Sometimes it’s nice to get the knives out on a song. It’s nice to give something a good slating, even when you know deep down, you couldn’t play “Twinkle Twinkle” on a bongo. Yet you sit here, slating those who try and fail. What a shallow, loathsome little twerp you’ve become. Luckily there was no need for any of this, this week. These singles are great (bar one)!
*Single Of The Week*
Clock Opera – Once And For All
This is chop-pop. Clock Opera’s solo member, Guy Connelly, possesses an uncanny ability to wield samples as if they were homemade instruments, splicing them into each track, creating glowing electronic soundscapes of melodic optimism. He’s a bit like the Heston Blumenthal of electronic pop. He’s throwing things where they shouldn’t, toasting things that should be boiled, whilst warming a castrated eagle in a bain-marie of melted chocolate, imported from Guinea, and the whole time you’re thinking “he’s so silly! That won’t work Heston… Heston!”, he doesn’t listen. Yet, slowly the veil begins to fall. Things that should repel are drawn together and you realise, yes, it does work. Oh, it’s wonderful! Apart from that poached salmon in liquorice gel he did. Oh, that was awful. Good news: Clock Opera are yet to show us their liquorice salmon (musical euphemism only!).
And the rest…
Two Door Cinema Club – I Can Talk
I’ve listened to this song loads, and I still don’t quite get what the lyrics are all about. I gave my imagination a little free reign, and decided to avoid the lazy cliched action I fall victim to, of assuming lyrics are either about love or emotion. This time I decided it was about taking a train hostage. It fits quite well. “Now I can talk, no-one gets off” screams the lead vocals, as he marches up and down the 14.15 Cross Country train to Bristol Temple Meads, eyeing his captives, “I know how you’d like to” he says. He knows they would. Who gets on a train with no intention of getting off? There’s businessmen on here! If only they’d gone on East Coast, don’t they know it has free wi-fi? To me, this mystery made the song hugely fascinating. It’s hustling, high speed indie math-pop with jaunty guitars, for god’s sake, it doesn’t need love and emotion. The guitars almost scream under the pressure of the tempo at points. It doesn’t suit love and emotion. It suits trains!
Paul Smith – Our Lady of Lourdes
Paul Smith is pretty darn poetic. He would probably rank imagery and allegory as his two favourite past times. I bet he refers to meal times as stanzas. I do believe I once saw him live, and he cried into a book of his own poetry. The list goes on, but who could blame him? He’s really good at it. Poetry that is, not crying. He was rubbish at crying, too much moisture, not enough moan. Anyway, he made Maximo Park both listenable, and educational, with all those long words. It was like GCSE bitesize for your ears. This song, ‘Our Lady Of Lourdes’, is a bit different. He’s getting heavy poetic now, religion and all. And as a Maximo Park fan, I sometimes feels myself yearning for the respite, that their addictive melodies and dancey middle eighths used to offer, from the lyrics. Then I get over myself, realise this is a solo career, approach it with blissful ignorance to who Smith was, and realise, actually, this is rather enduring and lovely.
!!! – Jamie, My Intentions Are Bass
This song is a touch brilliant, and had it not been for Clock Opera, it would’ve been my top single. It’s marvellous dance-punk, starting out like a grindy Beck number before the percussion drops, and you’re clicking your fingers/tapping your feet like Mustang Sally (she tapped, honest). At points, the sheer funk of this becomes hypnotising, and you forget the song is even on. Then you remember it is. It is still on! And you’re overcome with relief. Like searching for your glasses and finding them on your forehead.
P.S. Top video
Party Talk – Craft Spells
Marvellous, dreamy indie-pop from this LA duo, with soothing choral sighs and a rogue processed drum beat. Plus they’re new and trendy, so you can obsess over and indulge in this before everyone else, whilst they’re still listening to Glen Campbell. Oh, when will they catch up?
Zola Jesus – I Can’t Stand
This lady has many voices. She’s like a vocal chameleon. And a lot more complex than saying “now I’m happy” in a high voice, and “now I’m sad” in a deep voice. She instead bends her voice to guide the moods of the music around her, the thudding war drums and repetitive whirring guitars. May sound dreary, but it’s actually a wholly optimistic avant-industrial pop crasher about consolation. And we thought Esben & The Witch were going to be Florence & The Machine for those who prefer the dimness of the late afternoon. We were wrong. Or at least only partly right.
Johnny Flynn (feat. Laura Marling) – The Water
Pleasant, warming stuff from nu-folk’s poster boy. Flynn and Marling’s vocals flitter around each other like flirty butterflies, and although it’s barely a song to eat you inside out with joy, it’s still resolutely tickling. You wouldn’t switch this off.
Kid Rock – Born Free
Delusionally patriotic, nostalgic rock guff. U-S-A! U-S-A!
