12/07/04-18/07/04
SINGLE OF THE WEEK!
Morrissey - '*First Of The Gang To Die*' (Attack)
One of the most frivolous, daft and outright romantic songs around at the moment, Morrissey finally releases ‘First Of The Gang To Die’ and a whole bunch of people rejoice. “You have never been in love,” croons Moz, “until you’ve seen the stars, reflect in the reservoirs”. That’s beautiful, don’t you think? He then goes on to regale us with tales of Hector, a deranged and handsome boy with a death wish and a slightly silly name, who is, as you may probably know by now, the first in the gang to die. So giggle while you jiggle, and wallow in the whimsy of it all, and while you enjoy it think about poor Brett Anderson who will probably be listening and wondering where it all went wrong. All together now, “He stole from the rich and the poor and the not very rich and the very poor, and he stole our hearts away…”
Walter Walter - '*Ask*' / Garrison - ‘*Panic*’ (Sorepoint)
Such was Morrissey’s influence that other bands you know very little about will cover their songs promoting you to utter the words “who’s doing this? It’s shit”. First up are Walter Walter, making a hash of ‘Ask’ which actually sounds like Ash at their most puny, before Tim started eating Yorkies and employing the services of the rather wonderful Charlotte Hatherley. The way he deploys the "spending warm summer days indoors…" line may make you wince like you’ve just taken a compass in the genitals. Garrison’s version of ‘Panic’ is comparatively better, in the same sort of way you might think the band Bush are better than George Bush. Why does nobody ever cover Marillion for feck’s sake?
Marillion - '*Don’t Hurt Yourself*' (Intact)
And how do Marillion keep doing it, eh? Keep putting out single after single and album after album? I’ll tell you how they do it, they get their fans to cough up the cash! The cheating, bleating, fat, drunk bastards. At least when Fish was in Marillion you could have a giggle about spiders wondering aimlessly, or the fact they put a song called ‘Warm Wet Circles’ about pissing yourself while off your knackers on brandy into the Top 20. Steve Hogarth whines on half heartedly sounding like Mike Scott trying to do two things at the same time. There’s one glaring conclusion we can draw from ‘Don’t Hurt Yourself’: superfans are cunts.
Nelly Furtado - '*Forca*' (Dreamworks)
“Here go Jossy's Giants / Football’s just a branch of science / Head the ball, now Jossy calls... / Tossy’s Nib flibs?!…”
That’s what football records are meant to sound like: short, punchy, ineradicably naff, and sung by a bunch of spotty herberts who’d rather kick a ball around with Jay Jay Okocha than bunk up with our Nelly. As opposed to this slick, anodyne, light samba-driven drivel garnished with banjos. I ask you, what is the point of this? And how much does Nelly really know or more importantly care about football? She’s, like, a bird. Sexism aside, ‘Forca’ is bearable if in your head you change the word Forca to ‘foreskin’. On a childish day.
Minus - '*The Long Face*' (Badtaste)
Minus are an enjoyable band, partly because they’re proficient, and partly because their lyrics are so unfathomably shit. “There are police sirens in my head, that sound like my baby’s crying,” Mr Minus tells us. Hahaha! What does that mean? And if your baby started going "neee-naaaa neeee-naaaa" you wouldn’t feel too much sympathy would you? This trots along in a slightly funky, jazz light way with a parping sax to keep it company, until the chorus comes in, which is something of a surprise frankly. It goes into a weird key, and the vocalist begins barking in a half rap that will leave the listener disorientated. Much better than Nelly Furtado.
Badly Drawn Boy - '*Year Of The Rat*' (XL)
Well, the first two bars of this are smashing. A gong sounds followed by mystical tinkering that creates exotic shapes, conjures up aromatic smells, and forces our senses into overdrive as we expect the unexpected. What could lie beyond such a magnificent commencement? Has Damon been metaphorically chiselling away at the holy stone? Will he deliver what he’s always threatened to deliver? Is this going to be a masterpiece? Disappointingly, the rest of ‘Year Of The Rat’ is insignificant and forgettable, and getting some children to sing along at the end isn’t going to make up for its shortcomings. Damon, perhaps you need a break man?
Jamelia - '*See It In A Boy’s Eyes*' (Parlophone)
Jamelia is one of those artists that nobody seems to dislike. She just has that thing, like… Bruce Forsyth. At a party recently a drunk singer from a well known punk band spent two hours repeatedly telling anyone who’d listen that he ‘really, really’ liked Jamelia and the rest of the party, made up of misfits, oddballs and sodballs, all concurred. It’s hard to say exactly why: her voice is rather nice but not incredible, she’s definitely easy on the eye but not out-of-the-stratosphere beautiful, she’s sexy, but not in a threatening way. And her songs, like this one, are fine, but they’re not exactly going to change the world are they? Ah yes, I forget. This is how people want their pop these days isn’t it…
Tiga - '*Pleasure From The Bass*' (Pias)
Listening to Tiga’s new single is rather like watching one of those “I Love…” nostalgia programmes where you sit and think to yourself “how come nobody ever asks me on one of those things? I spend half my life talking about the fucking 80s”. Well, that’s what I think to myself anyway. This track reminds us of the not-yet-made-but-inevitable “I Love 2001” when everyone decided they hated guitars for about half an hour and only danced to synthetic gay electro with a dollop of sauce and a knowing knod to the Thatcher years. Oh, and ‘Last Night’ by The Strokes. Tiga’s new offering is as pointless as anything that’s gone before it, but this time around it will receive less attention. Tiga dedicates this record to Axl Rose. The silly!
Shapeshifters - '*Lola's Theme*' (Positiva)
The name Shapeshifters presumably is meant to mean this band equate themselves with supernatural beasts who transmogrify into evil entities a la Buffy the Vampire slayer, rather than crash dieters with fluctuating fat and nasty bouts of Alopecia. ‘Lola’s Theme’ is a fairly up summer dance record that pushes all the right buttons. It’s not quite as good as ‘Groovejet’ but even the perpetually cantankerous should be able to get their pale flesh flobba-dobbaling to this one. Unexpectedly rather good actually.
Sigur Ros - '*Ba Ba Ti Ki Di Do*' (EMI)
Sigur Ros love to be difficult don’t they? ‘Ba Ba Ti Ki Di Do’ is meant to be reviewed as an album I’ve been informed, but it’s only one track over three tracks. That’s not a bloody album is it? If they can’t be bothered to separate the tracks up and come up with a few more names that’s their problem. Right - the first bit is all twinkly, shiny bits and bobs that sounds like an Ice Cream van playing Tubular Bells, with some baby noises thrown in for good measure. We’re in a bit of a hurry so you won’t mind us if we flick through to the middle now will you? Ah, right, more tinkling, more Mr Whippy, kind of driving down the road really slowly. Let’s whiz to the end shall we? And you’ve guessed it, more of the same, though, hang on, what’s this? Is there a storm erupting? Are they about to get all Godspeed on us? Is this lots of random backward voices mixed with the sound of bees humming? Do we care? Not much to be honest.
Radio 4 - '*Party Crashers*' (City Slang)
Radio 4 have returned and you have to give them credit for coming up with a record that sounds almost exactly like ‘Dance To The Underground’ though they lose marks for not making it anywhere as vital. The pace is the same and the vocals too are very similar. But hang about, nit pickers: they’ve changed the words! And if you listen very closely you’ll hear some strings that weren’t in the old one. But if you really think about it they’ve had a whole two years to come up with a new song. Which is shit, frankly. Did people not learn from Elastica’s mistakes?
The Futureheads - 'Decent Days And Nights' (679)
The Futureheads come on like a slightly confusing amalgamation of The Proclaimers and The Jam… who are still at school. We don’t think the Futureheads are still at school but they sound like they are. Is it just me? You imagine them sat at their desks plotting war on other children in a John Wyndham kind of way. As they hatch their plans (by singing in harmonies that nobody else can hear) they begin their assault by flicking rubbers across the class projected by rulers wedged into the crack of the desk. Then the bassist leaps up and garrottes one of the kids with his tie! Then the singer, dead Lord of the Flies like, leaps to his feet and pierces the boy through the neck with his sharpened HB pencil. Oh dear, we’re only 12 reviews in.
Bloc Party - '*Little Thoughts*' (Wichita)
Bloc Party have been jumping from label to label lately, and here they are, settling with those nice Wichita people, and they’re sounding pretty dandy too, with the help of up-and-coming production wizard Paul Epworth… Note Epworth is also responsible for the sound on the Futureheads. This is a more polished affair than the Futureheads, with the producer playing to the band’s strength, namely the fact they can really play a bit. ‘Little Thoughts’ is strangely reminiscent of ‘The Motive’ by Then Jerico, oddly enough. They may not thank me for saying such a thing, but this is their catchiest tune to date and should get them closer to where they’re heading. Can’t say fairer than that.
From fledgling producers to the biggest in the business, (I)NC have gone and landed the mighty Rick Rubin for their new single. Unfortunately not even Rick knows how to polish a turd. This is disappointing sub-Primal Scream doing sub-Stones. They’ve got the handclaps, they’ve got the ‘whoo-oo’s, they’ve even got the Hammond organ and the vaguely okay riff. They’ve forgotten to write a tune though, the twerps.
Death From Above - '*Blood On Our Hands* (679)
This is fun! Kids shouting in a really bratty way, while the drummer embraces the 16 beat, and the rest of the band try and keep up. And then it just gets better! Wow! Listen to that thudding bass, like drilling into the tyre on a monster truck, and really pissing off the driver. “Get off my tyre!” he shouts, but can he be heard above the din? No he can’t. Damn - this is so fine we’re going to play it again! DUMP-A-DUMP-A-DUMP-A-CHA-DOOF-CHA-DOOF! In fact, this is so perfect it stands as runner up single of the week. And to review any more singles would be utterly futile as they’re not going to be as good. I just know this to be true.
Jeremy "Such a silly boy" Allen
