Stephen Malkmus – London – 9 December 2009
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.
Cut Copy – Zonoscope
Melbourne Modular boys gone global return for their third album with mixed results. Just what the hell is a Zonoscope anyway?
Fruit Bats – The Ruminant Band
Eric D. Johnson’s Fruit Bats sink their teeth in a third album of sweet pop with The Ruminant Band.
The Cult – Love (Omnibus Edition)
Get out your eyeliner and your crushed velvet blouse as The Cult's Love is dusted down and dressed up in this sublime 4CD boxset.
Yeasayer – Odd Blood
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.
Hatcham Social – You Dig The Tunnel, I’ll Hide The Soil
There's no hiding Hatcham Social. "You Dig The Tunnel" kicks the dirt long and high in a dazzling display of pop sensibility.
Peaches – I Feel Cream
The always fruity Peaches is back with fourth album I Feel Cream which finds her giving the past a slip and whipping it real good.
Tom McRae – The Alphabet of Hurricanes
If only England had their version of the Wild West, otherwise Tom McRae might've found himself in much stronger grounding.
Webcuts Top 11 Of 2011
It hasn’t been an amazing year for music, but surely an entertaining one. Lots of new acts jockeying for position amongst the wily veterans, and plenty of debate even as early as June over love ‘em-or hate ‘em titles such as King of Limbs and James Blake’s eponymous debut and where they belong in the year’s final canonization of greats. Honestly, I can’t remember a year in recent memory when I’ve found so many hyped records I’ve disliked or been entirely disinterested in. Cults? Pass. Tyler, The Creator? Garbage. The saviors from musical banality have consistently been experienced groups who know what they’re doing and get praised for their music and not being arrested in LA and starting riots.
1990s – Kicks
Get your Kicks on route 1990. Jackie McKeown and the boys return with their second album of more of the same pop-punk.
Adem – Takes
Domino, 2008 [8/10] Home recorded, folk-tinged, somewhat sullen but with equal parts warmth and optimism, South London's Adem Illhan lives a Nick Drake-ian life in a Brian Eno world. Having paid his dues with the
Darren Hayman and Jack Hayter – London – 13 June 2008
Darren Hayman and Jack Hayter Luminaire, London 13th June 2008 What do you call a Hefner revival without two of it's original members? Halfner. Hayman has recognised that it would be
Zola Jesus – Her Dark Materials (2011)
From her isolated upbringing in rural Wisconsin, combined with a passion for opera, philosophy and industrial music, Nika Rosa Danilova aka Zola Jesus has created a name for herself as being a successor to the
Who The Hell Are… Fennel Seeds?
Never in the history of doing these 'Who The Hell Are... ?' spotlights has a band come along and answered each question so thoroughly and excitedly that to praise them any further would make it seem like we're actually in this band or take bribes (we do. email for details). From the same stable of acts (and household one would presume) that brought you the percussive pop concussions of We//Are//Animal and the not-very-French-at-all Masters In France, come spicy indie rock quartet Fennel Seeds. Further proof that North Wales these days is a happening place or one that naught much else happens.
Blitzen Trapper – American Goldwing
Blitzen Trapper brings to mind somebody hunting down reindeer. This has nothing to do with the music.
The Organ – Thieves
Mint Records, 2008 [9/10] Vancouver's The Organ shared that same shadowy intellectual existence that made them sound like a darker version of The Smiths, without Johnny Marr's trademark flair and Morrissey's veiled humour. Helmed by