“A collection of profound and epic album reviews and musical articles by former astronaut and brain surgeon, Alasdair Kennedy. Reaching levels of poetry that rival Keats and Blake, the following reviews affirm Alasdair to be a prodigy, a genius and a god whose opinion is always objectively right. He is also without a doubt the most modest man in the universe.” - Alasdair Kennedy
‘It gets better’ sings frontman Nathan Williams in a tone that is as
hopeful as it is doubtful. If all the tracks on this San Diego band’s new album
are of the same quality as this bouncy, breezy breakup anthem then pin me down
cos this record’s going to blow me away!
'Wake up! Go! Go! Forward!' - Pope Francis
The pope is releasing a rock album
later this year. The actual pope. I’m not kidding. It’s going to feature
excerpts from speeches he’s done over predominantly rock instrumentals. Here’s
the first taster, a proggy King-Crimson flavoured number, and it’s actually
surprisingly good. Horns up in appreciation (wait, is that blasphemous?). Listen to it here.
'The Lavishments of Light Looking' – WOKE (Flying Lotus, Shabazz Palaces
& Thundercat) ft. George Clinton
Avant-garde electronic producer
Flying Lotus, experimental hip hop duo Shabazz Palaces, slinky bassist/singer
Thundercat and funk pioneer George Clinton all team up for this warped jazz
trip. I’m still trying to dissect my way through the labyrinth of instrumental
layers. The fact that there is still a groove beneath it all is quite a
miracle. Who knows what this supergroup have planned next?
'BBQ Grill' - Jon Oh
I can barely make out what this
dude is spitting about? The monstrously bassy beat somewhat buries him but, oh
well, I do like a bit of monstrous bass. My neighbours hate it.
'Nelly' - Isaiah Rashad
This Tennessee rapper is the
master of smooth. His velvety sing-rapping in this song accompanied by the
smoky beat is enough to make me forget all my troubles. Not that I have any
troubles. I AM PERFECT
THE WORST:
'My House' - Flo Rida
The piano beat is straight out the
cookie-cutter, as is the materialistic drivel over the top. ‘Open up the champagne, pop/ It’s my house,
come on, turn it up!’ If you want to try and serenade me Flo Rida you’re
going to have to try harder than that.
I like music. Some of you who regularly read this blog may
have realised this. It's always nice to talk to people who share my passion for music. However, there are some fellow music fans who are not a joy to talk to. You've probably come across them before. Here is
a spotter’s guide:
THE CAVEMAN
The caveman gave up listening to new music in 1990 but still
believes themselves to be an authority on the current state of the music
industry. They take great pride in discussing the good ole’ days, back before
all that ‘rap crap’ and ‘thud thud club music’, back when musicians actually
played instruments and didn’t just fiddle around on a computer, back when you
could still smoke in pubs and smack children. Trying to convince them that
there’s still good music out there is futile. They don’t have time to Google
search ‘Royal Blood’. They don’t fully understand the internet and still type
with one index finger. Their favourite band is Queen.
Your dad is probably one of them.
Your dad
THE NEO-CAVEMAN
The neo-caveman similarly despises all modern music, despite
being born after 1990. They believe themselves to be the sole guardian of a
lost art, regarding the rest of their age group as ignorant One-Direction-loving
Eloi. ‘Have you heard of the Rolling
Stones?’ they ask. They expect you to have never heard of the Rolling
Stones. ‘I was born in the wrong
generation’ they lament. 'My generation sucks'. Rather be born in the sixties, eh? Throw away your
smartphone then. Throw away your laptop too, the laptop that you use to stream
all that sixties music you listen to.
THE HIPSTER
The hipster only listens to music you’ve never heard of.
They used to be a fan of The Atlanta Spoon Project, until you started listening
to them. Now they consider The Atlanta Spoon Project too popular, too mainstream.
‘They’ve sold out,’ they tell you,
sipping on a smoothie made from fruits you’ve never heard of, which they bought
from some vegan café you’ve never heard of. ‘I
liked them before they were famous, back when they only had 50 Youtube views. I
liked them before they were even musicians. In fact, I liked them before they
were even born’. Hipsters pride being individual over being themselves.
Fortunately, with ‘hipster’ becoming such a dirty word, this species of music
fan has become virtually extinct.
THE METAL ELITIST
Hipsters of the heavy metal universe, the metal elitist only
listens to metal bands you’ve never heard of. They live by a strict code, only listening to demo tapes from Scandinavian black metal groups
with unreadable band logos recorded in someone’s shed. Any band that doesn’t
fit this criteria – any band that has any kind of mild popularity – is deemed
‘poser metal’. This includes anything from Limp Bizkit to Slayer. None of this
is ‘true metal’. As for the whole Satanism shtick, the metal elitist naively
thinks it’s all serious.
Band logo must be unreadable
THE POSER
They’re wearing a Nirvana shirt
they bought in Primark, despite never having listened to Nirvana. ‘I saw them live in 2009,’ they tell you.
‘Kirk Coltrane is my idol.’ Their
efforts to impress you are adorably embarrassing. You wish they’d just admit
they don’t like Nirvana, that they prefer Calvin Harris. Give it a week and
they’ll be donning a Ramones tee, telling everyone how punk they are.
THE STAN
‘Isn’t the weather beautiful,’ they say whilst waiting in the line
at the Post Office. ‘that reminds me of
my favourite song, ‘You’re Beautiful’.
I do like James Blunt. I happen to have all his albums. CD, vinyl and cassette. Got
a lot of his merchandise too. I ordered a James Blunt Monopoly board today. Waiting for it now. I’ve even got a tattoo of his face on my butt. And a tattoo of his
butt on my face! I know everything about James Blunt. I know his favourite ice
cream flavour, the primary school he went to, his shoe size, his blood type –
you name it! I hope to meet him one day. Got an engagement speech planned and
everything. Can you guess what my pet dog’s name is?’. A combination of the
word ‘stalker’ and ‘fan’, the stan couldn’t be more polar opposite to the poser.
Their James Blunt tee is torn and faded. You will never be as big a fan as they
are. To them, you might as well be a poser.
How much longer must we wait?
These balls can’t get any bluer. It’s been almost ten years since veteran
rappers Ghostface Killah and MF Doom announced they’d be teaming up for an
album under the alias ‘Doomstarks’. Finally we have ‘Lively Hood’ – a
collaborative single with a badass orchestral beat that may possibly be a hint
that the new record is at last in the pipeline. I can just picture the deadly duo in
their volcano lair laughing sadistically at the steadily growing impatience of their fanbase.
'Polly’s Crystal' - Guerilla Toss
New York noise punk band Guerilla
Toss have a twisted sound that slowly sucks you in against your will like a
tornado. Bleepy synths and unsettlingly dissonant guitars ride a hypnotic
groove in this new seven-minute psychotic carousel ride, topped with some unhinged
female sing-shouting. Can you believe the frontwoman used to be in a gospel choir?
'Dream' - Long Beard
‘Dream’ certainly lives up to its
name. The New Brunswick band combine distant vocals and reverb-soaked guitars to create a lulling atmosphere that’s as warm as your childhood bed. You’ll want
to curl up and suck your thumb.
'The Nile' - Kisses
Here’s some indie disco for all
your indie disco needs. It builds up subtly from a galloping funky bassline, climaxing
with some pretty horns. Is ‘The Nile’ title a reference to Nile Rodgers?
'Oh Darling Don’t Meow' - Meow the Jewels
US rap duo, Run the Jewels, drop
another cat-noise remix. Yes, the beat is made entirely of meows and yes,
somehow it still bangs as much as the original.
THE WORST:
'Ride' - Lowell (feat. Icona Pop)
An overdistorted bassline and a
sweary chorus make this the perfect track for any teenage rebel looking for a
brattier version of Charli XCX.
‘Can’t Feel My Face’ is the kind of funky,
feelgood love song that momentarily restores your faith in the radio. Sadly
it’s also the only song of it’s kind on this album.
The rest see Canadian r&b singer Abel
Tesfaye (AKA The Weeknd) continuing his love for moody odes to self-indulgence,
only this time coated with a sterile pop sheen. The instrumentals do try to be diverse,
some borrowing from eighties synthpop such as ‘In The Night’, others from modern
trap such as ‘Often’. There’s even an acoustic duet with Ed Sheeran shoehorned
in the mix. However, this sonic smorgasbord is rendered flat and monotonous due to
the forgettable vocal melodies and moany lyrics layered over the top. These
tracks seem to have none of the catchiness or energy of ‘Can’t Feel My Face’, Abel
resorting to a soft whimper whilst whining about the amount of non-committal
sex he has. Indeed, clearly some listeners enjoy Abel’s confessions of a man-slut,
but I am neither seduced nor sympathetic. Instead I am just left bored, and sex
should never be boring.
Eloise isn’t a name I’ve come across before. I guess
nowadays you’ve got to get creative given almost every other female name has been
taken and used in a song. Anyhow, all that aside, this is a damn good indie rock track packing some
serious groove and an explosive chorus you’ll inadvertently find yourself
singing the next morning in the shower. This London band could be ones to watch.
‘I Bite Through It’ –
Oneohtrix Point Never
Never one for conventionality, US electronic producer
Oneohtrix Point Never delivers this digital glitchfest. It ski-ski-skips along
like a scratched record, whilst skilfully managing to be both melodic and
emotive. A full album, Garden of Delete,
is set to drop soon.
‘Myths’ – Frank
Gamble
These vocals sound bloody awesome. Is this even a dude
singing? I mean, I don’t know many chicks named Frank, but that range is
extraordinary. The glittery semi-trap instrumental is pretty awesome too.
‘Talk To Me’ - Nick
Brewer
I know the beat’s stolen from Crystal Waters’ ‘Gypsy Woman’
and I know T.I. already sampled it, but UK hip hop artist Nick Brewer’s smooth rapping
still manages to bring a new sense of life to it.
‘Ready Aim Fire’ –
Lexi Scherr
Don’t we have enough eighties nostalgia floating around right now? Probably, but this Chicago singer’s new upbeat single trumps most of them.
THE WORST:
Dooo it! – Miley
Cyrus
‘Why they put the dick
in the pussy?’ See my Miley Cyrus & Her Dead Petz review. Although you probably have ears so no doubt don’t
need me to justify what’s wrong with this song.
That's it. I’m throwing my
Hannah Montana DVD box sets in the skip. Who does this outrageous woman think she is, poisoning the minds of children? Does she not think of the children? WILL NO-ONE THINK OF THE CHILDREN!
If cutting her hair and twerking
wasn’t enough to rile her original fanbase, the Disney Channel sweetheart has now decided
to abandon pop music entirely, teaming up with experimental rockers The Flaming
Lips and hip hop producer Mike-Will-Made-it to create this left-field psychedelic
album lyrically centred around sex, her love of the herb and her dead pet
blowfish.
It’s taken me a while to get my
head around what the hell is going on here. I can only assume that this is
Miley’s way of telling the world she’s no longer a pawn to the pop industry,
that she can do whatever she likes.
The album opens with the line: ‘Yeah I smoke pot/ Yeah I love peace/ But I
don’t give a fuck/ I’m no hippy’. Here we learn everything - that Miley not only wants
to rebel against her status as a pop star, she wants to defy all labels
entirely: ‘I’m no hippy’.
You’ve got to give some credit to Miley for
breaking free from her pop shackles and creating an album that is entirely hers.
Even when told by peers that the album was too long, Miley responded by adding another track
to the ninety minute leviathan entitled ‘Miley
Tibetan Bowlzzz’.
That said, as much of a beautiful
expression of freedom this album is, by doing away with editors Miley has now revealed her total and utter lack of song-writing ability.
The tracks on Dead Petz fall mainly into two categories: unlistenably obnoxious
and unlistenably boring. The unlistenably obnoxious tracks are produced by
Mike-Will-Made-It and see Miley trying overly hard to shock her listeners. The
result is lots of gross sexual imagery that no-one wants to hear (‘you fingered my heart’) and lots of use
of the word ‘fuck’ because Miley thinks that’s so fucking edgy. In contrast,
the unlistenably boring tracks see Miley desperately pushing forward her stoner
side to the accompaniment of droning Flaming Lips instrumentals. The lyrics on
these tracks are largely spacey babble and are moaned out in a style similar to
Lana Del Ray in order to sound druggy or alternative or something like that (I
already hated Lana Del Ray. You can imagine how I feel about a cheap Lana Del
Ray imitation).
Clearly, Mike-Will-Made-It and The
Flaming Lips are also to blame here, as they fail to produce any kind of
exciting backdrop for Miley to lay her shoddy lack of poetry over. I guess you could make
an exception with ‘Slab of Butter (Scorpion)’, which does feature a pretty
groovy guitar interlude that gets the shoulders moving. I also love the trippy sample in ‘Milky Milk
Milk’ taken from The Flaming Lips' The Terror (although the lyrics over the top about licking milky nipples kind of ruins the mood).
Overall, there are probably only two
good songs on this album lyric-wise (two out of twenty-three - not bad). The first is ‘BB
Talk’ in which Miley genuinely comes across as sincere whist discussing
previous relationships. The second is ‘Pablow the Blowfish’ in which
Miley genuinely comes across as funny, mourning the passing of her dead
blowfish and hoping he’ll find love in the afterlife with a seahorse named Sadie (I
admit, it made me chuckle). Both are surprisingly emotional and show that Miley can be
endearing when she wants to be.
Sadly, these tracks can’t make up
for the rest of the album, which tries so offensively hard to offend that they might as
well be cherries placed decoratively on the top of a steaming turd. In fact, the album is so desperately offensive in every way possible, I fail to see any audience Miley had in mind other than herself. It’s lack of hooks and experimental
instrumentation deliberately alienates pop fans, but it’s dumbed-down lyrics are
just as much an insult to chin-stroking indie fans (e.g. 'Why they put the dick in the pussy?'). Maybe Miley simply gets a kick out of being the sole person who enjoys her music - in which case this is a vanity project and whilst we are left feeling empty, she is left feeling complete. Selfish bitch.
I’m glad Trails and Ways aren’t another depressing wannabe-Smiths
indie band. I’m also depressed that it’s taken me until September to give this
album a listen when it could have been fuelling my summer.
Pathology is music
for dancing on the beach to. Sewn into the band’s breezy rock sound are jaunty flecks
of funk and lilts of Latin that transport the listen to foreign white sands. Vocalists
Keith Brower Brown and Hannah Van Loon meanwhile provide a winning male/female
combo, singing breathily over the dainty instrumentation. Lyrics dabble in
Portuguese, which might sound pretentious but instead only adds to the exotic,
sunny feel of the album.
The tempo is pretty similar throughout which leads to a
certain degree of sameyness, but there’s enough dynamics in the texture of each
song to counteract this. Songs like ‘Mtn Tune’ are more flamenco-influenced,
whilst ‘Heavy Sleeper’ has more of a dreamy warped power-ballad feel.
Entirely bedroom-produced, Pathology manages to sound glossy and anything but amateurish. Let’s
hope these guys can become more than the local Cali band they are at the moment and attract the ears of listeners
worldwide as they justly deserve.
As usual, I single out my favourite and least favourite singles from the last seven days. This week Slayer sing about getting stoned and Macklemore muses about mopeds.
THE BEST:
'It Makes The Babies Want To Cry' - George Clanton
Is this vaporwave?
Chillwave? New wave? I don’t know the difference any more (I never knew). In any case, this new single from
Brooklyn artist George Clanton is a hellload of fun. Shimmering synth stabs and
distant vocals make for a sparkly eighties-inspired pop track complete with
worn, bleary-eyed production. Let it wash over you like a wave, whatever –wave that may be.
'Cast the
First Stone' - Slayer
Tuned down to drop-z, Slayer’s latest single is a ten-ton sludgy
monster of a track that will rumble around your bowels. I’ve kind of got used
to the metal veterans churning out identical breakneck thrashers year after
year, so it’s nice to see the band trying something a little different
(relatively speaking).
'Downtown' - Macklemore & Ryan Lewis ft. Eric Nelly
Lyrically it’s not as witty as ‘Thrift Shop’ – mopeds aren’t
as funny as hipsters. However, the funky bassline and groovy agogo bells more
than make up for this. Ryan Lewis has composed a killer beat here. I’m still
warming to the flamboyant chorus, sung by guest singer Eric Nelly – its all a bit
cheesy and theatrical. Still, US rapper Macklemore has definitely put together a fun pop
song here, the constantly shifting instrumental keeping the listener guessing
as to what will come next.
'Floored' - Priscilla Sharp
New York underground artist Priscilla Sharp provides breathy
vocals over a glitchy electronic instrumental. The moments of silence are
deafening and make for some serious suspense.
'FF Bada' - Battles
Also hailing from the Big Apple, experimental rock three-piece
Battles tease the build-up to their new album La Di Da Di with a new characteristically-intricate
instrumental, ‘FF Bada’, accompanied by some more foody artwork to drool over. Their
last single ‘The Yabba’ struck me as a bit too noodly, but this new track seems
to be just the right balance of complexity and cohesiveness.
THE WORST:
'Ain’t
Nobody (Loves Me Better)' - Felix Jaehn ft. Jasmine Thompson
The Chaka Khan original was feelgood. This cover is depressing
and Jasmine Thompson, whoever she is, sounds like she’s trying far too hard to
be an Ellie Goulding clone.