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2008-01-14
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THE LIONHEART BROTHERS
DIZZY KISS
PSYCHE ROCK
RACING JUNIOR
Not many people got into Serena Maneesh or 120 Days, maybe because they were just a little too freaked out to most people. It’s a shame as now we have The Lionheart Brothers who will roundly be ignored as their previous two bands, and justifiably this time. Taking a drone rock template cut out by Secret Machines, embellishing it with lofty piano and strings and making sure major chords are abundant, it sounds fun. However, it’s lightweight, flimsy and makes little to no impression. Psychadelic slide guitar on during ‘Burn Myself On You’ is reminiscent of Cream’s ‘Badge’, but that’s as interesting as it gets. Perhaps the most cringe-worthy effort here is Cane You See? which practically does a calypso all over classic rock in slippers. See if it was using spiked heels, we’d have something to cheer about. But it shuffles where it should pirouette and sighs where it should scream. Comparisons between this and Swedish oddballs Dungen wouldn’t go amiss, except Dungen fire on all cylinders, where these guys aren’t done tuning up yet.
It’s a little too drawn out and it’s 60s/70s tendencies too prominent. There are other ways of frying the brain in a surreal, noisy way – see Asobi Seksu, My Bloody Valentine, Spiritualized – and they all grip and soothe, where as this gripes and simpers. In other words, it’s more likely to irritate than frighten. |
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2008-01-14
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KAP BAMBINO
ZERO LIFE, NIGHT VISION
ELECTRO-OUNK
ALT-DELETE
Having sound-tracked the infancy of ‘new rave’ back in the dayglo summer of 2006, Alt<Delete now unleashes a salvo of electro-punk in the form of the debut long player from Bordeaux’s Kap Bambino. Talk about big things in small packages – this duo, comprising Orion Bouvier (bleeps, blips and noise) and Caroline Martial (wailing banshee), manage to make one hell of a racket. The two do their darnedest to replicate on record their apparently incendiary live performances and the result is both pulsating and aggressive. The ‘punk’ of their electro-punk comes not from guitars but from the same DIY ethos of early ‘new rave’ and from the short bursts of furious energy that make up this album. Like the soundtrack to a dystopian world, ‘Zero Life, Night Vision’ is more (or less, depending on which way you look at it) than a collection of ‘songs’, in fact resembling a continual aural assault made up of 12 intense blitzkrieg attacks. Titles like ‘Kaoskillers’ and ‘More Machine’ hint at the band’s future-shock sound, which has a blueprint loosely thus: Bouvier’s bleepy synth sounds over fuzzy noise, with vocodered shrieking vocals courtesy of Martial. With the origins of ‘new rave’ buried under Mercury Prizes and Topshop fashion, it is refreshing to hear a band actually indulging in proper ‘old rave’ sounds, and ‘Zero Life, Night Vision’ works from a formula that is instantly exciting and exhilarating due to its sheer aggression. It sounds great, but after repeated listens even this can seem just that: formulaic. |
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2008-01-10
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PORTICO QUARTET
KNEE DEEP IN THE NORTH SEA
THE VORTEX
JAZZ
When Dalston jazz venue the Vortex first opened up to the public, the four lads comprising Portico Quartet were barely potty-trained. But some 20 odd years later, the band are the first signing to the all-new Vortex label and have already been garnering something of a word-of-mouth buzz around the release of long player, ‘Knee Deep In The North Sea’. A few spins is enough to believe the hype. This is strange but beautiful stuff. The odd part comes in the shape of an unfamiliar instrument – the hang. This thing looks like a wok, but sounds like a dream and the band use it with staggering ease to produce an individual sound quite unlike any other. The closest comparison in terms of the overall style would probably be The Cinematic Orchestra, but there’s a slightly more worldly feel, as well as a much more classical emphasis. But though this wouldn’t transfer to a dancefloor setting, the upbeat jazzy style that pervades the whole album is one that might appeal to Gilles Peterson fans, if only as a soundtrack for Sunday afternoon lazing. No jazz act would be complete without some brassy melodies, and Portico don’t defy this tradition. In fact, it’s the saxophones that lift some of these tracks out of total obscurity and bring them back to an accessible level. In truth, this is one for jazz heads rather than the uninitiated. But it’s an album that revels in its jauntiness and, in doing so, achieves the enviable task of nudging at some musical boundaries. |
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2008-01-10
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BARZIN
BARZIN
MONOTREME RECORDS
FOLK
As if in competition with John Cage for the title of the slowest music ever composed, Barzin barely has the charm or grip to keep the listener from slipping drowsily towards unconsciousness. Every song consists of a gentle brushing of the drums, a singular strummed guitar, and the Toronto singer–songwriter’s whispered vocals. In some quarters, this might be described as exquisite, melancholy and minimalist. Round these parts, we call it the antithesis of life-affirming music. It’s dour, decidedly snail-paced and damningly tedious. Any melodic nuances are lost as syllables are stretched over huge bars of music. It’s frustrating listening, simply because you want something to happen. It’s like making eyes for seven hours and not even getting to talk. It’s like talking for a whole night and not even getting a goodnight kiss. There’s no pay-off. You expect after five minutes of beating round the bush that there’d be a final melodic rush which pushes your brain, your body and your soul into another dimension. The eerie noises in ‘Sleep’ are too little too late, as it’s the end of the record. Its comparisons to Sparklehorse are not too much of a stretch of the imagination, except Mark Linkous’ projects have a diversity that supersedes the drawn-out majesty of his work. This is less about artistry as it is about setting a mood. Unfortunately it’s a vibe that seems to be aimed at insomniacs rather than the Notion readership. |
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