Album Review: Arctic Monkeys Humbug

That this album features lyrics as impenetrable as ‘I was biting the time zone and we embellished the banks of our bloodstreams' is testament to just how far this Sheffield four piece have come since 'Whatever People Say I Am'. The kitchen sink realism of said debut is understandably long gone and Turner seems to have decided it is time to paint on a far larger canvas with a palette of much darker oils.
No more slot machines, kids fighting with pool queues or even ageing women that used to get it in their fishnets then, but the bands attempts to simultaneously 'grow up' whilst preserving the unique wit that garnered such hype in the first seem largely to fall short- from the Carry-on style innuendo of ‘my Propeller won’t spin and I can’t get it started on my own’ to the Facebook-status friendly ’what came first the chicken or the dickhead?’-it just all feels a little forced.
Musically, there is no doubt they are trying something very, very different here- and there are moments where it really works- the brilliant breakdown on 'Potion Approaching' is reminiscent of the Doors, the refrain at the end of ‘The Jeweller’s Hands’ is excellent, the last shout of the chorus on slow-grower ‘Crying Lightning’ is suitably epic. But whilst Turner’s exploits with The Last Shadow Puppet’s revealed melodic 60’s-inspired tracks such as ‘Cornerstone’ come easily to the front man, it is still perhaps the only song on the album that indisputably works. Praise must be due for their re-invention, their inability to rest on their laurels, and the fact that they have now made 2 albums of vast progression. Whether or not they are moving in the right direction is another question. 6/10

EP Review: Jamie T Sticks 'N' Stones

Jamie Treays, better known as Jamie T- the snarling, swearing 'One man Arctic Monkey'- has been conspicious in his absence since the release of his debut album 'Panic Prevention'. Presumably he was busy working on new material such as this- a brilliant taster of what is to come in his follow up. The intoxicating title track 'Stick 'N' Stones' combines a Passion Pit sounding chorus with several lightning quick verses- where that distinctive Jamie T lexicon is fired from his snaggle toothed mouth and an almost M.C. like speed. Lyrically, their's little new- it's still all fights under street lights and Machiavellians in rebellion from the young troubadour- but the jauntily acoustic 'On The Green' contains the kind of content Johnny Cash might have sung-'Standing over her with a gun in my hand I made my baby bleed...it's not my fault she shot first me'. The riotous closer- 'The Dance Of The Young Proffessionals'- sounds part-Specials, part-Clash, part-Mike Skinner....but like so much of his stuff, is unmistakably Jamie T. And if the bard of Wimbledon can keep this standard of song writing up across the whole of his forthcoming album we are in for a very special release indeed. 8/10

Album Review: Bombay Bicycle Club I Had The Blues But I Shook Them Loose

If the April-released lead single 'Always Like This' saw Bombay Bicycle Club riding perilously close to that kind of summery uptempo indie too oftheard on Inbetweeners episodes, then 'I Had The Blues But I Shook Them Loose' is the sound of a band slamming on their breaks, holding tight to their handlebars, and then back pedalling away furiously.
An album of tremendous variation- from the Strokes-esque fuzzily vocaled 'Magnet' to the almost Kinksian 'Autumn', Jack Steadman's Frankensteinish part-Morrissey part-Julian Casablancas voicebox howls and growls in equal measure throughout. The songwriting is articulate and mature, though not to such an extent that it betrays the bands tender age-'What If' being the best example of the kind of angsty song only teenagers can get away with writing or singing so sincerely. The beautifully folky 'The Giantess' brings an excellent debut to a close- a debut showcasing a versalitle and immensely talented young band. 8/10

Album Review: Peter Doherty Grace/Wastelands

Pete Doherty is dead. Long live ‘Peter’ Doherty. For the riotous Pete has now, we are lead to believe, become the righteous Peter; and- armed with a début solo album- he is desperate for people to actually listen to his music rather than just read about his life. And so, ever the London urchin, he has begged, stolen and borrowed his way to 12 tracks best described as a hotchpotch of genres and cultural references. He picks Oscar Wilde‘s pocket here- ‘I never saw a man who looked with such a wistful eye...’ ('Broken Love Song'), and nicks a couplet from his old friend Mr. Barat there- ‘your boyfriend's name was Dave/But I was bold and brave’ ('A Little Death Around the Eyes'). Cobbled together musically by Graham Coxon, of Blur fame, and production wise by Stephen Street, it is an album that comes complete with all the distinctive images of Albion, Arcady and meeting in Chinatown for opium and tea that we have come to expect from the reckless Libertine, yet Street and Coxon ensure they are conveyed in a more comprehensible and listenable manner than they would have been otherwise. From the beautiful ‘What Katie Did’-esque ‘Sheepskin Tearaway’, to the sheer poetry of ‘1939 Returning’ there are some real highlights, and the album is an example of how Doherty can sound drug-free and well-produced. But as with his band Babyshambles’ last album ‘Shotter’s Nation’ there is very much a feeling that- for all the advantages of ‘Peter’s’ newly found abstemiousness and sobriety- the end of the raw, ramshackle, shambolic music of ‘Pete’ is something of a loss. 7/10

Live Review: White Lies, The Forum, Tunbridge Wells, 27th January 2009

Harry McVeigh and Charles Cave- lead singer and bassist of album chart toppers and perennial doom mongers ‘White Lies’ respectively-might just as well have introduced themselves as Flash Harry and Champagne Charlie, such is the success the band have already enjoyed. Playing intimate gigs such as this at Tunbridge’s ’The Forum’, one suspects, is something White Lies no longer want or need to do. Indeed, the size and nature of the venue was far more appropriate for their support act- the instrument switching ’Post War Years‘- who played their infectious Foals-esque bass-heavy pop to an impressed and swiftly swelling audience.
Then, after a short wait and with front man McVeigh clad in uncharacteristically bichromed attire, White Lies took to the stage. And apart from that choice to opt out of all black for the night in favour of a risqué Lyle & Scott cardigan and grey shirt, there were few surprises- their first live performance since ‘To Lose My Life…’ was predictably clinical, professional and well-rehearsed. They rifled through their album with aplomb, barely acknowledging their fellow band members and only pausing to thank their audience for applause-who, having had barely a week to acquaint themselves with the album- were not as familiar with the foreboding lyrics as they might have been. Yet the ‘…keep on running, there’s no place like home’ refrain on the anthemic ‘Fairwell To The Fairground’ was well-chanted, and gave a tantalising taste of what larger venues and audiences will bring.
Their stand-out track ‘Death’ was unsurprisingly saved until last, and capped a memorable night. It was clear to all in attendance, however, that White Lies have already outgrown venues of this size, and are destined for festival main stages and stadiums- where their dark, cinematic Joy-Division sound will be far better suited . 7/10

EP Review: Bon Iver, Blood Bank

During 'Skinny Love', Justin Vernon- the ethereal double-tracked voice behind Bon Iver- told us to be patient. Yet less than a year on from his debut offering, the first green shoots of new material have surfaced from the bleak Wisconin winter sound that was 'For Emma', Forever Ago' in the form of 'Blood Bank'-a bold four track EP that will very likely divide opinion.
Gone are the low-fi, percussion-less, cabin created recordings; replaced instead with a full band backing and genuine post production. Even Vernon's distinctive vocals appear to have changed- the title track reveals his fragile falsetto voice vanishing in the opening lines- 'Well I met you at the blood bank, we were looking at the bags/Wondering if any of the colours matched any of the names we knew on the tags'- in favour of a grittier, harder sound only previously heard in parts of 'For Emma'. The second track ‘Beach Baby', meanwhile, complete as it is with a slide guitar, was never going to be placed amongst the previous album’s wintery folk landscape. Even so, as with so much of Vernon’s work, it remains near perfect lyrically-‘don’t you lock when you’re fleeing/ I’d like not to hear keys.’ In 'Babys' you can almost hear that remote Wisconin cabin’s snow thawing, through screams of 'summer comes to multiply!' and the uplifting 'Hoppipolla'-like use of a piano.
But it is with ‘Woods' that Vernon experiments most, and proves that all important versatility that was not necessarily evident before. 'I’m up in the woods/ I'm down on my mind’ is a refrain that belongs on 'For Emma', yet the closing track implausibly features those Marmite vocoder vocals that Mr. West spread all over his last album '808's and Heartbreak'. But incredibly it works. And if Vernon continues to experiment as he has here, its hard not to believe in life after 'Skinny Love.' 8/10