, a point of pure exhilaration.

There is life in the action of their guitars. I don't play, but I imagine that most of these songs are pretty simple, musically. Rather than going for great technical challenge they focus things down and execute well. Keep it simple stupid, and do it perfectly. Of course as soon as I type that it goes off at the speed of lightning. Whilst fast is not necessarily complex, I guess, it torpedoes the confidence I had in my statement all the same. The opening sentence of this paragraph remains valid though: the band give it some and when they want to the really drive pace through their strumming. It reminds me a bit of The Wedding Present (which I am pretty sure was a reference point at the time I was introduced).

Oh, spangly. I don't really recognise the opening to Leave the Earth Behind You and Take a Walk into the Sunshine. The general form of the track is very recognisably Ballboy, but for whatever reason I think I have not heard this so much. McIntyre's voice here is more ethereal and removed, perhaps fitting for a song which seems to have some existential angst to it ("are you happy with your life" indeed?), but the guitars fall into a familiar pattern. My complaint about this track is that it drones on a little bit - 8 minutes without any real change-up is too long however comfortingly familiar the sounds are. I am tired of it by 6 minutes for reference.

I get the impression that the end of this album will arrive quite suddenly, as the track lengths drop off a bit from this point. That said, I find Swim for Health to drag me down, the horn that has appeared for this track not really fitting - not carrying the burden of the tune as well as the guitars, which have been relegated to support acts. We lurch from that to a stripped back downbeat song. They'll Hang Flags From Cranes Upon My Wedding Day sounds like a positive title but the song has a weary air to it that means it comes across as more circumspect.

The closing is rather low key, too. There's a sense of resignation to Postcards from the Beach, clearly a break-up song, and Sex is Boring is... I dunno. I know the song, I like the song musically but it's a weird one, as it's opening line suggests the listener take him back for BDSM, that he then claims will be dull and unrelated to his purpose for visiting. It progresses into an angry diatribe or rant and, well... I ran out of words, and ran out of time as the song concluded, and with it the album. There are a few sketchy points on this one if I am honest - or maybe its my post-exercise brain failing me.

Cara Dillon - Cara Dillon

Track list:

1. Black Is the Colour
2. Donald of Glencoe
3. Craigie Hill
4. Green Grows the Laurel
5. The Lark in the Clear Air
6. The Lonesome Scenes of Winter
7. Blue Mountain River
8. I Wish I Was
9. The Maid of Culmore
10. She's Like the Swallow
11. I Am a Youth That's Inclined to Ramble

Running time: 45 minutes
Released: 2001

We side-track into folk songs now. This was Cara Dillon's debut solo work and one of the first folk albums I remember buying after getting into traditional music in my early 20s. I can't recall what drew me to it - I am almost certain it was bought unheard - but I did rather fall for a couple of the renditions on this recording, particularly the opening track, and liked it enough to buy at least one follow-up.

The piano part that opens traditional tune Black Is the Colour is polluted a bit by the organ accompaniment but that is easily overlooked once Dillon's voice joins in. There is a lovely tremour in her delivery, a slight warble that lends a warmth to the track. The song is sung faithfully, which is to say that  she hasn't gender-flipped it and made it about a black haired lad. All through I find myself drawn to the piano line (should be no surprise by now), a gentle repeating loop that gives more structure than real melody but captivates none-the-less. The tune whizzes by and it never seems to grow to the extent my recollection of it would suggest but it is still hugely pleasant.

Dillon's voice keeps her accent - or enough of it - intact. I think that was one of the major draws for me. Too many singers flatten their voices in song, ending up with a generic (if brilliant) singing voice as a result. Of course, having claimed that I am struggling to think of a clear example where the speaking and signing voices sound so very different. Typical. The second track has none of the warmth of the first; sounds a little tinny, a bit flat, phoned in. Less so in the vocal than in the arrangement to be fair, but it all feels a little disconnected. Craigie Hill, which follows, dispels that again by stripping everything back to voice and keys. Harmonies in the vocal, and a really nice swaying rhythm to the lines sell this track hard, and I feel the hairs on my arms standing in places. There is a bit more of a rich arrangement after the first verses are done, but the drumming is subtle and supportive. That the track works so well in both light and rich arrangements is because the singing is freed to star throughout.  Dillon's voice rises and falls, speeds through and draws out as needed and works really well with the layering effect; I think its production rather than backing vocals that gives the harmony.

Her voice is interesting. It does not always sound the strongest; at points in Green Grows the Laurel I am far from convinced by the singing. Yet at other points she clearly has something special. I think it better suits some songs, some forms. Oh god, mind blank. My eyes have shut as if lead weights were hung from my eyelids and along with that my brain has lost all train of thought. Sudden tiredness is weird.

A couple of tunes drift by whilst I try to reform my thoughts and focus on my task at hand. I find myself thinking Dillon sounds much better in harmony than alone. There is something about the timbre of her voice that is amplified when offset and that is where the really warm, engaging sounds are found. These are all traditional songs, but there are points in there where the more modern arrangements clearly stand out and add their own sense of things. The confluence of voices and instrumental crescendo on the chorus of The Lonesome Scenes of Winter is one such time, where the electrified guitar part and the rich interweaving of the wider arrangement really lift the track. As the tracks pass me by I find myself recognising large swathes of each which is something of a surprise because I don't really have any sense of listening to this at length for more than a decade.

The louder, richer moments - voices blended together, whether multiple sources or technical effects, and deeper arrangements - are the heart and soul of this album. They take the otherwise nice but plain tunes and inject a sense of personality, a stamp of ownership. A reason to listen to these recordings of them. I find my mind drifting more in the softer and quieter verses, but being dragged back on track by the choruses - I Wish I Was being a clear case of this, even though the choruses concerned lack discernable lyrics.

There is a chill sense to The Maid of Culmore, the more mournful tone and sparse opening bars cool the air. It is a tuneful take but a little too slow and sad for me to really enjoy in a state where my eyes want to droop. Two to go; I think I don't recognise She's Like a Swallow to start with, then the other musicians all come in and memory returns. I don't think it is a great tune, but it is a very comfortable one. Simply put, all the stresses are in the right places for me, and the way the piece comes together - again, energised by the crescendos and ensemble play - raises a comfortable and knowing smile. It just works.

As with the rest of the disc, the strongest moments in the final track come with the central theme. Not a chorus this time, but a repeated bridge that has solid playing and a hummed vocal melody that envelops the listener with warmth - it is a swell, another crescendo that is mirrored behind parts of the verse too. Its a lovely effect, the intertwined vocal lines really making it. Cara Dillon - best in stereo, or something.

Brushfire Fairytales - Jack Johnson

Track list:

1. Inaudible Melodies
2. Middle Man
3. Posters
4. Sexy Plexi
5. Flake
6. Bubble Toes
7. Fortunate Fool
8. The News
9. Drink the Water
10. Mudfootball (For Moe Lerner)
11. F-Stop Blues
12. Losing Hope
13. It s All Understood
14. Flake (live)
15. Inaudible Melodies (live)

Running time: 53 minutes
Released: 2001

OK so. This takes me back. Not quite to 2001 as I came to it later than that. In 2002-2003 I found myself in an inadvisable situation which, amongst other things, exposed me to Jack Johnson. For whatever reason I picked up this, and On and On, so my first impressions must have been good. However since then he's pretty much been an auto-skip. Forcing myself to listen (and because I have the British version, I get two bonus live renditions; woo!) is a good way to confront the biases I may have built up.

I have been quiet here of late, and this post is overdue. Busy as the weeks are, a long weekend would normally have offered me the opportunity to make up for no evening posts, but a combination of a 6 1/2 hours of driving (plus knock on tiredness) and my antipathy for this particular listen put paid to that. Still, here I am to buck it up. There is a lazy feel to the opening guitar line, an almost smug laziness in fact. It's as if it thinks it is so cool it doesn't have to try, so doesn't. I can't tell if I hate it or secretly admire it. So empty and yet...

It feels a little like a busker on the street, tapping into something done by someone else, not quite delivering but giving you enough to recognise the quality of the source material. Here I find myself bouncing off Johnson's voice rather hard, but finding an affinity for the slow sway of the tempo. So, a nice clean and clear opening then.

Middle Man is immediately less interesting. More standard in its construction, i.e. a little busier, and higher of pace, it doesn't have the easy rhythm of Inaudible Melodies, the magical timing and that sense of self importance. That quality is repugnant, but it often exists because there is something else special that leads one to believe in it. Posters tries to recapture it, but ends up feeling very, very dull. This does try to rebottle the playing from the first tune, but falls into a structure that has less room for it. I am still bouncing off the voice, too, which has a more important role in this track, rendering the guitar to a sideshow. I can see why people liked this a lot, but each track seems to erode my patience with it further. It is like an amalgam of several different artists, stealing little tricks from several different places - Sexy Plexi brings to mind 4 or 5 other musicians or groups in turn. It feels ripped off, or like a homage to something, rather than its own thing.

Short week this week - not only was there a bank holiday on Monday, I'm off on Friday too, going to the UK Games Expo. Then hosting friends on Saturday. I'll need to flop on Sunday, for sure. It's also been an odd week - finding my TV aerial broke piled another thing to do on top of booking a dental appointment and the thing I find myself forgetting every bloody day... to get on to someone about fixing my boundary fencing. I am utterly incapable of getting that sorted out; at a time when calling would be possible I put it down as something I must do, then promptly forget until a time like now - an evening when calling a tradesman isn't on. Argh!

Ugh. Bubble Toes. Stupid goddamn nonsense. The insouciance that is the predominant theme conveyed by Johnson's style has been growing more irritating with every track since the first, but when met with wordless choruses it reaches a zenith of annoyance. This song is just awful, and yet a centrepiece. Thankfully all of these tracks are quick, past and gone in short order - not because they are actually that short (Bubble Toes is just shy 4 minutes), but because they are easily tuned out.

The next track actually recaptures a bit of the style and swagger that put me on the fence about Inaudible Melodies. Whilst this, like the tracks before, is based on simple looping guitar hooks, it has the right spacing. The timing of the switch from one riff to another, the overall tempo. An easy sway. It makes things accessible but also generates that feeling of effortlessness. I guess it is impossible to not connect the form of his music with Johnson's surfer background. It has that stoner / dropout ease to it, the low key tone that you imagine just sitting on a beach after dark around a fire pit with friends might bring. It permeates, overloads and beats down any attempt to really get invested. It's all too laid back. I have to be fair and call out what I like, too; the edge to the sound on Drink the Water - provided by the bass part - makes this track more interesting, at least for the first 30 seconds or so. After that point you have basically heard the whole thing. I am far from done with this listen yet, but I feel the same for the album - a taster is more than enough to know what the whole thing is like.

I am getting no enjoyment. A sense of distance instead. I am inured now to the bits I don't like, and there is so little left once they are removed. It is just... bland. I think that very blandness was possibly the root of his success. Not offending the maximum number of people, and getting picked up through familiarity. What is distinctive as a one-off is utterly samey in quantity - that sense of style that makes Jack Johnson tunes very recognisable becomes a formula stuck to so rigidly that if you've heard one you've heard them all. Sure, there's some variation in pace between tunes, but the compositions barely shift. Of course, as I say that we get a track that has a different base - much more weight on the percussion come Losing Hope; the elements here are all the same though, it's just the weightings that changed slightly. It was a surprise at start, but it falls into the same repetitive patterns as prior tracks pretty fast.

There is no question that Johnson has something; his style is a real asset, if you like that sort of thing. I find myself not liking it, and cursing my younger self for buying into it based on association with what brought him to my consciousness in the first place. Whilst I freely admit I am a lazy so-and-so, the ultra-laid back "aren't I cool" sense I get from JJ's vocals and the predominant tempo of his works set my teeth on edge a bit. I was never "cool"; I never will be. I'm happy in my nerdiness, which makes a self-satisfied sounding dude like Johnson anathema to me. I am into the two live tracks now; the screaming of the crowd is so out of place with the over-relaxed nature of the tunes. They're so sedate that whilst I can see (and vehemently disagree with) the reasons people like this stuff, I can't for the life of me how anyone gets into it enough to vocalise, be it scream or cheer, in response to it. Its very nature is low key, not hype.

This is a clear out. The second bonus track is a version of Inaudible Melodies and, hearing it again after being exposed to almost an hour of Johnson with nothing else in between, it has lost its swagger and with it any appeal.  The crowd of screaming fans really doesn't help there, but mostly its my fatigue. Yes - this could be a case of confirmation bias, but frankly I don't care. Good riddance surfer-dude.

Breaking in an Angel - Red Animal War

Track list:

1. Weak Bones May Break
2. Anthem
3. Safe In The Air
4. Starter
5. Dark Country
6. Blue Shift
7. From Cold To Colder
8. Heath
9. Hope
10. The Disappearing Act
11. Get-Away Driver

Running time: 44 minutes
Released: 2001

Random interlude time. I think I have this because I really got on with And None of Them Knew They Were Robots so went looking for similar stuff. I don't know how successful that was, or indeed how similar this actually is, but I am reasonably confident that was the path that led me here.

There's certainly a base similarity in the structures on the opening track, and in the less than musical but effective vocal. It is... raw, yet with a nice bright sound in the melody despite the grungy garage rock sentiment. Oh, hey. A midweek evening post. I think its a first for this year. The first track maybe lasts a little long; by three minutes the impact has worn off. There isn't the instant visceral appeal of the Robots here, less emotion bleeding through the singer.

As Anthem starts I find the vocal flat, the slightly off-kilter style nasal and unappealing. The music is distant, alternating between very busy and very melodic, drum-heavy and tuneful. I think that is what appeals about this style - the juxtaposition of sheer noise with some really bright clear and tuneful lines. Its an evolution on punk, keeping the sheer energy and anarchy but harnessing it along with musicality, rather than chucking the latter out. That said, all interest fades from Anthem as the sounds become muted, the vocal long since dead. Long unnecessary lead out, followed by a long lead in to the third track, which is immediately better once the singing arrives - lyrics screamed out with controlled anger and offering the contrast to the tune. Raw emotion in those strained words, a vital ingredient to make this form work. It drains over the course of a track though as expectations reset and baseline, which means that I am finding anything past the three minute mark on these tracks much less interesting than the way they open.

More energy and life in Starter. Faster pace. Its also more obviously bland garage rock. Very generic sound, less craft. The constantly strummed bass note is such a staple, its clichéd. The extra momentum on the track is welcome though - if they could marry that, and the short snappy length, to the hoarse vocal of Safe in the Air and the tuneful/noisy contrast of the first track we might find a sweet spot. Red Animal War show a knack for a more interesting rhythm and structure on Dark Country, which I think is the best track so far - no one element as good as the counterpart on a prior track, but the whole hanging together better... for just under 3 of the 3 minutes 48 seconds anyway. The last minute could very easily not exist and it would be a better song.

This listen is both interesting - I am certain I have never paid attention to any of these tracks before - and frustrating. There's great core appeal here, but the execution is ever so slightly off each time, weak points in every song to offset the strengths that are evident. New favourite, Blue Shift. This one seems to avoid the trap of getting dull after the three minute mark, it shifts tone and tempo around a bit and works.

Isn't it funny how a vocal style can be really great on some tracks and really grate on others? Uncultured shouting is the effect I get from it in the context of From Cold to Colder, and yet I am fairly certain that the delivery is not far removed from the raw and angry sound I liked earlier. Hmm. Random change to acoustic intro, I don't think that was necessary or advisable. Heath is the longest track on the disc, just over 5 minutes and it starts one of the weakest. At its midpoint it has one of the most tuneful and pleasant sections of the album but for all that it is deathly dull. These guys showed that they had more to them than this, and the lighter sound may be more melodic but it doesn't have the heart of the noisier parts.

The opening of Hope has the balance more right - busy, bustling and loud. That is what I want from rockier, punkier music, the energy and life to overwhelm the senses and distract from the assault that is often a rather unpleasant base sound. There is nothing too untuneful here - the vocal aside, just lulls that dispel any sense of momentum. I think my take home from this listen is that I probably shouldn't go looking for more ... hold that thought. The Disappearing Act very strangely turns into a flute piece for a moment. That's a what the hell, out of the blue. Until it collapsed in on itself it had been a promising piece. Where was I? Oh, yes - do not go looking for anything in the same ear-busting, mind blowing category loud screaming punk-y rock; if it comes to me, great, but the up and down on this album suggests more than ever what a miracle in microcosm And None of them Knew They Were Robots was. I rather like bits and pieces of Breaking in an Angel, but as a whole... it ends up as much being defined for me by what it isn't as by what it actually is, and that's a shame.

Blue Boy - Ron Sexsmith

Track list:

1. This Song
2. Cheap Hotel
3. Don't Ask Why
4. Foolproof
5. Tell Me Again
6. Just My Heart Talkin'
7. Not Too Big
8. Miracle in Itself
9. Thirsty Love
10. Never Been Done
11. Thumbelina Farewell
12. Parable
13. Keep It in Mind
14. Fallen

Running time: 41 minutes
Released: 2001

I wish I could recall what got me to pick up this album. It was my entry into the works of Ron Sexsmith, and was a real favourite for a while. I have drifted away from his music of late, stopped buying new releases (I don't have his latest couple of albums) and not really listened to any that I have for quite some time. This is a welcome excuse to retread old ground and see if I can reconnect.

We start with a pleasing meta-song, its incredibly easy listening. Simple structure, nice little roll and Sexsmith's slightly off-kilter voice. I seem to have a bit of a penchant for singers where things are almost as broken as they are pristine. Meanwhile the song swells, horns adding it a depth and a volume to keep it ticking. I can see why Ron Sexsmith ended up being a prolific songwriter for other people without ever making it big himself.

I just love the timbre of the guitar lead on Cheap Hotel, whilst the sadness of the song is palpable. Just as I remember, the start of this album is pretty strongly up my street, and after a breeze through low rent accomodation Don't Ask Why adds an injection of life. Here a catchy tune and a nice full sound picks us up. The change up for the chorus is really effective at shifting the mood and creating themes in the music. I hadn't realised the ooohs and aaahs that form the backing when we hit the second chorus before - and I suspect I may have missed them in the first instance this time. This is a pretty bright little pop song really. My memory is that the album doesn't keep up this hit rate all the way through though, and Foolproof's stripped back, slow dance number fails to charm me. Its the sort of tune that makes me feel it could have been a massive hit 5 decades earlier and sung by a crooner of the era, and could probably be a major crowd-pleaser for modern knock-offs too. Ronald Eldon Sexsmith may have penned it but somehow the overriding impression is that his voice lacks the cachet to carry it off.

And yet. It is that same lack of security, a slight wobble, a rough edge in his voice that attracts me to his music. That and a knack for finding little melodies that are far more engaging and enjoyable than one might expect them to be. There's nothing epic, grand or posturing about his tunes, they're just tight and interesting enough to do their job and catchy enough to get you nodding along or tapping a foot or something. In a similar vein, the songs aren't singalong at full volume, or even mouth the words in appreciation, candidates but neither are they vapid little love songs.

I've hit half way already - these songs are short, radio friendly and all that. Not Too Big is a different feel again, snappy percussion, talking about loneliness in crowds. It has a downbeat kind of kick, bass-heavy, not much melody. It's damn catchy - the snap to the snare, the handclaps, the bass riff - somehow all speak to inactivity whilst maintaining a groove. It's a lovely piece of composition. Just to show range, the next track is a piano melody that I could listen to over and over - though I think the strings on Miracle in Itself aren't great in places and that the tune as a whole could do with a greater depth of sound. There is a tumbledown, accidental air to it.

I think I once saw a documentary following Sexsmith through the process of recording and releasing an album where his comparative success as a writer (with fellow Canucks Feist and Michael Bublé - the only time that tag will get used! - among those to have covered him) and the niche reach of his own releases came up. A quick Google turns up Love Shines, which suggests I wasn't going mad.  This one album showcases a range of songs that makes it hard to see why concerted attempts to grow his own audience failed. With a bit more backing, a bit more production on the tracks, some of them could be huge. And yet (again). To do so would probably rob them of a charm, an understatement that is a key component of his songwriting.

Blue Boy starts strong, but I think it is fair to say the second half of the record does not quite live up to that promise. Though as I try to think why I feel that is fair, every criticism I was going to turn out gets disproved by the next track to start. I'd forgotten the pleasantness of the melody in Parable for example. I think this track has problems - the percussion is too loud relative to everything else, and there isn't really enough to set off the light touch of the guitar, and Sexsmith's voice is perhaps as not quite there as it gets on this disc given the style of delivery too. That said, the strength of that core line and the general ambiance of the tune are so... nice.

Keep It In Mind is the proof that my theory of the second half being poor is garbage. This tune has a fantastic cadence change between verse and chorus based on the change of rhythm. The guitar work is tinny in a studied way, minimalist and very effective. It's foot-tappingly great for the first 2 minutes before making a poor decision not to close out and carries on with improvised vocal, weakening what went before. Fallen is another ballad, noodled guitar and brushed drums create a soft and sweet melody but there is a sadness in Sexsmith's voice that is hard to escape - I think it is a natural artefact of the slightly flattened way he seems to reach the notes because it's not really a sad song. It is the final song on the disc, though. In summary? I still really like this album, but I can see very clearly why I stopped listening to it as much and, if I am honest, why I felt I didn't need to continue buying Sexsmith's records: I don't think the others match up that well to this. I do have a fair few more to listen to though, so maybe I'll prove myself wrong again!

Blowback - Tricky

Tracklist:

1. Excess
2. Evolution Revolution Love
3. Over Me
4. Girls
5. You Don't Wanna
6. #1 Da Woman
7. Your Name
8. Diss Never (Dig Up We History)
9. Bury The Evidence
10. Something in the Way
11. Five Days
12. Give it to 'Em
13. A Song for Yukiko

Running time: 50 minutes
Released: 2001

I doubt I will like this much. I didn't get on with Angels with Dirty Faces to the point where I excised the whole disc from my library. Whilst I am not sure that Blowback will get quite such short shrift, I do think it will contain a fair amount that is not for me, and that Tricky's output in general leans that way. Pity I have at least a couple more albums in the tank if so. Still, one can hope to be surprised.

The opening of Excess has a nice roll to it, a consistent rumble, and after the first exploratory vocals there is a small flash of augmentation to that, keys providing a melodic touch, which builds a rather pleasant and accessible track. Not what I was expecting. Of course, I have a problem with it. There is a little too little of the melody, and the track elongates and stays beyond its welcome - not by introducing anything unpleasant but by simply not introducing anything new to the picture. A shame, it could have been much better.

OK, so I recognise Evolution Revolution Love when it starts. For some reason I thought this tune was on a different album. The track is, again, accessible in a way I didn't find anything on Angels. The chorus is the bit that sticks in the memory, but it is the variation in vocal styles applied throughout the piece that makes it work. Like Excess there isn't a whole lot of change or variation in the music here, but switching between a few different deliveries keeps the track a fair bit fresher. You could probably knock 30-40 seconds of its length without noticing it, but I actually think it works all the same.

I don't get on so well with the vocal styling on Over Me. This is a duet of sorts between a very... something low bassy vocal and a waifish female voice doing the chorus. How to describe that male voice? I can't begin to find words. Whilst not a million miles away from one of the approaches on the prior track, here it just grates, and the backing remains pretty staid. Nothing to grab my attention. I am therefore glad when Girls introduces a nice rocky guitar riff. Tricky's angry lyric suits this style, but the more traditional rock vocal that joins/forms backing at some point is a bit feeble. Still, the track is rather catchy up until the point the hook gets old. To be fair as that point slips by the structure of the track does change up a little, but the switch is temporary and too short. At 3 minutes the track feels like it has gone for 5 and by the time it ends (4:21) it feels more like a lifetime. A pity - because I rather enjoyed the lead vocal here.

I'm sorry, I can't get past the altered sample of "Sweet Dreams" in You Don't Wanna. I find it fails to work, and worse than that there are points where the vocal harmonies applied over it are dissonant to my ear, and the lead vocal line is affected and hard to like at the best of times. Not for me. This is the first track that has been a complete flop though, and I feel comfortable declaring this a more easily approached record than the previous listen. Apparently the next track is chock full of Red Hot Chilli Peppers; whatever. It feels bland and boring whenever it isn't Tricky's rasping voice in play, and even then the backing is dull. The weirdness continues when we move on to something based around "Under the Bamboo Tree". It maintains the rhythm of the inspiration and feels really out of place here, light, weightless and plastic - a world away from the interest in the disc which largely resides in the darker parts.

Having said that the next track provides interest in a more positive way. I don't much like the vocal on Diss Never but the way the chorus opens up musically is rather appealing, and there is nothing dark about the feel to this track. That said, I am more engaged when the threat and tension return. I find that Tricky's ear for a good riff is evident here and he has the rasp to really compliment a strong rocky guitar well. Alas what seems to be lacking on Blowback is much in the way of changing up those riffs so that they don't get over repetitive. Either that or the brevity needed to keep tunes to a length that would prevent boredom with the looping. Maybe I've just got a short attention span this evening, though - after all, he's the successful musician. I'll gloss over the bad Nirvana cover (I wouldn't have known but for the album's entry in Wikipedia) as I am not familiar with the original and frankly there is no interest for me in this track anyway. Then the novelty of hearing the voice behind Girls Just Want to Have Fun on a dark track. Sure, Cyndi Lauper is more than that one song, but I'm damned if I know her from anything else. This track is just dull, no life in the rhythm, no life in the duet, no melody at all and far too much repetition, not just in the loops and percussion but also in the lyrics. It feels like it lasts the period described in the title.

Two tracks to go and my overall impression has gone from surprised and positive early on to pretty flatly bored and negative near the end. Flat is probably the best single-work description that I can offer. The early tracks aside there is very little here that lifts any of the tracks above background noise, and when there is, those tracks quickly become flat from lack of variation. This post must read likewise, seeing as it is constantly covering the same theme - and to avoid doing that any further I have nothing more to say about the closing.

At Llangennith - Charlotte Greig

Track list:

1. At Llangennith
2. Willie O'Winsbury
3. That man
4. Free fall
5. Perfect wave
6. Walk on
7. The snows
8. Gotta get you home
9. Over the water
10. Leave it blue

Running time: 54 minutes
Released: 2001

Ah, an old favourite. Comfortable in the way only familiarity can be. This was a real punt in the dark when I bought it. It is a record for a winter's night, snug and warming. A real gem. It is so much a favourite that when I dragged it into "now playing" to see the running time when creating the header of this post immediately after finishing Astronomy for Dogs it tempted me in about 4 notes to run on and do the whole listen immediately.

A cooler head prevailed, and I then found out that Charlotte Greig passed away earlier this year from cancer. Now it is time to tell you why I love this so much and will forever be grateful for one of her creations.

From the gentle opening you get an immediate feel for this disc. Tendrils of soft sound wrap around you like a blanket, offering you cocoa in the bargain. The title track, which opens the disc, is a simple guitar melody, layered a little bit to make a deeper palette and a soft vocal. It is like sitting out on a starry night, looking up into the blackness above and wondering. It is no surprise that it struck the 20(some) year old me, prone to contemplation as I was (am). The main refrain is a strangely compelling one, and even though the song meanders a little towards the end of its run I still find it incredibly compelling.

Next up is a folk classic, which has just a perfect backing here - acoustic hook, haunting soundscape behind it - and is sung with a warmth that transfers fully to the listener. I lose myself if the natural roll of the delivery and the simple repetition of the structure - though it is crafted better than that, little touches abound that break up what could otherwise become monotonous so that each verse is accompanied by subtly different sounds.

In truth, these are the two stand out tracks, but they imprint the album in my mind so hard that everything that follows basks in their glow, then and still. That Man drops the guitar in favour of some keys to lead it and for once this does not work so well - the keyboard is a little too tinny - but the song itself is a simple little tune: rise, fall, rise, fall. A nice lilt that reinforces the sleepy idea of the blanket and hot chocolate. Free Fall brings back the strings and with it the easy, calm invitation that characterises the album as a whole. There is nothing overly complex here, fairly simple melodies, uncomplicated composition and musicianship... just somehow coming together in some kind of magic. In any tune of nearly 9 minutes length you would expect the odd dip, and they are here, for sure. I am more like to overlook the foibles of a record like this though, where the general tone and ambience are so inviting and welcome, like seeing an old friend.

I have a number of other albums by Charlotte Greig, they will turn up here eventually. None of them has ever caught me quite like this one though. Right album, right time of my life or something. I am sure that if I was hearing this for the first time now I would glaze over and miss the charm. It is not a modern album in any sense, and that is welcome. I get a very strong sense of it countering the immediacy of everyday modern life with deliberately slow pace and simple pleasantries. I enjoy it in that spirit, a rejection of fast pace and instant gratification.

Walk On brings back the keys as the primary tune-carrier and here it works better. A melancholic air stirs in me when I hear this tune - it is not a particularly nice narrative, but it is beautifully delivered. In a wise move there is a momentary silence after it ends before The Snows begins. This is a version of The Snow it Melts the Soonest - another folk staple, and one I like a lot. My favourite version (as I had cause to mention before) is by James Yorkston, but the song itself is a strong one, and this version is sufficiently different that it does not fall into the same problem that some others do of direct comparison. The playing here occasionally offers the impression of flickering firelight which keeps the winters night theme going nicely.  We then have a song that I really should not like, but do. Its a love song of a certain type that honestly I think only works in the context of the album as a whole - playing into the long dark night, the need for warmth and, well, companionship. You get the picture.

Over the Water is probably the weakest song on the album. For me it is a mood killer. The change of sound - to a harsher, twangier performance - is not a welcome one. The warmth is still there in the vocal - the style of delivery there is pretty consistent throughout and one of the strongest points of this record - but the music is more distant and less engaging as a result of the shift. The edge to the notes (I think from a dulcimer) is off-putting like nothing else on At Llangennith. Thankfully it is a one-song blip, and the easy roll and gentle strumming of Leave it Blue is a nice way to end the album. Just enough musical interest to keep your attention and the vocal - slightly more floaty than earlier tracks - as fitting as ever.

When I first bought this album I was surprised and enchanted. Coming back to it now I am reassured and contented. I was saddened last night, after I found out about Charlotte Greig's passing, and that was entirely down to my love for this work. Amongst the many things she created - she was a writer, too - I was only familiar with her music and really only with this record; At Llangennith's simple beauty is a worthy monument though.

Angels of the Universe - Hilmar Örn Hilmarsson & Sigur Rós

Track list:

1. Approach/Dream
2. Memory
3. The Black Dog and the Scottish Play
4. Degradation
5. Over the Bend
6. Colours
7. Journey to the Underworld
8. Shave
9. On the Road
10. Another Memory
11. Relapse
12. Coma
13. Schillar in China
14. Helpless
15. Te Morituri
16. Bíum Bíum Bambaló
17. Death Announcements and Funerals

Running time: 41 minutes
Released: 2001

I have the UK version of this, with English track listing. The album is 15 compositions by Hilmarsson and 2 numbers from Sigur Rós on the end. It is a soundtrack to a film I have not seen bought, predictably, because Sigur Rós are mentioned.

That said, I do have music by other Icelandic composers (Ólafur Arnalds has already come up in this project) so whilst I cannot claim familiarity with Hilmarsson there is a good chance I may be interested in his material too. The total time is very short for the number of tracks, with only a few going above 2 minutes... I wonder what magic can be woven in these short pieces.

The opening is fairly dark, not angelic at all, but it opens up after about a minute into a gentle guitar melody and supporting strings which between them craft a nice light space, if a sad one, the guitar sounding mournful and lonely. It closes by drawing in the dark again. Memory... it is as if we have lost ours. New track, very very similar guitar theme, same sort of effect and arrangement. The overall tones here are sombre, moody but touched with a light brush. The guitar of early tracks recedes in later ones in favour of string leads. There are hints of electronic or synth tones too, becoming major features in places; Over the Bend features clicks and percussive electronics quite strongly, meshing this with the string lament. I am not quite sure the combination really works as executed but it is a nice idea before the whole track melts away into weirdness.

This is a soundtrack album, which explains the number of tracks and their breakpoints which, as with Approach/Dream and Memory, do not always make sense or lead to strong similarities between different tracks. It also strengthens the thematic connection, the loneliness and the sombreness, but along with them the sense of a big wide sky and a whole lot of nothingness. I guess that is Iceland for you.

At times the strings get piercingly sharp (I dislike the end of Journey to the Underworld, for instance) but mostly they are rich and deep, enveloping and warm. None of these positive traits manages to oust that singular feeling of being alone in the middle of nowhere though. The visuals I imagine for each track are probably a million miles away from what they actually accompany in the film and I am sure if I had the context of the pictures they partner then the inferences and themes that I took away from listening would be different. How far removed though, I wonder?

Another Memory, a call back to the same theme we heard earlier. Generally I like call back as a technique - particularly in stand up comedy. Musically it is something that can only work when listening to a work in its intended order, so I suspect it will become rarer and rarer going forwards. Concept albums, discs designed to be listened to through and through in order, these things have less place in the modern "download what I like, shuffle everything" world. That is a bit of a pity, though I hold my hand up as being as guilty as anyone of shifting to the new model with regards to home listening. Every so often I will get a hankering for something specific, or endeavour to build a playlist for a certain themed use, but shuffle is far simpler and quicker to get to, even taking all the skipping into account.

I have reached Schillar in China now - through the middle section there have been a couple of tonic shifts, a little more percussion here and there, but it has largely kept the same themes and patterns. I expect a shift for the last two tracks (since Sigur Rós apparently handed over completed tracks for the soundtrack rather than composing songs anew), but the Hilmarsson material has been very consistent on the whole. I like it - though I cannot say I would listen to much of it by choice unless I was specifically in the mood. It does scratch an itch I have though: film scores are great for exposure to more classical composition, something I have never managed in satisfactory manner through other means, much to my own limitation.

According to Eighteen Seconds Before Sunrise Bíum Bíum Bambaló is a take on a traditional Icelandic lullaby. I am a little surprised at how well it fits into Hilmarsson's theme. I should not have been, really - it is pretty classic for the Sigur Rós of 2001 and could easily have come from Ágætis Byrjun. The final track is more of a departure, a rockier piece, their interpretation of a theme played to announce deaths and funerals on Icelandic radio. Quite a dark, brooding track this, more menacing than sombre. It is a harsh way to end a disc that really was not harsh at all.

Overall a pleasing album, better as a whole and approached when in the right spirit for it, but interesting to examine from time to time, too.

And None Of Them Knew They Were Robots - And None Of Them Knew They Were Robots

Track list:

1. Falling Figures
2. Idle Vessels
3. Division Formed Thus
4. Instrument
5. Playsets With Lights
6. An Equation
7. Twenty Six O'One

Running time: 27 minutes
Released: 2001

So this disc was my first exposure to hardcore. A blind gift, I found myself loving it completely unexpectedly, not that I went out and bought myself a load, but I did acquire the rest of the Robots available material - I think it was all free on LastFM at one point (some demos still are).

All I knew before I heard it for the first time was that it was derived from punk, so I was expecting tunelessness and anger. Cliched view, I know. When it opened with a great melodic riff I dropped my jaw and was sucked in. There is definitely anger here... Falling Figures builds to an explosive release, screamed vocals faded down behind twanging guitars and punchy drums. The edgier playing is evident in places too but mostly it has tune that engages. To be honest, after the first bout, I could leave the shouting behind quite happily, but the emotion driving it is part of what makes the track one I love. The rest of this mini-album does not quite reach the same standard for me, but then Falling Figures would be a longshot for a place in my top 10 tunes ever so that does not condemn the rest.

To be honest, I could take or leave Idle Vessels, and I am leaning towards leave. There is less melody and the vocal is far messier, general shouting rather than targeted rage, but then the melodies come back in for Division Formed Thus. The tune has drive, pace and space for a more melodic vocal to shine over that engine that keeps it loud but controlled throughout. That is something else I was expecting but did not receive on first listening to these songs: to be blown out of my seat by exceptional volume. No - the levels are sensible, well controlled and set so that the noisier parts of its constructions do not overshadow the more musical. I came in with so many incorrect preconceptions and poor expectations, and - as with Fig 4.0 - had them peeled away one by one. That was a good few years ago now, and I am still enjoying this a lot. Division Formed Thus runs to 6 minutes, which is a little excessive, and I think the song loses its way a bit in the middle but that is about the only real criticism I would chuck at it.

There is a nice, noisy rumble to Instrument - it is more typical of what I was expecting, in my former ignorance, but far better performed and much more palatable than that former position would have held. I would never want to listen to this particular track more than once in a blue moon, but as the midpoint of the album it fits nicely, guitars humming into my skull, but all at a volume that is suitable. It, like Idle Vessels is noisier and less melodic but sandwiched between 2 songs that play up the melodies more. It is a nice little artefact of the construction. Smooth, rough, smooth. Loud, quiet, loud etc. These have been used by other bands in other areas before and they work here too. OK, so the "smooth" has rough edges, but that is a feature not a bug. Playsets With Lights has a nice rhythm and swell to it but the main line that always sticks in my mind is the top end, the guitar melody, and how it closes.

The last two tracks have not memory association to play on, so what is there? An Equation (free download here) splits the loud/quiet dynamic up with elements of both but errs on the loud side, it is also very short and sweet, before giving in to the hooky guitar intro to Twenty Six O'One. This is an intro melody that gives way to the now familiar spiky chorus of a wall of guitars and screamed lyrics which is over like a flash leaving a very sparse tune to bridge to the next hit of rage and fire. Pretty intense stuff, because you are constantly switching between modes, on edge knowing that it could all kick off any second, and yet 4 of these songs give you the opportunity to settle back and enjoy too.

I love the dichotomy of it, the execution is accomplished and so the whole disc works. Was I thinking of ditching something? Not anymore. I think the album would be weaker without any of these tracks. The energy from the loud tracks sustains whilst the melodies of the more musical ones builds an interest that lasts. I do not believe robots could make music this good.

Amnesiac - Radiohead

Track List:

1. Packt Like Sardines in a Crushd Tin Box
2. Pyramid Song
3. Pulk/Pull Revolving Doors
4. You and Whose Army?
5. I Might Be Wrong
6. Knives Out
7. Morning Bell/Amnesiac
8. Dollars and Cents
9. Hunting Bears
10. Like Spinning Plates
11. Life in a Glasshouse

Running time: 43 minutes
Released: 2001

I thought I had 2 copies of this album - a regular and limited edition. Turns out I am either mistaken or I gave away the regular version at some point, but I still have the limited edition that I received as a 21st birthday present, as I recall.

It has been an age since I listened intently to any of these songs and whilst I can still hear a number of them if I bring them to mind, others are complete blanks. Had you asked me whether I thought I would forget any of these songs in the year after it was released, I would have thought you were mad. Oh the foolishness of youth, and the sad realities of life, growing up and the passage of time. I really liked Kid A despite the change of direction that had lots of people doing a collective WTF? after OK Computer. This album, recorded at the same time as the former, is in a similar mould.

Packt... is all beeps clicks and thumps but unlike say, Animal Collective, the use of them here dovetails with a less cacophonous vocal and a considered backing. It makes it more listenable, but I am not a big fan of this opening. I remember loving Pyramid Song, though. Rich and full whilst being spaced and haunting.  There goes that dodgy memory again: haunting yes, but rich... not so much. The song does build a depth of sound over the course of its run though, structured around the vocal and keys which hold everything together. OK, rich maybe does fit, but not for the whole length of the song. The strings, when they arrive, lend a fullness to the piece and I think they could have been used to bring about a much more fitting ending. It's a fine song that has aged, but gracefully. Which is more than I can say for Pulk/Pull. The only thing that saves this tune from the cut is, well, that it is on this album. I am not averse to deleting tracks from albums, but I am reticent to do so for albums that I have had so long or that I might realistically listen to as albums again. OK, the chance is low, but it is there. Sometimes less palatable tracks are part of the milieu, part of the whole that needs to be considered together. Lets not fudge this: the fact it is on a treasured album from my (relative) youth saves it, even if I would no longer list this disc as a favourite.

You and Whose Army? is a sentiment that I would venture that most young people have rolled around their heads at some point, and I was certainly no different. I think Yorke's vocal really works on this track, and the backing is far better than you might think in passing. I do not recall the variety and the lines other than the sombre piano from 15 years back, but on this listen they stand out nicely. The twang of I Might Be Wrong is a welcome one though. There is something faintly dirty about it, grubby sounds for a grubby future (now past). I could fault it for repetition but the hook is so catchy and the rhythm is interesting enough that it just about manages to swerve me pinning it for that. It swells nicely - or is that me simply imagining the swell? I think it might be the latter. I have to say that where I have been harsh on denouements before now, I quite like the one here, if only for the lonesome sound in the lull before it kicks in. 

Ah, now that mournful refrain was always a favourite. Knives Out is darkly melodic and resonates with me now as it ever has. The echo effect amplifying the lonely air and the creepy lyric. Listening properly there is a bit of a sonic mess here and there in the backing which is interesting because it never overshadows the clear melody. The album has now peaked, I suspect. 

I was never a fan of this version of Morning Bell, a worse rendition of one of the weaker Kid A tracks, I felt. This impression sticks on revisiting it here, and again the song is saved from the cut simply by being on this album rather than another and on we go.

Dollars and Cents sounds virtually nothing like what I remember. The same sounds are there, but the relative levels and the structure are different than in my recollection; my memory had the bassline more prominent and the title more front and centre lyrically. I have to say I prefer the flawed memory version to the real thing, but the song does contain enough interest, bite and drive to still be enjoyable. The rest of the album really is downhill, right brain? Hunting Bears I could not place at all by title, but its lamentations are familiar when they kick in. It makes for an interesting interlude, but nothing more than that.

Wow, the intro to Like Spinning Plates is the first 1 minute 46 seconds, that had not registered at all previously. I recognised the low key pulsing but expected the vocal to kick in much sooner. I do not recall this track fondly, and frankly I find this dull now so thus far, 2 of 3, the memory has the downward slide right. I think I would like Life in a Glasshouse more if it was Tom Waits and not Thom Yorke singing it. The wandering vaudeville style arrangement is more a Waits trait and it would suit a gruff retelling. Humphrey Littleton's trumpet sings out over what otherwise is a tangled old composition. It is actually a much stronger end than I remember it being, and for that I am glad.

The limited edition book

Having listened to the album in full for what must be the first time in a decade at least, Amnesiac stands up reasonably well. Two songs are pretty bad, and two more are simply alright. However there are 11 tracks here, all over fairly quickly, which is another feature that surprises me in hindsight - the 2 minute interlude track aside, everything else is in the 3-5 minute range of the radio-friendly pop song - and most of it is perfectly accessible, even if it does contain elements that may not have been so in 2001. The other 7 range from good to great, sharing a mostly dark in tone which suits a November night.

It is not their best album, nor my favourite, but it is still a fine collection of tunes. I am not surprised to still approve.

Alive - Terry Callier

Track List:

1. Ordinary Joe
2. Step Into The Light
3. Lazurus Man
4. Lament For The Late A.D.
5. African Violet
6. You're Gonna Miss Your Candy Man
7. What Colour Is Love
8. Dancing Girl
9. People Get Ready
10. I Don't Wanna See Myself

Running time: 71 minutes
Released: 2001

Terry Callier is one of my favourite vocalists of all time. He came to my attention in a duet with Beth Orton (Lean On Me - a Callier cover) and I instantly loved his voice. I smiled every time I heard him. His passing at 67 in 2012 was a sad day.

This album was passed to me by a friend who had bought it and not got on with it very well. Unsurprisingly, given the title, it is a live album. Two of the songs stand out to me at a glance: Ordinary Joe is pretty much the definitive Callier song and Don't Want To See Myself was my favourite track from the first album of his I picked up. They bookend these performances; lets find out what lies between them.

I love Ordinary Joe as a song it is just so uplifting whilst having an edge of self-deprecation. This delivery though is a little too quick - the tempo is higher than recorded versions and it spoils the cadence of the lyric a bit for me. The arrangement is also damaged a bit by the pace. It is a fully understandable difference from record to performance but a regrettable one - especially given the extended duration which calibrates as less song, more tune and it is the song I adore. It still has me tapping my foot, but it is a tempered pleasure, not an unbridled one.

I can see why my friend passed on this with the review of "it's too jazzy"; there is a definite light jazz vibe about the instrumentation and an hour and more of it may well wear me down, let alone someone who is not keen on jazz in the first place. I can cope (for now), largely because Callier sings more on Step Into The Light, though it is too much repetition of the title phrase for me to hold it up as a good song. Repetition that is mirrored in the arrangement.

All the tracks are too long here - an affectation of arrangement and live performance for sure, but a 10 track record should not go on for 70 minutes when your tunes are normally sub 5 minute length. That this one does even with one track that runs only for 68 seconds is not a good sign. Oh well - I can always switch off and enjoy the voice. Lazarus man (and Callier was, career-wise - with a long break from recording and performing) is half sung, half spoken, but shows off Callier's soft, expressive and soulful voice brilliantly in both moods. My only issue with it is the length, and to avoid repeating that about each track I should stop typing now... Seriously though, stretching tracks like this just leaves us with dead loops, repeats and rambling passages that lose their way.

Lament... is a tribute, apparently to an unarmed man shot by New York police. Police carrying guns is still thankfully rare in the UK and I hope that can continue for my lifetime but I am far from convinced that it will. I say that not to denigrate those police that do carry (here or elsewhere) but I remember when I went to the US actually feeling less safe seeing police with firearms walking around. It is a visceral thing, and not buying in to the idea of a cycle of escalating violence - after all if one "side" carries, then the other will more likely do so too.

African Violet... I could have sworn I had other versions of this song, but apparently not. Oh wait - somehow, probably thanks to me misreading/mistyping, I have it down as American Violet on Fire on Ice (great album). Duly changed. Stupid fingers and eyes making mistakes years ago when I originally ripped all my CDs. I find the version on Alive too full of dead space, filler sections... I am sounding like a broken record again. As it ends and segues into You're Gonna Miss Your Candy Man the pace and tone changes up a gear. This is a nice lively opening. I have this track down as You're Goin' Miss Your Candyman more than once in my library and that returns hits on the web too; I suspect the source of my track list was wrong. Not Amazon this time though, but I still cannot be bothered to change it now I have noticed. It is a livelier track, and I needed that. There is still too much repetition though, the bass and rhythm sections are particularly guilty of that here. The song has a decent groove, but too long without modifying it dilutes that effect. Thankfully the whole tune is a bit shorter and overall I think it is my favourite so far on the album. The quicker pace is not maintained though, to my chagrin.

Dancing Girl is not a tune I recognise (I appear not to have a recorded version of it) but it is a good vehicle for Callier's vocal, with a low-level accompaniment behind it that is in places reminiscent of certain film soundtracks. The song is 11 minutes, but really it feels like more than one track as the tone and instrumentation change so the length does not come across. Actually the track flies by much faster than some earlier (shorter) tunes and suddenly we reach the closer.

I Don't Want to See Myself was one of the stand-out tracks on Lifetime, the first Callier album I bought, and this performance, whilst it contains longer bridges, is pretty true to my memory of the recording. It is a nice way to close - higher tempo, more upbeat. The bass errs on the side of cheesy at times but that is forgivable. It is not a fantastic tune, but it is a good one that leaves me smiling.

All in all, Alive definitely has its faults, but I find it hard to part with any of the tracks here. I do not have any other live work by Terry Callier, and there will be no more to replace this with something better - may he rest in peace. I challenge anyone to listen to Terry Callier and not fall in love with his voice, the man had more soul than many much more acclaimed stars. He remains a firm favourite, with much better albums to come in due course.

Action Image Exchange - Fig 4.0

Track List:

1. CTRL+ALT+DEL
2. Scapegoat
3. Give up your Day Job
4. Angst 4.0 the Memories
5. A Stranger's Just a Cunt You've Never Met
6. D.T.T.@.H.
7. The Beating of Luke Morgan
8. Your Wisdom, Our Youth
9. It's a Crog!
10. Red Ash
11. Kill Yourself... Before I do it For You!!!
12. Anything 4.0 a Quiet Life
13. Because I'm Worth It
14. The Lord Knows I'm Drinking
15. Bouncers... Die!!!!
16. Start Tomorrow
17. Pissing at the Wind

Running time: 19 minutes
Released: 2001

This was definitely a gift as this style of punk is not really my cup of tea*. 17 songs in 19 minutes is mind blowing pace. I think I keep it on here as it is so very different from most of my music collection. And the last track is almost a match for the title I gave to my last blog.

Dallying would not be in the spirit of this rapid and immediate work, so onward!

It opens with MS sounds, and that annoying "bing!" that too often accompanies a computer error, and the song that follows is a screed. I suspect a theme.

Immediately I am hit with the fact that there's an impressive amount crammed in to some of these songs. Most tracks by most artists have yet to really get stuck in by 1 minute in, but here the whole thing has built and gone. I definitely admire the ability to cram a narrative into that timeframe. Not a full lyrical narrative, but a musical arc - if one accompanied by screaming.

We have today's dose of gratuitous swearing, including the most controversial of all cuss words. Less so in the north, I think. Actually that song is pretty tuneful until the vocal comes in. I toyed with the idea of including commentary on the C-word, but I just do not feel there is interesting discourse there.

7 tracks in already. I really dislike the vocals on this album, but actually their tunes and drive combined are almost infectious. I think I might enjoy it more as an instrumental, but then I suspect that if the vocal (however blah) was not there it would feel empty by its absence.

Your Wisdom, Our Youth is the only "full length" track here, clocking in just under 3 minutes. I would like to say it has more recognisible structure, but the truth is it feels like an elongated version of the other tracks, or perhaps 2 or three strung together. That is not a criticism; it is more a nod to how well constructed those 1-minute wonders are. I thought I might be deleting this before I began, and whilst there are certainly songs here I could happily not hear again, I do not think I will be.  It does its job as a counterpoint to my other music really well and kicks down the door of snobbery over the screaming, short song style. It feels like I have been listening for far longer than I have because each track grabs you, shakes you by the lapels (whilst screaming in your face) before handing you off to its mates. It is an intense experience and despite being occasionally uncomfortable it is not an unwelcome one.

I might have a different opinion of the welcomeness if I was seeing them live. My gut feeling is that such short works would be underwhelming in person, but here - squeezed in between the end of the working day and going out this evening - they fit really well.

Action Image Exchange is an awesome work and now, in hindsight, I am fully appreciative of the gift. It's not in a style I would want to listen to particularly often, nor one that I will pursue for new kicks, but it is a powerful statement that blows preconceptions out of the water. My ears are ringing, and yet the volume was not up that high.

*I say that but there is similar to come.

10000 Hz Legend - Air

Track List:

1. Electronic Performers
2. How Does It Make You Feel?
3. Radio #1
4. The Vagabond
5. Radian
6. Lucky and Unhappy
7. Sex Born Poison
8. People in the City
9. Wonder Milky Bitch
10. Don't Be Light
11. Caramel Prisoner

Running time: 60 minutes
Released: 2001

Is this really 13 years old, predating the death of Brian Clough? One seems a lot longer ago, the other seems more recent (they've just had a 10 year memorial article on the BBC for Clough). It is funny how we see time, and different events on different timelines. Anyway, this is the last album before I start on A. It's only taken a month to get through numbers and punctuation!

10000 Hz Legend is a more muted affair than Moon Safari in some respects. Air crashed into the public consciousness with the latter in the late 90s and suddenly being French was slightly less uncool (I jest!). I remember being hyped to pick this up, especially as Beck was guest vocals on The Vagabond (and I want to say Don't Be Light too, without looking it up; I went off him soon after). And then not being blown away by the whole. Actually in that sense I think this album is pretty much classic Air - fantastic high points, meaning that the whole work is disappointing in comparison.

They veer from quite loud and brash to soft and gentle, and at either end of that scale they have both interest and boredom - sometimes within the same track. How Does It Make You Feel? is a great example of this: the tracks soft acoustic back and raspy whispered vocal are interesting, but the chorus is as dull as anything and leaves me with the feeling the track is not really very well conceived/put together. It is an Air album in microcosm.

Would I call this dated? Not sure. I think there is a case that it is but something like Radio #1 sounds, to me, like the wall of radio-supplied music that I only ever encounter walking around shops. I have never listened to radio much, instead picking up music from associations/recommendations, blind purchases, gigs and latterly LastFM. I suspect the effect is more down to me not really listening in the "out and about" circumstance, and so yes, it is dated. That said, unlike Vangelis' synths from a decade before, to my ears Air's sounds do not have the same artificial, tinny edge. I think there are some noticeably poor sounds in there but in general the age of the album does not seem to account for a loss of sound quality.

I still quite like The Vagabond. Its rhythm is just above soporific, the guitar is plenty engaging and the build is nice. I am, I find, less enamoured of the vocal these days and the ending sucks balls, but the other 5 minutes are pleasant. Radian is, I have a feeling, my favourite track from those presented here. It has a slow burn of an opening that flares into some more life about 3 minutes in. I can forgive the length of the track because that opening does feel like a build, and then when it does flower and open into the light, airy, musical melodies you want them to last a while. It keeps building too; there is still a relatively dark bass and melancholy strains to what is (to me) generally a light, hopeful piece. The comedown on the end is possibly a little longer than I would like but that is a small quibble. It is a definite high point.

I used to think the same of Lucky and Unhappy. Pretty sure I liked this track a lot in times past. Now, though it just feels dull. The constituent parts are all there to make a pretty decent tune and yet I am bored. This is definitely a more dated track; some of the sci-fi electronic whizzes and beeps serve that purpose, along with what feels like a 90s vision of an edgy futuristic beat. I am glad when it gives way to the soft acoustic base of Sex Born Poison, for all of 2 seconds before I hear the "spacy" sounds atop the plucked melody. When the vocal comes in it harks back to Moon Safari in effect but the track takes a nosedive in interest. Later in the piece it picks up again, but for me the damage is already done. I have tuned out. I can see why people might like this track, but it is not for me.

It gives way to a tune that I feel would be much better without a vocal. Musically speaking I like People in the City, lyrically and vocally it is a mess. The distorted vocal simply obscures a nice (and I hesitate to use that word lest it damn with faint praise) structured track that goes through more melodic and darker points but holds together well until the klaxons heralding the end. When I was younger I used to approve of injudicious swearing/bad language more as it was "edgy"; now creative and appropriate use of expletives can still raise a smile (and I acknowledge I swear too much in person; actively avoiding it in shared postings is a nice thing to do) but throwing terms like "bitch" around in titles seems trite and unnecessarily and casually misogynistic. That definitely dates it for me. I find the tune quite boring, too.

Don't Be Light is Beck. It is also one of the better tracks on this album, at least until it slows down for him to read out a monologue. I like the faster pace and driving distortion so when that drops out it is a little disappointing, and the tune never really recovers, but the hard start leaves an impression that I am happy to have last. I will be glad when the album is done though as to be honest the second half is less than impressive. Some of the tunes are not up to snuff, others are just a little weak. I am tempted to cull the electronic versions of several tracks but not ditch the disc. Whilst I am looking to clean out my library I am not necessarily looking to lose access to things that I keep part of.

I have some time to decide on that though, and at least Caramel Prisoner is better than I remember. This listen definitely bolstered my opinion of Air as creators of some great tracks, but ones who generate a lot of chaff too.