An hour in the company of The Big Pink is a sensory distorting experiment, and one that also questions your sexuality. It’s not a glam/gay thing, but there is a certain amount of homoeroticism about The Big Pink. The obvious sexual nature of the band name notwithstanding, and their record sleeves are all chicks and tits, but I think that’s to throw off the thinly veiled man-love shared between guitarist/vocalist Robbie Furze and bassist Milo Cordell.
A thematic collection of stripped down tracks from Suzanne Vega's songbook, beginning with the love song.
An album that makes us love them more, but not enough to wear their t-shirts. The New Pornographers get it Together.
Ah, Barcelona, your beaches are beautiful, your women are smoking jewels (literally), and this festival by the beach (really an explosion of concrete by the seaside) is clearly the diamond in the rough for the travelling roadshow of bands that litter the skies with one thing in mind - a paid holiday. With a selection of acts that suited this weary hack like a good pair of tight jeans and a band tee, Primavera was a stage to stage delight. The current crop of new band like The Drums, Surfer Blood and Dum Dum Girls rose up to meet the challenge of the '90s alternative old guard of Pixies, Pavement and Superchunk.
Sounding more like a theme park ride than a band, Ariel Pink pulls off both with a little 70's funk and 80's new wave self-exploration.
20th Anniversary? Seriously? You're twisting my melon, man! Wait, wrong band...
Heaven is here, and if the album is half as great as this review, then The Hold Steady should be counting their lucky stars.
A band of such warmth and light, the only way you'd see a 'shadow' here is if you held this Teenage Fanclub CD up in front of you.
I’m a band purist at heart. You can cut off all your fingers, but you’ve still got a hand. If you cut off all your band members and keep cutting and cutting and cutting, you can't expect your audience to comply with your decision or to even recognise the music you make. What was it John Peel said about The Fall? "always different, always the same". Well, yes, but... no. Mark E. Smith is The Fall, but The Fall isn't just Mark E. Smith.
For a band who call their music "post-classic rock", Canada's Plants and Rags have at least one thing going for them.
Riding high on the charts, The National have found a resounding voice where "High Violet’s loneliest, weightiest moments feel like shared sorrow."
More depressing pop dressed up espionage style on the fifth album from this diminutive guitar goddess. "Junior", indeed.
Former Everything But The Girl frontwoman aptly wrestles with life after 40. "...not all fun and games, but a pleasure regardless".
What a wonderful world we live in where The Primitives are able to tread the boards once more. A delightful, decorous blend of '60s op-shop pop fronted by the delectable Tracy Tracy. One certified chart smash with “Crash” and some near misses along the way, The Primitives were one of those bands that were championed and loved (the old chestnut about Morrissey being a big fan is worth repeating) but never fully met with pop's good graces.
Ragged fist-pumping fury from outta New Jersey. Named after one of Shakespeare's earliest tragedies. Fact.
Of Harlem, this brief explanation should suffice -- "those who don’t sicken quickly of energetic, repetitive three-chord rock will have a lot to love".
Visual document of The White Stripes Canadian invasion of 2007. No Seven Nation Army required.
"You must be the most attentive audience, ever" joked Chris Thile, during his performance at LA's gem Largo at the Coronet, "It's not often that you can hear the performer's water bottle snap back into place." And it was true -- in this intimate setting of about 75 people (including fan Minnie Driver), Mr. Thile was the center of everyone's attention. There was no heckling or chatter between songs, just enthusiastic, almost rapturous applause for this mandolin virtuoso.
If only England had their version of the Wild West, otherwise Tom McRae might've found himself in much stronger grounding.
The Northern white crap that talks back are... back. Smith and Co. hit the 21st Century in style with album number 277 or thereabouts.
No hard hits from San Diego's The Soft Pack, just bland indie rock with some scant memorable moments.
Zooey Deschanel and M. Ward, a perfect pop couple if there ever were one, are back for a second helping of doo-wop and pop.
More of a mixtape than a record? Gorillaz latest adds Lou Reed and Mark E. Smith to their line-up for a day down the (plastic) beach.
Makers of mood music for moderns, Baltimore's daydream duo return with their sweet and sombre third album, Teen Dream.
Melbourne four piece Otouto prove that art pop is not a dirty word on their impressive debut album Pip.
A great band once sang “I’m beginning to like country music. They say that’s the first sign of age” and during the last few years I have seen more and more friends go over to the side of banjos, boots and beards. Maybe age is catching up with us but it could also be that country has sneaked its way into the indie scene more and more, being mixed with folk, rock and pop.
The anticipated follow-up to the fan and critic fave Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga, fails to meet expectation, begging the question, 'Where were Spoon transferring to?'.
In Sloan's case, it was definitely the A Sides that won, but there's some forgotten treats amongst this rarities collection.
One of the hotly anticipated releases for 2010, MGMT shake things up with their follow-up to Oracular Spectacular but the title is anything but ironic.
With a new sound and approach on display, Yeasayer have in their hands a contender for album of the year with Odd Blood. Yes, we know it's only March.
As a teenage music fan, one of my prized possessions was a bootleg LP of Joy Division recorded on the same stage Bad Lieutenant are playing tonight, 30 years later. You think Bernard Sumner, guitarist in both bands, would mention the significance, or perhaps the memory has left him, like his own introduction to an Electronic song later in the set "This is called "Tighten Up", I've no fucking clue what it's about".
The smell of reunion is in the air as Pavement's back catalogue is harvested for the new-comers in this career-spanning collection.
In an era dominated by unexpected musical collaborations, Broken Bells (James Mercer of The Shins and Brian Burton aka Danger Mouse) triumphs.
From Final Fantasy to something more pallettable Canada's Owen Pallett continues to enthrall with his third album which gets to right to the heart.
Shearwater seem to have run aground on The Golden Archipelago. Not quite paradise, nor a place you'll likely return to soon.
Stephen Malkmus has been ‘jicking’ for as long now as he was leading the charge in Pavement, releasing as many albums, yet never reaching the same heights. His solo career seemed to be in constant war of expectation over delivery. It's not Pavement. It's not a bunch of twenty-year-olds fighting their generation. But the louche stage prescence, that hazy cynical drawl, the greying hair framing the eyes in a semi-slacker curl, little has changed over the years.
One of the top records of the year that you never want to hear again? Merrill Garbus is Tune-yards and experimental lo-fi folk is the order of the day.
Dev Hynes brings us more songs of bittersweet romance on his sophomore release as Lightspeed Champion.
One of Webcuts favourite albums of last year, Hatcham Social hit the new year with this 6 track EP of new and familiar.
Musicians die. Sometimes quite unexpectedly, most before their time, but not often enough for your brain to idle between song, between string changes or tunings to wonder “will this be the last time?”. You don’t, because you’re too busy enjoying the moment. Having witnessed Jay Reatard play what would be his last ever show in London, he was anything but the vision of a man kicking out the last of his jams.
The unlikely paring of hip-hop and indie rock actual make for compatible bedfellows with Californian band Why?'s fourth full length album.
A look into Continuum's must-read 33 1/3 series of books that investigate the history and stories behind some of the greatest albums ever made, including reviews of the most recent releases in the series -- Big Star's Radio City and Elliott Smith's XO.
Bon meets the Bees in this post rock collaboration for Justin Vernon and Collections of Colonies of Bees which results in only a slight buzz.
Luke Haines looks back at the 20th Century, and takes pop shots at the maligned and those who got left behind in typical Haines fashion.
Bradford Cox of Deerhunter makes us seem like we're slavishly supportive of everything his hand touches, but we mean every word. Honest.
Standing tall in the face of tragedy, Magic Dirt compile a lucky dip of new, rare and unreleased tracks to coincide with their recent tour.
A fusion of dub reggae, ska and soul, the brilliance of Pama International comes to the fore with their seventh album Pama Outernational.
If New Order and Doves made a record, how would it sound? Something like this, we think...
Load the chamber and light a candle for Jeffrey Lee Pierce, it's rockabilly blues-a-go-go with The Gun Club.
Having given us one of the most lurid and arresting albums all year in Two Dancers, the Leeds-based Wild Beasts are let loose on London and give us such a performance that we (as they say) still got the taste dancin' on our tongues.
