Album review: Neil Young, ‘Dreamin Man Live 92′ (Reprise)

I hadn’t much listened to Neil Young until recently. For Christmas I bought my girlfriend a newly issued live Young recording, and soon realized exactly what I had been missing. When people had referred to Young – bands that I like, and friends that are fans – I had just nodded, and hadn’t bothered to correct this massive hole in my musical knowledge.

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Massive Attack enthral the Dome

Heligoland was launched after seven years in the making, and the following evening saw Massive Attack kick off their world tour in Brighton, playing to the most varied crowed I’ve had the privilege to jive with. From school kids and middle-aged rockers, to 30-somethings and the elderly, Massive Attack drew a crowd with a diversity almost comparable to the band’s own musical exploits.

Major hits – like Angel and Risingson – were dispersed in healthy doses throughout the set, ensuring that those who hadn’t had a chance to wrap their mitts around the latest release still had plenty to dance about. Massive Attack were up to their usual standard of wonderment, with their truly unique blend of original lighting techniques and unparalleled stage presence synthesizing to make one of the most visually arresting bands you’re likely to glimpse on any stage. The ten members switch on and off of stage regularly, with the various combinations of talents hinting at the song that will follow.

Sadly, the angelic Elbow frontman Guy Garvey, and Damon Albarn of Blur fame (who both feature prominently across on Heligoland) didn’t make the appearances that gigs earlier in the year had hinted towards. As a result, song choices from Heligoland were limited, and the truly sublime Saturday Comes Slow was a no show. That said, we still got fantastic gems like Paradise Circus and Splitting The Atom, which dropped and lifted the tone of the gig, crafting the night into a truly awesome experience.

A particularly haunting reinvention of arguably their most famous song, Teardrop, proved to be a bold move that may have disappointed just as many as it enthralled. But all was undoubtedly forgiven when Atlas Air, in all its live, dance-fuelled glory, burst into life. Immediately following was Unfinished Sympathy, creating possibly the most intense climax to any encore the Brighton Dome has ever seen.

I’ve heard many complain that Massive Attack has lost its touch, that five albums in 20 years is not enough to remain in public favour. I argue differently, and say that Heligoland is the culmination of all that the 2000’s have offered musically, and sets down a creative milestone for the new decade. Massive Attack has had my respect and admiration throughout much of my teens, and after the events of Tuesday, they have cemented my praise, and stolen my ears for the foreseeable future.

Album review: F*cked Up, ‘Couple Tracks’ (Matador)

Is it breaking the rules to include a retrospective of B-sides and rarities in our review of January’s best albums?  Maybe it is, but while Fucked Up’s Couple Tracks may lack the novelty of a new release, the vigour and urgency of this compilation make all the past month’s releases look wishy-washy by comparison – even a little bit pathetic.  If you already own the band’s award winning album The Chemistry of Common Life (which Drowned In Sound described as “the last decade’s foray into hardcore for the non-hardcore kid”), Couple Tracks provides the means to blast away those winter cobwebs regardless of the labels you might assign to yourself.

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Two divorced women and a drum machine: introducing Scotland’s latest export, Ex Wives

It would be all too easy to sit here, plagiarize/paraphrase for all it’s worth and reel of yet more spiel about this year’s must-hear acts (that is, according to about 99% of the music press).  After all, Ellie Goulding and The Drums are destined for big things, don’t you know?  But of course you did, because everyone has already told you so, and I’m pretty certain to read those predictions for the umpteenth time would just prove tedious.  At least, it would be as thrilling as it will eventually be when these acts hit the big time: their future, and indeed their success, has long been mapped out.  It’s written.  It will happen.  Party over.

So instead, the band I’d like to tip for bigger things in 2010 is Ex Wives.  I say bigger, because the possibility that you’ve heard them already is slim to none, and, let’s be honest: given their ethics and even the genre they slot into, it’s unlikely that the band –  who  are, in fact, are not divorced women at all –  are going to reach stadium-sized stature overnight (or ever, actually, but I’m not convinced they’d be too disheartened by that).  But they’ve been kicking about their native Glasgow for long enough, have just been interviewed by Artrocker magazine, and, with a European tour and album release in the pipeline, the first year of the new decade might just be a pivotal 12 months for the three-piece.

“We’re doing a [European] tour in March or April, so I can visit lots of countries and realise my stereotyping was entirely correct,” frontman Alastair told The Badger last week, and there you have first warning: to get along with Ex Wives, a thick skin and a resilient sense of humour is, well, a must.  (Your second warning?  A penchant for Steve Albini and/or Shellac might be an idea, too).

Disclaimers aside, however, here’s some of that background information and tidbit trivia entirely necessary in order to get to grips with the band.  Ex Wives are Alastair (guitar/vocals), Colin (bass) and Kris (drums), all of whom can apparently be found in “varying degrees of employment in Glasgow, Scotland”.  Created from the ashes of Glaswegian trio Stars Kill, Ex Wives came into play when, as Alastair himself describes, Star Kill’s bassist found herself pregnant and “we kicked her out”.  And, as controversial and repugnant as they may seem, they are actually very good.  So good, in fact, that Michael M of We Are the Physics cited the three-piece as one of this top ten acts last year.

It’s justifiable, too, because 2009 was a pretty good year for the band.  After spending much of 2008 holed up in a recording studio, the band’s EP, Fucking Dutch, was finally released in December, limited to only 300 copies.  Still, it was well received: reviews have been positive, and, as Alastair remembers, “Vic Galloway started to play our tracks on Radio 1 at one in the morning when no one was listening.”

But 2010 should be even better for the divorcees.  Not only is there that impending full-length release (potential titles for which are as close to the knuckle as ever) but the band want to try their hand at something quite different altogether.  “We want to write a Christmas song,” Alastair says, “but if it doesn’t topple the X-Factor we’ll be okay with it.”  So there you have it: it’s only January, but I’m already looking forward to December – because, coming from the frontman of a band who will think nothing of lending titles such as  Every Woman Loves A Fascist to his tracks, this should be one intriguing festive period.

Delphic: don’t believe the hype

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Album review: Lightspeed Champion, ‘Life Is Sweet! Nice To Meet You’ (Domino)

When Domino Records’ dance-punk trio Test Icicles split in 2006 with just one full-length release to their name, few could have predicted the impending success of band member Devonté Hynes.  Test Icicles were, after all, just teetering on the brink of big things, and fell impressively shy of the mid-noughties’ nu-rave hysteria which would have inevitably guaranteed the band not only widespread popularity, but also a spot on the Skins soundtrack. 

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Air – Love 2 (EMI)

Love 2, Air’s latest offering, arrives two years after the release of Pocket Symphony, and an entire electronic decade since their breakthrough album, Moon Safari: so what’s their latest like?
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Ones to watch: Twisted Wheel

There are many gems of wisdom our parents have taught us to heed long beyond childhood; we should all aspire to brush our teeth twice daily, change our bedsheets at least once per week, and of course, lest we forget never to judge a book by its cover.

My (humiliating) case in point: I once (drunkenly, may I add) proposed to Twisted Wheel’s frontman Jonny Brown that his Mancunian accent rendered him the perfect candidate for a part on Coronation Street.  His response?  “You sound like you should be on Eastenders.”  Well, I suppose I asked for it.
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The Twilight Sad: a look into the night ahead

It’s surprising: for a band whose roots are embedded in a region north of the border, The Twilight Sad sure do boast an impressive set of ties with Brighton.  Perched on the edge of The Freebutt’s stage just minutes before the venue opens its doors to the public, vocalist James Graham first breezes through some sort of confession about the alcohol-fuelled nights they’ve spent here (most of which, he assures me, have ended spectacularly on the beach).  Second, he insists Brighton is a city he, personally at least, favours over England’s capital.  But most significant, of course, is the small matter of Fat Cat Records; the label which, as Graham himself recalls, impressively snapped the four-piece up after flying into Glasgow to witness their fourth gig.

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Malcolm Middleton’s long, dark night

Malcolm Middleton @ The Hanbury Club, 25/11/2009

Strangely enough, the first article I ever wrote for the music pages of The Badger was a gushing appraisal of Malcolm Middleton’s fourth studio album, Sleight of Heart, so it makes sense that, two years on, I should finally be granted the opportunity to review his live showcase too.

It’s fitting, as well, given that Middleton himself has hinted that his latest effort – Waxing Gibbous – could in fact be his last as a solo artist.  “I’d like to do something different, whether it’s under a different name, or start a new band, or something,” he’s recently said of his career.  “I’m starting to feel like I’ve done as much as I can with this creative voice.”

Admittedly, I’d seen a former incarnation of Middleton several years ago – as one-half of the now defunct Arab Strap – in a dingier, emptier venue; and I walked away smitten.  It’s understandable, then, that as I took my place amongst the modest crowd at The Hanbury Club last Wednesday evening, I had high hopes and expectations.  It was worth the wait.

Still, it would be terribly easy to write the 35-year-old Scot off as being miserable for the sake of being miserable.  My case in point: the guy made a bid for the Christmas number one a couple of years ago with a track titled We’re All Going to Die, and his current tour has been dubbed ‘The Long, Dark Night’.  This is a man, after all, who will check that his audience are enjoying themselves, only to retort (completely deadpan, may I add), “then I’m not doing it right.”

But, the thing is, Malcolm Middleton is so much more than a moping miseryguts, and the tour seems to be anything but long and dark.  In fact, Middleton’s one-liners are refreshing, well-received, and break up his set nicely.  He even exchanges candid, relaxed banter with members of the audience.  But as he points out himself, he didn’t come to The Hanbury Club to talk, which is just as well: he seems at one on stage, and so he presses on with a set of his choice, before accepting requests from the crowd.  My personal highlights?  A Brighter Beat and Devastation.