Born Like This - DOOM

Track list:

1. Supervillain Intro
2. Gazzillion Ear
3. Ballskin
4. Yessir!
5. Absolutely
6. Rap Ambush
7. Lightworks
8. Batty Boyz
9. Angelz
10. Cellz
11. Still Dope
12. Microwave Mayo
13. More Rhymin'
14. That's That
15. Supervillainz
16. Bumpy's Message
17. Thank Yah

Running time: 40 minutes
Released: 2009

I have no inkling as to why I bought this. It's a complete left field inclusion. It may be that I stumbled over some other hip-hop around that time, found something I liked and looked for more of the same. Still, here it is, so listen I shall. 17 tracks in 40 minutes is quickfire stuff, so even if I don't get on with it (as I expect) it should fly by.

To be honest I have been putting this one off. I have had a few opportunities to listen but been turned away by what was up. Now, I feel guilty enough about my silent week to address it, and it will help cover up the god-awful noise from next door whilst I am at it.

The initial intro is utterly forgettable, then we get into it. I would never have put any "British" in the British-American tag (pilfered from Wikipedia, for what it's worth) on the basis of this track. The track is odd, Casio-tone in places, but I rather like the rhythm of the verse. I find myself enjoying it despite the concerns I had going in. Can't really comment on the lyrics as, like I have said before, I can't really follow someone else's words and write my own concurrently well enough. That said, I wasn't immediately presented with 101 troublesome elements, so call that a tick mark.

The next track slides by, unremarkable but similarly inoffensive, before Yessir! makes extensive use of the N word. Reclaimed or not, it stands out, and here there is plenty of language that makes me roll my eyes. It seems to lack the craft or charm of Gazzillion Ear too - no interest in the rhythm, the backing track means that the lyrics stand out more. That, or we're sensitive to the things we don't like and so it hit me here despite my typing.  There may be a little bit of an old and unwelcome idea in Absolutely, but the track is far more pleasant... however the overall tone seems to be sliding into a comic book evil. That is intentional, clearly. Functioning as intended. I don't much like the intent or the result though. I find the linking between tracks and the cutting between tones (like switching scene) to be a little abrupt, especially as each track is pretty short.

Content and concept aside, I rather like DOOM as an MC - insofar as his delivery is clear and there is a nice bassy tone to his voice. That said there is no excuse for the homophobic screed that is Batty Boyz; I feel dumber for having experienced it.

This contrast - between clear style and skill and incredibly questionable choice of subject and language - is something I really struggle with when it comes to hip hop. There are elements I really like, but almost inevitably they come along with problematic elements - misogyny, violence, homophobia, drugs in the content. It is impossible to escape, and impossible to stop them influencing the impression of tracks that don't exemplify those ideas. I find it much harder to separate art and artist when the problems are endemic within the form I guess. Yet a number of these tracks have had pretty decent composition, and I like the delivery for the most part. It is just the message that falls flat, but that flatness pollutes the entire output. That is particularly frustrating in a case like this where the elements are not as all pervasive as in some (and probably some I have to come).

I find myself without many words to share as the album winds down. My ears have not disliked much of it; there are bits and pieces here and there where the combination of music and words is not at all pleasant, but for the most part the construction of the album is very solid. However my mind won't let me enjoy any of it and I find myself not wanting to engage with it again, even those tracks that I thought were put together really well, with samples that sung in combination with the gruff vocals. Ah well.

Born in the U.K. - Badly Drawn Boy

Track list:

1. Swimming Pool
2. Born in the U.K.
3. Degrees of Separation
4. Welcome to the Overground
5. A Journey From A to B
6. Nothing's Gonna Change Your Mind
7. Promises
8. The Way Things Used to Be
9. Without a Kiss
10. The Long Way Round / Swimming Pool
11. Walk You Home Tonight
12. The Time of Times
13. One Last Dance

Running time: 53 minutes
Released: 2006

As the image to the left suggests, I have the faux-passport edition of this album, an annoyingly sized package that does not fit nicely on my shelves, but does house a second disc (a DVD I've never looked at) and provide a physical object to make still owning the product more of a thing. I got into Badly Drawn Boy after Hour of the Bewilderbeast was Mercury nodded, although I think it may be more correct to say that I got into about 4 tracks, enough for me to have bought more since and not really listen to any of it much. I recognise a few track titles here fondly though, so I don't think it was necessarily that much of a misstep. 

We start with an intro, light piano and a spoken spiel that gives way to an odd little sung song about a swimming pool, for a back garden I guess. It feels longer than its 1 and a half minutes before it gives way to the title track, which interpolates Land of Hope and Glory to start with before becoming a fairly dull and repetitive guitar beat. The vocal is more interesting, and the rhythm of the lyrics is a joy, by far the most interesting thing in the song. I don't much like the final effect because I find the guitar overpowering, and the addition of chimes distracting.

I am finally getting around to another listen, almost 2 weeks after the last. Not quite the first of 2016, but near as damn it on the 14th. I have been a mixture of too busy and distracted by Fallout. Bolt on insufficient sleep, boundary issues and niggling little car tasks and the year hasn't started with me in the best frame of mind. I was all set to waste this evening, too, before a lucky last second goal in Rocket League picked me up, gave me the energy to cook a nice meal and tackle this listen. Degrees of Separation (I had to re-type that four times not to start spearing) is a much more accessible song, more of a melody, a bit of variation in the themes, but it has mostly passed as I bemoaned the beginning of this year. I seem to be sighting almighty alliteration a little tonight. Oh well, smile at the little things, eh? Welcome to the Overground keeps a peppier feel to it, drums and keys meshing nicely. It feels like a feelgood number, uplifting. It also feels... shallow somehow, like there isn't really that much to prop it up. I don't mind that though as it breezes by fast enough.

I get a strange Half Man Half Biscuit feel from the next track, I guess because the lead melody is weirdly whimsical because I lose it fairly quickly as the song progresses, and I find myself getting bored of the little piano loop and a flat-feeling ride. He tries to inject some life here and there, but I find it lacking in heart and, ultimately, in appeal. If that was a low point, we move on to a high. Nothing's Gonna Change Your Mind is the track I remember from this album. It begins as a basic piano ballad, a slightly strained voice over a spare melody. We then get a change up, drums enter and the piano goes from sparse to more energetic. Just a bridge before a return to still fairly ballad-like mode... but its a sign of what is to come. We hit the chorus and there is a gentle, but noticeable impulse and energy to the singing and there is more passion and heart in the next stanza. It never really reaches a proper crescendo, teetering on the edge of bombast, held back, reserved, but hinting at a good idea, a solid heart... its just a very pleasant tune, despite never quite reaching the potential it hints at. I find it fascinating that a tune that disappoints me by not being all it can be nevertheless manages to be a real gem. That gentle energy a loving touch, enough for it to shine. That paragraph is a mess, but seriously - there is just enough promise in the song to help it stand out, even as it fails to deliver on everything it set out.

Gee am I tired. I started this feeling resigned but determined to get back on track. Half way through I am feeling washed out. Part of that might be the uniformity of these tracks. The timbre and tone is generally the same, Gough's voice is slightly one-note and musically the constructions seem to share more than they might. Its all very... wallpapery. Background sound, rather than engaging earworms. Nice rather than good. I think this last one is part of what makes Nothing's Gonna Change Your Mind stand out - its a genuine push towards a great tune, even if it just ends up good. It offers something more than a musical backdrop to some other activity. I am kicking myself, because I seem to have lost a sheet of paper where I had recorded birthdays of extended family. I may be good at some things, but I can't keep birthdays in mind at all, and January is lousy with them. Guess what I am doing this weekend?

These numbers in the heart of the album are longer and it feels it. Not massively so, but enough to notice. I have reached the lower key Without a Kiss. I rather like the chorus of this, where the piano actually shows some development, but the verses basically have a loop accompaniment and it is too obvious to enjoy. An attempt at pattern breaking also doesn't work, the odd jaunty rhythm - a heartbeat effect? - feeling at odds with the overall tone of the song as it becomes more evident. The whole song suffers for it, but it does have the bonus of making the opening of the next track seem pretty darn good. It is light and cheesy - almost muzak like in some senses, the brass has a cheesy, lounging edge to it - and more positive which is welcome. It is still wallpaper music but it is pitched at the right tone for me now. Slightly subdued, but definitely more happy than sad. Until the Swimming Pool reprise, at least. Could do without that.

My mind is definitely starting to wander; I am out of the habit of this and it is proving hard to keep focus. The radio-bland nature of the compositions here probably doesn't help that. The sounds are perfectly enjoyable, but they feel perfunctory and rote rather than played with passion to my ear - mostly because the repetition of the loops is just a little too front and centre. If those loops were slightly weaker and didn't stand out from the backing so clearly I might not have picked up on just how much the songs rely on them. There is nothing wrong with a little repetition, but here the variations are too soft, relegated to the background so, rather than support a tune that weaves around their framework, the repeated hooks become the tracks. The melodies that one would normally follow to break up the cycle are hidden, inaccessible. They are there if you lean in, look for them, but they go missing too easily behind the din.

I am more positive about the final track. Some bum notes here and there it seems, but the cadence of the vocal is back to its best. The drums are still a little too strong for my taste and... actually no. 3 minutes in the structure of this tune has got to me too. I think I have no patience tonight, and my ear seems to be latching onto the worst things in each track. Ugh - I don't like being this negative; I don't think it is wholly deserved. I think I need to give this album another chance, but I am not about to do a repeat listen, so I will settle on leaving the tracks in my library for the time being. Another mess at the start of 2016; they are stacking up.

Boots Met My Face - Admiral Fallow

Track list:

1. Dead Against Smoking
2. Squealing Pigs
3. Subbuteo
4. Delivered
5. These Barren Years
6. Old Balloons
7. Bomb Through The Town
8. Four Bulbs
9. Taste The Coast
10. Dead Leg
11. The Sad Clown Cast

Running time: 48 minutes
Released: 2010

I can't remember which festival I saw Admiral Fallow at, I suspect it might have been End of the Road. I was immediately struck by their set and their similarities in origin, demeanor and sound to King Creosote. This of course meant I had to buy up their album when I got home. So I did, and here we are. I don't listen to it much, but I occasionally use Subbuteo to kick off a shuffled playlist; it is the one song I can put any sound to now. I didn't really get on with the follow up album but I am hoping that this will be going back and enjoying a gem that I have overlooked too long.

A wistful clarinet starts us off with a sadness-tinged tune supported by one-note strumming. A strong Scottish accent adorns the voice of our vocalist when he enters the piece, along with drums. The track has built nicely - keys, drums and guitars replacing the woodwind carrying most of the tune. Its a slow, downbeat number, but not overwhelmingly so - there is hope in some of the brighter notes; hope in the context of sadness. I really like the effect, even though the melodies are just recycling by this point.

It is 10.30am on 1 January 2016. I suppose I should say Happy New Year. Replacing the lush sounds of Dead Against Smoking is a lone acoustic guitar rambling through a melody with vocal accompaniment. The pace is higher, emphasised when the drums join in. I am less taken with this tune; the central hook is fine and the execution is alright but it feels as though it is lacking something relative to what went before. A great screech and crescendo adds nothing. Hah, screech is in the lyrics; funny how we pick things up subconsciously - I only noticed after using the term myself. I am so glad when it ticks over to Subbuteo - this song has a real attraction to me. Light guitar hook, wistful air, soft vocal and a less than pretty picture painted by the lyrics - it feels heartfelt and personal, a portrait of a childhood. The structure, spread out single beats below the busy guitar and supported by a background quietly laid behind it all but managing to lift it up all the same, gives a really solid core. It builds suddenly into a crashing, cry for help of an outro; I thought there was a more impassioned plea in the vocal to go with that - maybe I missed it this time, but more likely I misremembered it.

We drop back to guitar and voice for Delivered. I don't think the group are as good when stripping out the depth of sound that we have had from woodwind, strings, keys and drums. This is noodly nothingness. There is, however a great musicality in the vocal... and of course as I type that he goes for notes that don't quite work, giving a jarring sound. Not a great track, but a brief one. The larger sound is back for These Barren Years. I am not taken with what lyrics I pick up here, but there is a nice rounded rumble to the progression of the tune up until the point they start repeating the chorus when I feel that it all falls apart. It isn't interesting enough to support heavy repetition.

The album seems to alternate between big sounds and smaller ones. Old Balloons is stripped back again, a rapid looping guitar hook and piano tune. It threatens to explode into a larger number at moments but has yet to quite manage it. Eventually the electric pickup arrives with drums and it is a relief - not that the opening was bad, but that the promise to expand was not an empty one. The keys become grander in scale with it, carrying the bulk of the tune, and the keys are all that is left once the crescendo has passed and the track begins to build again. I find myself enjoying the piece despite myself when it goes all mental for the last minute. A chorus played with extra intensity, pace and volume and repeated twice is the end of the vocal and the end of the track. The build felt like it deserved that end, rather than in some cases where the explosion of activity feels unmerited.

We have a female lead vocal on Bomb Through the Town, a floating voice over a backing that grows on me as she starts holding notes for longer. The harmony when the regular lead singer joins in is an odd one. It doesn't always work, but when it does it is really sublime. The thing is their disparate voices handle some notes very differently - strain against natural inclinations - but where they are both in range they offset each other nicely, not competing for space. The tune is actually dull as anything. A plodding drone, the only good thing to say is that I only really noticed how boring it is once the vocal was no longer present. I don't know about rediscovering a gem, but this listen is interesting - a bit more thought provoking for me than some recently. For instance, I find myself wondering to what extent ones surroundings influence the creations we make, with this album clearly identifiable as Scottish even without the accents.

Taste the Coast is pleasantly happier, pacier and catchier. Harmonies again in the chorus, a homecoming tale. There is a moment in the middle of the song where the busier elements of the backing drop out and we get a simple chorus with that harmony and it is a lovely little moment. The happy buzz disappears for the lead out. Vocals start repeating a line that had not appeared to date, pace drops, a subdued piano wandering comes in... it all works much better than it should in truth. The same cannot be said of the penultimate track, a 7 minute long oeuvre, the first half of which is disappointingly barren, not much music and a vocal that doesn't inspire. We get a bit more development past the half way mark but it is still staid and plodding. The development is limited, too - I kept expecting it to build further and do a little more to replace the vocal, which has vanished, but we just repeat the same phrase over and over. This one is for the scrap heap.

The bonus track on the end (I don't think it was on the original 2010 release; the album was re-issued in 2011) uses electronics that immediately make me think of Mogwai, specifically tracks from Hardcore Will Never Die But You Will - this album being produced by Paul Savage, who has a hand in producing that record, and many others I own. I miss the rest of the tune whilst confirming that, but while it is a low key ending, it is a far more fitting one that Dead Leg's disappointment.

The Bootleg Series, Volume 2 - Bob Dylan

Track list:

1. Seven Curses
2. Eternal Circle
3. Suze
4. Mama, You Been On My Mind
5. Farewell, Angelina
6. Subterranean Homesick Blues
7. If You Gotta Go, Go Now
8. Sitting On A Barbed Wire Fence
9. Like a Rolling Stone
10. It Takes a Lot to Laugh, It Takes a Train to Cry
11. I'll Keep It With Mine
12. She's Your Lover Now
13. I Shall Be Released
14. Santa-Fe
15. If Not for You
16. Wallflower
17. Nobody 'Cept You
18. Tangled Up in Blue
19. Call Letter Blues
20. Idiot Wind

Running time: 76 minutes
Released: 1991

Time for some Dylan. I am pretty sure this was a gift at some point and not something I went out to buy myself, which may explain why I only have volume 2. Whilst I have a sprinkling of Dylan, and recognise his importance and stature, his influence on a lot of the musicians I love, I don't share any real love of his work. I wonder what sitting through 76 minutes of just him will do for me.

Seven Curses starts us off with a pleasant little picked acoustic melody, a bright sound but a melancholic air to the little loop that suits the lyrics well. Weirdly it feels as though this tune would be a good fit for the soundtrack of Life is Strange - the guitar loops very at home with the feel of that game. It is a strong start from my perspective, but I am less taken with Eternal Circle which sees Dylan's voice have a more prominent impact on the tone of the song. I have never really got on with his delivery and when it is strong relative to the accompaniment as it is here then it begins to grate. That and the backing was pretty bland.

We hit a more interesting melody next - a bit more going on in Suze - and an extra layer courtesy of a mouth organ, though the timbre is a little shrill for my taste. This is a 2 minute instrumental which is fine... until a weird end when Dylan coughs, which gives the tune its subtitle of "The Cough Song" and leaves a poor impression. Listening to 4 in a row now, it strikes me that tune-wise there is a reliance on little repeated sections. They sound relatively simple, too - though not being a guitar player I wouldn't like to say they actually are. I guess this is one reason why people think Dylan's songs are best when covered by others - a little more invention in the performance. Speculation on my part, I guess, though his rather hard-to-love voice is probably another factor.

My problem is that here where, for the most part, it is just him and his guitar, the repetitive nature of the playing is so darn obvious and rather detracts from the songs. I suspect each song individually would not invoke this problem, as a single tune based on an oft-repeated loop with very little elaboration is one thing. Many in a row is another matter, at least to my ear; when the only other thing to hook onto is Dylan's voice I feel between a rock and a hard place... I don't really dislike any of the tracks, just experiencing them back-to-back.

At least Subterranean Homesick Blues breaks things up a bit. It manages this by shifting tone and tempo more than changing the basic formula. The faster pace, and warmer sound on the strings help, and the tune is gone before I know it. It seems to have marked a turning point on this record as the next track is also faster and warmer - and this time with extra depth provided by a band and harmonies on the chorus. There's a nice drive to it, the keys in the background adding a rounded tone. The keyboard remains through Sitting on a Barbed Wire Fence too - though on this track they loop in a less interesting way, with a harsher trill to it, which starts to irk me after 2 minutes. The song has a nice bluesy feel to it, but my enjoyment of that feel is tempered a lot by the staid repetition and I find myself very glad when it starts to fade out.
 

Like a Rolling Stone is piano-driven here, pretty dull melody, the embellishments of an organ trill and harmonica don't help, and the track then ends abruptly; a live recording where Dylan says his voice has gone, and if he thinks it is bad... We approach the half way point with a tune that from its core structure sounds like it wants to be Everybody Needs Somebody but doesn't have the heart or soul to manage it. It then veers off into a series of spikier sounds, none of which I think quite gel with the vocal and leave me actively disliking the track, so much so that when I'll Keep it with Mine returns to a more subdued sound I welcome the switch. This track feels like a recording experiment; it may be my ears but it sounds like volume levels are subtly shifting throughout this piece - which despite that aural illusion is probably the most enjoyable song since track 1. Muted keys, a slower pace and a more relaxed vocal - it has a more comfortable sound, warm and easy, supportive. And if you get what I mean there you must be some kind of savant!

She's Your Lover Now is a 6 minute track which I worry about, but it starts at a high clip, with a nice blend of instruments and with Dylan not dominating with his vocal. I like the cadence, the roll of keyboards and the rumble of the drums, the longer syllables even rather than a clipped end of line. Everything about the track holds together well through the first half at least, and even an interruption to receive a parcel doesn't break the mood. Far from being something to worry about, this is the high point to date. The tempo is maintained, the tune feels more varied (even though it probably is not) but really it is the synergy between the keys and drums that carry it. The only issue is the very abrupt end which, for a track of that length is a surprise.

I Shall Be Released slows everything down, I rather like the sentiment and the structure but the execution here leaves something to be desired in ways I cannot quite put my finger on. Whilst I try to find a good explanation we roll on to Santa-Fe. Should that be hyphenated, really? This sounds like a jumble of everything and nothing. No substance, but an awful lot of sound. I am not keen. Track 15 and there is still another half hour to go, with two more long ones in the last quarter. This take on If Not For You I rather like - warmer and fuller of sound, and slower than other versions (I have 2 more in my collection it seems) it has the heart to connect music and lyrics more strongly than the stripped back recordings.

I think that recording might spoil Wallflower, which follows. It is just so inferior in every sense as to be anonymous, like the titular figure. An apt piece of songwriting and album ordering perhaps, but a nothingness of a track for me, and Nobody 'Cept You hardly improves on it either. Country stylings don't help, nor does the constant swell of sound or the uninspired vocal. I am not being very charitable here, but I simply felt nothing for these tracks at all.

Two big ones in the last three. Tangled Up In Blue is 7 minutes, Idiot Wind nine. The former returns us to guitar and voice territory but it is miles away from the acoustic pickings that we heard early on, there is a depth to it - a couple of supporting players can really help with that! - that gives the tune a real rounded quality. The bright strings are never too strong, and likewise Dylan's voice is never too harsh here. I don't really think the track needs to be as long as it is - the story of the song might be cut short by reducing the length but my patience for it starts fraying sometime around 5 minutes. I can't help but feel that an edited version of the song without a verse or two would be a superior experience - not that this one is unpleasant. It draws down just before I finally lose goodwill with it, and we get a blues number before our epic closer. I rather like this insert. Tonally its a nice break between the marathon tracks and it has a nice rhythm - at least for the first 2 minutes. After that it starts to grate, the song really needed to be building for a finish under 3 minutes not prolonging for 4 and a half. There is no significant elaboration until just before the 4 minute mark, which is criminal. A really solid base thrown down the pan by extending it past the point of interest before doing anything with it. Idiot Wind is not a very nice song. It leaves a sour taste and I find the style quite dull too. Others are free to love it and call it classic and so on, but I'll be over here disliking it and never listening to it by choice again. 

So, where does that leave me? Some gems, some duds, lots of Dylan back-to-back was a bit of an ordeal but a sprinkling here and there is pretty welcome. Back where I started, then.

Achtung Bono - Half Man Half Biscuit

Track list:

1. Restless Legs
2. Corgi Registered Friends
3. For What Is Chatteris...
4. Shit Arm, Bad Tattoo
5. Surging Out Of Convalescence
6. Upon Westminster Bridge
7. Joy Division Oven Gloves
8. Mate Of The Bloke
9. Asparagus Next Left
10. Depressed Beyond Tablets
11. Bogus Official
12. Letters Sent
13. Twydale's Lament
14. We Built This Village On A Trad. Arr. Tune

Running time: 40 minutes
Released: 2005

I think I wrote way back that I really ought to pick up more Half Man Half Biscuit records; I didn't until Boxing Day this year when, spurred on by a couple of random plays of HMHB songs in the days before Christmas, I finally found the impetus to do so. I failed to fit a listen in yesterday because I was board gaming all day, so had a shuffle on in the background instead. However as England have polished off South Africa early today I can fit this in this morning.

I have not listened to any of these songs before, really... voyage of discovery, but I have an idea of what I am in for. Amusing lyrics and simple but catchy tunes, short and sweet. I was not expecting a (disgraced monster) Rolf Harris reference though. The problem with listening to this for the first time whilst writing a post is... well, to appreciate HMHB you really need to be free to hear the words. Add to that the short over and done nature of their tunes - packing 14 into 40 minutes here - there isn't really much spare time to comment. Or if you do comment, you are missing much of the point. That being the case, and sticking to generalisms, they manage to pack an awful lot into each track. There isn't much empty space - if you have much of a stretch of music with no lyrics you have a longer track than the usual. And in context that still means sub 4 minutes.

Musically, the simple little rolls pretty much exist purely to support the rhythm of the lyrics and as such the two dovetail really well. Execution is proficient not masterful and the heavily (natural) accented vocal is a breath of fresh air, even if the singing is not the most musical you'll hear. Style varies from ballad-like ditties to punkier numbers and tone from jovial to pissed off so all in all it is a pretty varied ride. I am 5 tracks in now, and Surging Out of Convalescence is probably the most musical of them so far, it has a bit more body to it, it builds a little more, interplay between the guitars and drums adds a dimension lacking from earlier tracks, even if what it builds to is repeated loops. It is really hard to dislike this, it feels like music made with a giant smile on their faces one way or another, which lends it a charm that carries it past whatever deficiencies are present.

Cheery lines about wanting to shoot other bands aside, the funniest part of Upon Westminster Bridge is a reimagining of Partridge in a Pear Tree that works surprisingly well. We are almost half way. It feels as though the listen has been going for longer than that but in a good way. Rather than dragging, the density of the tunes means each gives the impression of a couple of minutes longer than they are and rattling through many of them means by the end it may feel like a double album! I am not so taken by Joy Division Oven Gloves, love the title but the actual song is basically nonsense rather than a comprehensible tale of some kind. The offbeat stories are the best bits of HMHB so when they present random strings of things instead the veneer chips off and the limitations of their structure becomes much clearer. The stories often make no sense, so out there can they be, but they are almost guaranteed to raise some kind of smile.

The flip-flop from ambling to crashing, ditty to punk, and back is a nice way of getting you on side too - injecting energy now and again and preventing the parade of comedy songs from becoming too samey and trite.

I have reached Letters Sent. This seems to be a nice song composed of concatenated open letters to various recipients, the joins apparent in context but not explicit. It begins as an acoustic trill, then goes electric, but this doesn't (as I would have expected) coincide with the letters becoming more vitriolic; missed a trick there perhaps. Vitriol is certainly present in Twydale's Lament, though it fizzles before the end of the song and I get the feeling the album is petering out.

The final track title is genius, or at least I think it is knowing and amusing both. The track itself a simple little number and probably a very fair example of a Half Man Half Biscuit song. Little light melody, solid repeating hook, smile-inducing lyrics, a bit of chanted harmony. A fine ending rather than the damp squib Twydale promised. I need to listen to this more to get a sense for most of the lyrics, but I am already glad I picked it up.

The Boombox Ballads - Sweet Baboo

Track list:

1. Sometimes
2. Got To Hang On To You
3. You Are Gentle
4. Two Lucky Magpies
5. The Boombox Ballad
6. You Got Me Time Keeping
7. Walking In The Rain
8. I Just Want To Be Good
9. Tonight You Are A Tiger
10. Over & Out

Running time: 39 minutes
Released: 2015

Complete change of tone from the last album now. I can't remember what made me pick up music by Sweet Baboo in the first place, but something made me buy Ships, which I absolutely loved. Thus I snapped this up when it came out this year then... I hardly engaged with it. Time to give it a second chance.

It begins with a guitar hook and our performer's rather distinctive voice. A slightly strained, off-kilter tone combines with generally nerdy or off-the-wall lyrics to make Sweet Baboo a one-of-a-kind. Here the song also contains a rather more orchestrated section, horns and strings giving a bigger, more produced sound. I am not sure that really works. I rather like the basic form here, but the more extravagant sections cave it in and replace it with something less immediately lovable.

The geekiness returns for track 2, and I wonder if I ever listened to this at all. I thought I had, but this rings no bells at all. Still, a self-aware song about playing music to a lover is precisely the sort of thing I expect to hear. This track harks back to decades past in a pleasant way, with a nice pop-y sound and good clean fun, and that call to the past persists into You Are Gentle, where only the odd harmony in the keys hints at the experimental side of Sweet Baboo, if you ignore the lyrics that is. I find this style enjoyable. When he nails it, Sweet Baboo produces an effortless cool and there are elements of that here. It goes a little bizarre as the track draws down, the tones going a little too electronic to maintain the mirage of an older tune. It rather spoils the tune.

The next offering is again using a piano and strings... this feels a lot more mature than Ships. Less fun, perhaps, and less immediately lovable, but a true development and delivery of something new. It is so completely different, perhaps that is why I didn't get on with it on first exposure. Not what I thought it was when I bought it, especially given the title which evokes thoughts of lo-fi home recordings rather than more arranged pieces. Now, approaching it open minded and without expectation, I am charmed.

The title track is a bit more off the wall, a quirky little instrumental, and is merely a speedbump before a more upbeat track. You Got Me Time Keeping is peppy duet. The female singer joining in here is also suitably geeky of voice and the two bounce off each other well in the first minute and a half of the track before it all grows up a bit. This song is 7 minutes long, a significant departure from the short, direct length of the rest. This appears to give it more than enough time to jump the shark. It begins a high tempo number, turns into a slow ballad, then introduces a weirdness and a darkness that I find bleeds off any of the interest that the former change up maintained. Discordant strings overbear the fragile voices with a drone that I find incredibly unpleasant. Then, just after 5 minutes, the nice quick duet it started as cuts back in, geeky lyrics to the fore. Frustrating. I wish I could simply chop out the four minutes in the middle and re-engineer the track into something core coherent and enjoyable; it would only stretch to two (maybe add a half) minutes though.

Walking in the rain? No thanks. The song is nice in the faint praise kind of way - pleasant but unengaging. It smacks of TV advert music or period drama montage music to me. This lacks either immediate charm or considered appreciation. It feels a little as though this record is caught between a natural output and a conscious attempt at something more adult - which is a shame, because frankly unashamed geekdom is in relatively short supply and I could have done with more of it. And because when the matured sound is put forward and committed to, that works. It is just that some tracks seem to get caught between the two and I don't think they are tastes that go well together. It can work if music is one and lyric is the other, or when elements of each are used in concert, but wavering between the two styles rather than committing to an approach was what killed the centrepiece of the album for me.

I have to say I rather like the last couple of tracks. Over & Out has a slow pace that I think Sweet Baboo uses better than most, finding natural rhythms with a cadence of coolness, lounge without the cheese (or with a very specific type of cheese at least). All in all this feels like a mixed bag. Less pop than Ships, but I reckon a couple of the tunes here could grow on me given a chance.

Bone Machine - Tom Waits

Track list:

1. Earth Died Screaming
2. Dirt in the Ground
3. Such a Scream
4. All Stripped Down
5. Who Are You
6. The Ocean Doesn't Want Me
7. Jesus Gonna Be Here
8. A Little Rain
9. In the Colosseum
10. Goin' Out West
11. Murder in the Red Barn
12. Black Wings
13. Whistle Down the Wind
14. I Don't Wanna Grow Up
15. Let Me Get Up on It
16. That Feel

Running time: 53 minutes
Released: 1992

Back to Waits now. Unlike Alice and Blood Money I have not listed to a lot of this at any point, only heard the tunes in a shuffle. As a result I don't have a picture of the album going in based on anything more than the title and song names - and that picture is not pretty. Nor is the cover art.

Christmas has been and gone, and I am looking forward to a few days off, at home, where I might get through a number of listens. This being the first. I have been staring at it for a week, not in a Tom Waits mood. To be honest I still am not, but whereas pre-Christmas I could put it off, now I ave no excuses. I wish I did though - this sort of intense darkness is best approached in appropriate mind. Rambling percussion, husky muttered vocal and a wailing chorus make Earth Died Screaming a difficult opening, the only musical sounds arriving at the death. Thankfully Dirt in the ground, whilst maintaining the downtrodden darkness, also keeps the melodic aspects too. A soft piano and sax combo is a very understated but pleasant form, moreso than the strained stylings Waits puts into his voice here.

The shambling piano, so soft as to disappear at times, is really atmospheric and effective. The sax gets wearing, as does the vocal, but although it is limited, the keyboard tune keeps giving enough of a softening edge to make the tune enjoyable. After a short pause to collect the first of my winter sale shopping (2 pairs of jeans, 2 Half Man Half Biscuit CDs and 2 videogames) from a courier it is on with with this show.

Such a Scream confirms that the listen is a trial today. This is, for me, not Waits at his best. I prefer his more maudlin but melodic efforts over this edgy material. I find All Stripped Down to be a title that works on 3 or four levels, but a song that offers me very little. I am grateful that it is 16 tracks in 50 minutes, not 10. The quicker turnaround makes each track less of a trial of patience. I say that as if I hate this; I do not. Its just a bit more intense and dark than I want just now. Thankfully, Waits wanders and Who Are You is a bit more coherent and musical again. The voice and the backing do not quite seem to match up, out of sync in a tiny but charming way, I rather like this one. I can only think it is no co-incidence that Kathleen Brennan is credited as a co-writer on this and Dirt in the Ground, but not the other three I have enjoyed less.

Ah, now this... while creepy is also kinda cool. The Ocean Doesn't Want Me is another What's He Building in There? Odd sounds in the background, percussion leading the ear whilst Tom delivers his message in that ever-distinctive gravelly voice, spoken rather than sung. This is far more effective at building a 'nicely' odd and nasty atmosphere than the broken percussive sounds on earlier tracks and whilst creepier, less arduous to listen to at the same time. This sort of sound is very uniquely Waits, and in the right mood it is glorious; in a post-family come down state as I am today it is wide of the mark. Unlike Alice, or even Blood Money, Bone Machine is failing to have the magic that can make me be in the right mood after the start. I don't think this album quite has the same lightning in a bottle feel to it. From Little Rain we hit another run of co-penned tracks, the first of which does remind me a little of Alice, which I appreciate. This run is not a step away from the percussion and bare-bones structure setup of the album though. In the Colosseum suffers from over-repetition of the title in the lyrics of the chorus and I find it overstays its welcome too - stretching out to almost 5 minutes in total. The length (hardly the longest of tunes ever) is felt because of the reliance on thumps and bangs more than anything else.

Ah, Goin' Out West has a bit more of a groove to it, strong enough that the opening line was almost inaudible actually, and it strikes me as unusual for Waits' voice to be subservient to the music in the way it is here. It still has all the same characteristics, but the recording levels are such that the bassy twang that structures the tune is definitely sharing the stage with the drums, pushing the vocal to the fringes. It creates a really interesting tune - Waits almost his own backing vocalist here, and the space within the piece feels back to front in an attractive way. I like it. The theory that co-writing tempered the more out-there tendencies may still hold, but that it suggested more melody is simply wishful thinking. There is still very little of that here. There are gems here all the same though. I love the opening of Black Wings, with a tempered edge to Waits' vocal - a film montage voice-over quality to it, which suits the music perfectly. I could swear that I've seen this movie... There is a subdued nature to this piece, but a definite quality - for me it is the pick of the album thus far by a mile - so evocative with so little.

Hah, just to put the nail in the coffin of my early-claimed revelation, Whistle Down the Wind is precisely the maudlin songster Waits that I love, in terms of tone at least, and the song is penned on his tod. Disheveled, tumbledown, haggard - the piano in Waits finest moments brings these words to mind. Playing and producing glorious melodies despite its condition, filling spaces and halls that crumble and fester in worlds that are not nice places to be. Rays of light in the darkness of a hopeless world, and all the more magic for it. Maybe I am growing into the right frame of mind for this album just as it is coming to a close, but the second half is far more engaging than the first was. More likely, I think, the songs are more accessible - a bit less percussion, a bit more melody, a bit more to latch on to. The first half was genuinely a bit of a chore, and a couple of the tracks really dragged but it ends strongly in terms of the atmosphere and emotion it produces so I am willing to let it off the hook.

Bon Iver, Bon Iver - Bon Iver

Track list:

8. Calgary

Running time: 4 minutes
Released: 2011

Oh my - what a post title. There is some confusion as to whether the correct title is doubled up as here or a single instance of Bon Iver. The latter seems more likely but some sources say otherwise and this form is weirder. In any case, I only have one track from this album (though I do have For Emma, Forever Ago) and I don't know where it came from, I would guess a LastFM freebie. I never picked up the rest of the album, which could mean I didn't like this much, or that I never listened to it. 

It is not what I expected. Synth background and high pitched vocal. I find the track a nothingness if I am honest. The addition of a drum beat is welcome, but I don't get on with the vocal or the constancy of those synth notes. When they stop, the percussion has completely taken over and whilst it was welcome it was not interesting enough to be that prominent. I think I see a good reason why I did not follow up with a purchase. Not for me.

Bombshell - King Creosote

Track list:

1. Leslie
2. Home in a Sentence
3. You’ve No Clue Do You
4. Cowardly Custard
5. Church as Witness
6. There’s None of That
7. Nooks
8. Now Drop Your Bombshell
9. Admiral
10. Cockle Shell
11. Spystick
12. At the W.A.L.
13. And the Racket They Made

Running time: 51 minutes
Released: 2007

Time for a true favourite now, one good enough to wash away the disappointment of an album cut entirely from my collection last time out. This album contains a couple of my most played songs, one that I can recognise from the first note alone and closes with a tune that would hint at the magic in the combination of King Creosote and Jon Hopkins, which would later earn them a Mercury nod for Diamond Mine.

From the opening bars of Leslie I am instantly back in a cocoon that only King Creosote can create. Long drawn out notes on his accordion accompanying his voice - ever a knife edge between brilliance and brokenness that I love. Gruffness, but also fragility, a combination that - along with a lot of his lyrics - speaks to me in a way no other musician does. There is a reason this guy is out on his own at the head of my most listened list, and it isn't just that he has been prolific over the years because I don't have all those CDR albums he self-produced for Fence.

I am going to leave this link to a Grauniad piece here: its the only time I've ever stumbled over something like a listen report, and it happens to be for one of my all time favourites. The writer is far more shrewd about interpreting songs and gives timestamps which clearly mean it wasn't done live (or presumably from a single play), but it was an interesting read, and another shining endorsement of this album. For the record, I don't think its as good as KC Rules OK.

I find it quite hard to write much about the individual tracks, they are so grooved into my consciousness over years of listening. Stylistically it moves about a bit. By You've No Clue Do You - a Cluedo-inspired number, who'd have thought? - it is in mainstream guitar pop mode but somehow it still appeals to me, feels a million miles away from that mainstream. I think its a combination of the odd subject matter and that voice again. It's far from the strongest number on the album as a result though... I am far more charmed by the like of Cowardly Custard - self-deprecating and heartfelt, it makes a break-up song catchy, easy to relate to and I have a great fondness for it as a result.

For all my familiarity with these songs, I have never really pegged some of the details. We ascribe our own interpretations on to things quite firmly, even as our appreciation of things changes over time. I never used to think much of Church as Witness - too slow and regretful - when I was younger but I find myself more drawn to it now. I don't have children, so I can barely imagine the level of self-loathing the described events conjured, but it is a powerful emotion that here is bravely put to song and shared. Powerful. That we then get a more upbeat number, is welcome. Of course, that upbeat tone is only skin deep; all the jaunty, easy tunes in the world wont disguise the bitterness of the lyrics, which basically boil down to "there's nothing good in this relationship," but it does take the edge off and make for a decent song. I notice on this listen that the lead out is a bit too long, though, so it's not perfect.

At least now we get a tune that is nice and whimsical, a positive take on the whole relationship thing rather than a bitter retrospective. There is something incredibly formulaic about Nooks, and yet... I don't know if its the fact that I can immediately relate to the situation described, the small touches, the fact that this sits within an album of favourite tunes or what, but I don't find the simple repetitive tune at all off-putting, nor the clichéd topic eye-rollingly dull. Funny how we can excuse the faults of the things we like eh? If this tune had been by anyone else it would probably be unlistenably bad. I do like the way the tone of these tunes wanders all over the place - mournful, regretful, forceful, jaunty, new-love happy, bitter... KC's voice and playing supports them all equally. It means you are always hearing something different, but no less good.

Ah, Admiral. I rarely listen to this track any more, but it is the song that sold me on King Creosote way back when I first heard it on Last FM. It really is spine-tinglingly good, goosebumps and shivers on the delivery of the chorus (I almost capitalized that out of habit; the things work does to us, eh?) is just... well, brilliant and broken. Here KC is singing near the top of his range and it introduces a strained sound to the vocal that sounds like a lump in the throat which is utterly perfect and appropriate for the subject matter. I think this song is a pretty good barometer of whether you will love (not like, I would point you more to Home in a Sentence or Cowardly Custard for that) King Creosote or not.

This listen is on a lazy Saturday morning, the week before Christmas. I need to toddle up the road to Majestic to pick up boozy presents a bit later, but hopefully after the deliveries I am waiting for arrive. I got home at 2.30 this morning after being in Bristol for a friend's birthday. Driving back late at night has become a thing; the lure of my own bed beating that of drinking and merriment. Huh. This listen is a good slow start to the day. The last quarter of the album is particularly strong for me. Spystick is a re-recording of a track from the CDR days, given a much lusher arrangement, a menacing drone and a relentless drive, the backing vocal adding a sense of paranoia entirely appropriate for the stalker-ish nature of the lyrics, then At the W.A.L. (Women Against Laughter - no, not very PC but rather knowing about it, I ascribe a self-awareness to it; I have to or feel dirty about the song) starts slow, but once the scene is established we get an injection of pace and purpose and a riff that supports the rest of the song comes in, the lyrics quickly devolve to plaintive cries of "Its gonna be alright" with the edginess and emotion of his voice carrying the day. Everything goes a bit mental musically in a long old lead out, but unlike There's None of That it doesn't overstay its welcome.

The real crown jewel here though is the closer. I think that And the Racket they made is an HMS Ginafore song (she provides the backing vocals here) covered by KC, not the other way around but I can't find anything to back this up. I have seen live clips and heard streams of a more guitar-ridden rendition and that spoils it some for me, but here on the album Jon Hopkins' sparse arrangement and KC's voice lift the poetic lyrics into an almost religious experience for me, just so perfectly matched and observed. It's very, very quiet, thoughtful and reflective. Powerful imagery and masterful execution - I could listen to it over and over; it is one of my all time favourite tunes - but only in this particular version.

Bodysong - Jonny Greenwood

Track list

1. Moon Thrills
2. Moon Mall
3. Trench
4. Iron Swallow
5. Clockwork Tin Soldiers
6. Convergence
7. Nudnik Headache
8. Peartree
9. Splitter
10. Bode Radio/Glass Light/Broken Hearts
11. 24 Hour Charleston
12. Milky Drops From Heaven
13. Tehellet

Running time: 44 minutes
Released: 2003

I doubt very much I will like this one much. Picked up, of course, because of the artist being better known as one of the members of Radiohead, Bodysong is not something I have ever sat down to listen to before, except perhaps once when I bought it. Since then I suspect I have skipped every time a track came up if I was conscious of it and not otherwise engaged. Still - actually paying attention to items like this is what this project is all about, so can't complain!

This is apparently a soundtrack, but not to any film I had heard of. I can't remember how I came across it - some years after it was produced, but felt compelled to shell out once I had. The first track is pleasant enough I guess, sparse piano chords and a sense of emptiness imparted by high register trills. It took me a while to see the "h" in the title when I checked. Those trills grow more wearing as the track progresses and by the end I do not like it.

I am sitting down to this listen in procrastination over Christmas shopping. No good ideas; nothing that matches the ideas that I have well enough. I don't want to buy sweets for other people's children (family I will not see in person), so what?  It has been that sort of weekend; unproductive and a struggle. I have upgraded to Windows 10, finally, however and now I get an annoying beep every time the track changes. Grr; sound alerts for sys-tray notifications. Something else to be disabled. A couple of clicks later and that is done, along with the second track - a short interlude which segues into Trench seamlessly (and with no beep!).

So far this album is exactly as unengaging as I was expecting it to be. Divorced of the context of the film to which it was created, these sounds are aimless and odd constructions, the sounds too individual to enjoy. Iron Swallow, for example, is shrill and yet sombre. A string lament coming on the back of space-scape type imagery created (at least in my mind) by the first three numbers, whilst Clockwork Tin Soldiers sounds like a conversation between The Clangers that was left on the cutting room floor over its first minute. The track then changes direction a fair bit, back to spacey, sci-fi sounds. I am sure the visuals gave good reason for these tonic shifts, but without them it just feels random. Convergence is all percussion - another different tone. I am seriously considering breaking form and just stopping the listen here, declaring the whole disc a casualty and moving on. As a listening experience this leaves a lot to be desired.

It really is unfair to pass comment on a soundtrack with no knowledge of what it was composed for like this. I can only assume that the vagaries of the film demanded such a definite lack of coherence and theme. It sounds like a sampler of samples for other musicians to pick up and do something with in places - some pattern or other that on its own is nothing like enough to carry a track, but which has a lot of potential if placed in the context of more composition. Alas here that never comes, so whilst Nudnik Headache has a really nice rhythm to start, that is all it has and, once you notice that, the charm of the rhythm starts to dissipate. I am sorry to say that judged on the soundtrack alone, Bodysong is a mess.

Just as I type that, Splitter starts. This has a really high tempo, drums, and brass. It is immediately a much more engaging track for the extra depth. The percussion is the structure here, the horns the interest - aside from when the former disappears and the trumpet solo we're presented with has all the appeal of a slap in the face. It is a brief moment in the middle of the track, which otherwise keeps the energy high, but it sums up the disc so far - an unannounced and unwelcome shift - and kills the track. I find myself wondering when it will end which, for a track under 4 minutes in length, is not a good sign. Considering I liked the first half of the number a lot, that is a real disappointment.

Hope for a track to stand out and demand to be kept is fading, but the opening to 24 Hour Charleston has a nice sense of threat to it, a dark demand. Unfortunately, and not for the first time, I find that the promise in the track is not backed up by and development so it runs the whole length on that initial form and allows you to see just how little is there. I suspect that this is one of those soundtracks that was very tightly wound to the film, simply because when you stand it alone it is so obviously... incomplete, lacking something. That invention or extra dimension that could turn what feels like a sonic mess into a carefully constructed counterpart. There are moments in some of these tunes which evoke really cool jazzy sounds but Greenwood is not a jazz man, and the tunes are not really jazz tunes, so strong foundations go undeveloped.

Would I reconsider cutting all of this if I saw and loved the film? Maybe; knowledge of how the soundtrack integrates, suits its subject, could fundamentally change my perception of it. However having looked it up briefly, I don't feel any need to go find something else to spend my time sat in front of enough to do so. I feel more than happy with the decision to simply cull this soundtrack from my library altogether. Some nice ideas, but not enough done with them; tonic shifts that were jarring, and poor man's jazz - I can't recommend it.