Sleepyhead

by Passion Pit
(Song)



If you are down and in need of cheering yourself up, you could try putting The Avalanches' excellent debut album Since I Left You on the stereo in one room of your house, and the soundtrack to the film Lost in Translation on in another, and then rapidly bouncing back and forth between rooms on a space hopper while pouring Red Bull down your neck and emitting loud, shrill childlike noises. Or you could simply listen to this implausibly likeable song from american electro band Passion Pit's debut EP Chunk of Change and achieve largely the same effect, but with less potential for personal injury.

I cannot decide these things for you.

7/10

Ninjafied Rap

(New Musical Form)



NEILL says:

One of the advantages of being self-employed and working from home is that I am able to play lots of really loud hip-hop, and rap along at the top of my lungs in an excruciatingly awkward thirtysomething-white-man fashion. In a more conventional office workplace this would be somewhat embarrassing, if not entirely inappropriate, but in the comfort and privacy of my own studio I am free to really let rip. There is, however, one significant problem with the practise. As a guilt-ridden middle-class liberal of impeccable credentials, there is.... a particular word that I am literally unable to say. Even in the privacy of my own studio, where there is no-one around to hear or be offended. And, unfortunately, it is a word that is used a lot in a lot of rap songs. I mean, really a lot. You know the one, it begins with 'N'.

This has caused me minor consternation for years, as when happily rapping along to The Roots or Nas in my pleasantly ridiculous fashion, I am forced to either simply skip over the word, performing a self-imposed mental version of a radio DJ pressing their cough button, or substitute a random incoherent mumble for the offending N-word. Either of these take a certain amount of memory and concentration, which are not exactly my core competencies anyway, and generally end up messing up my otherwise formidable Flow. Even worse are the rare occasions when I fluff the procedure and the word slips out, causing me to spend the rest of the afternoon in the throes of a crippling liberal guilt attack and worrying that my subscription to the Guardian will be revoked.

As you can see, this is a major problem for me. I would go further, in fact, and describe it as a major social problem for our times. However, it is a problem which I am happy to say I have totally solved. And all it takes is the easy substitution of the word 'ninja' for, you know, the other word. This is perfect, as:

a) it sounds almost the same anyway so the lyrics still flow perfectly
b) it renders even the hardest-to-excuse examples of gangsta rap into songs about ninjas. And I don't know about you, but I find that pretty amusing.

fig. 1.1 - The Wu-Tang Clan, Shame on a [Ninja]

fig 1.2 - Geto Boys, Damn it feels Good to be a Gangsta (Ninja)


fig 1.3 - Gangstarr, The Militia (Ninjafied Version)


My only regret is that this is without question the single greatest idea I will ever have in my life, and yet it is one that will almost certainly never make me any money. But that's it, my gift to the world and to future generations. You can thank me later.

9/10

---

The Originals:

Gangstarr, The Milita. Greatest video of all time? Very possibly yes.



Geto Boys, Damn it Feels Good to be a Gangsta. Doesn't it, though?

808s and Heartbreak

by Kanye West
(Album)



NEILL says:

One of the greatest strengths of Kanye Wests' three previous studio albums as rapper and producer was their diversity. On 2004's debut The College Dropout in particular, he covered an enormous amount of stylistic distance, jumping from driving gospel-tinged military march (Jesus Walks) to demented string-heavy instructional tape parody (The New Workout Plan) in the space of a couple of songs, and taking in such far-ranging topics as race, education, politics, and of course the vital importance of Hitting That. He extended this pick-n'-mix approach to collaborators, gleefully bringing in a wide range of guest vocalists and casting them against type, getting well-respected if slightly obscure 'conscious' rappers like Talib Kweli and Common to loosen up and rap about about pulling chicks (Get Em High) while bringing out a slightly deeper side of mainstream artists like Jay-Z (Never Let Me Down).

Given that this energetic eclecticism was such a strength of his previous work, it is something of a surprise that his latest album, 808s and Heartbreak, is almost wholly composed of Kanye himself abandoning rap to sing whiny vocoder-heavy ditties about being dumped by his girlfriend, with beyond-parody titles like 'Heartless', Paranoid' and 'Welcome To Heartbreak'. Over and over again. For an entire album. What is even more of a surprise is that the end results are surprisingly bearable, and indeed in places are actually pretty fucking awesome.

Far better than it had any right to be on paper.

6/10

---

Buy 808's and Heartbreak on Amazon now!

---

Let's take it back to '04! OLD SCHOOL.

URT REVIEW OF THE YEAR 2004

Everyone else has one, why can't we? Merry Christmas everybody!

BEST ALBUM

NEILL says: White People - Handsome Boy Modelling School. Handsome music for handsome people! Everyone should buy this record, but unfortunately not everyone is good-looking enough. 8.7/10

Runners-up: The College Dropout - Kanye West (8.2/10), The Concretes - The Concretes (8/10)

BEST SINGLE

JAMES says: 'Take Me Out' by Franz Ferdinand. Although it has been out for about a year and I did start to get sick of it around August, when it first came out it was a stomping busting piece of nonsensical greatness. 8.6/10

BEST OTHERWISE GREAT HIP-HOP ALBUM RUINED BY AN ENTIRELY UNNECCESSARY FINAL TRACK WHERE THE RAPPER BANGS ON FOR TWENTY MINUTES ABOUT EVERY BLOODY THING THAT EVER HAPPENED IN THEIR CAREER IN A FRENZY OF GRATUIITOUS SELF-AGGRANDISEMENT

NEILL says: The College Dropout - Kanye West. 8.2/10

Runner-up: Speakerboxx - Outkast (6.6/10)


BEST GIG

NEILL says: An Evening with Jurassic 5, LIVE at the Kentish Town Forum (July)- I don't know when I have ever experienced a moment of such pure and complete happiness as when they launched into 'A Day at the Races'. 9/10

BEST CRISP

NEILL says: Walkers' Sensations Peking Spare Rib flavour. Innovatively, they actually taste like the thing it says on the packet. And that thing is Ribs! 7.2/10

JAMES says: 'Tesco Great British Roast Pork and Apple Sauce flavour crisps'. While all focus is on Walkers, the actual breakthroughs in crisp flavour technology is occurring at the smaller Tesco lab. These crisps are twice as good because they actually taste like two different things, distinctively. 7.7/10

WORST ADVERT

JAMES says: So many to choose from, but I'd have to go for William Shatner's Bran Flakes radio adverts. Partly because they're on at the moment, and annoyance diminishes with time, but mainly because of the way he pronounces 'yoghurty'. I implore all readers to join me in boycotting bran flakes while these adverts continue. 0.3/10

Runner-up: Those ones for Argos or whatever it is with that cunt Richard E Grant. 1/10

BEST YEAR

JAMES says: 2004 was clearly the year of the year. Everyone was talking about 2004 this year. 8.2/10

BEST SATIRE

JAMES says: My satire of end of year reviews, just then. 2.3/10


BEST RESTARAUNT (FISH)

NEILL says: The Seafood Cafe, St Ives. A fiercely contested category, to be sure, but I would have to say this edged out any other Restaraunts (Fish) I have been to this year. 8.6/10

www.seafoodcafe.co.uk


BEST RESTAURANT (MEAT, BIG JUIICY PILES OF MEAT)

JAMES says: Bodean's BBQ, Soho. As previously mentioned, Bodean's is still so the place to go for big juicy piles of meat. Wouldn't you agree, Neill? 8.8/10

NEILL says: Mmmmshrggrrrmmmpphhm.


WORST BEDINGFIELD

JAMES says: Daniel. Fighting off unusually stiff competition, Daniel maintained his worst Bedingfield crown for 2004. How's he gonna get thru this? 0.7/10

WORST HUMAN BEING

NEILL says: My ex-housemate Kate. Evil, psychotic, hateful and just generally not the sort of person one would want to go for pretzels with. Mentally and physically repulsive in equal terms, her stunted social skills and freakish appearance earned her many affectionate nicknames such as 'Grandma Death', 'Skeletor' and 'That Fucking Mental Bitch'. Still, at least she'll die alone and unhappy. Hurrah! 0.1/10

Runners-up: Dick Cheney, Daniel Bedingfield, me...

BEST THING

JAMES says: My iPod, not just this year but ever. By crikey but I love music piracy. In a detached, aesthetic way. 9.4/10

NEILL says: The Portfolio Review session at the London Comics Festival, October 2004. By crikey but I love having my ego massaged. 9.4/10

WORST THING

NEILL says: Same as it ever was: Having a Rubbish Job. 0.2/10


...did we miss anything?

The Tain

by The Horslips
(Album)





JAMES says:

Prog Folk Rock band produce concept album based on Irish legend about some people stealing cows from some other people. Oh, you know you want it! I bought this album (or had it bought for me, I can’t remember) as part of my short-lived Glastonbury-inspired Celtic Rock period. Which consisted of two albums. You really can picture them coming up with the idea (or concept) for this album. Head Horslip says to drummer ‘If only there was some way we could combine our twin loves of overblown po-faced rock music and old stories about people fighting.’ Drummer: ‘Maybe there is, pass the spliff’.

Anyway, the only way you can tell this is based on the Tain, apart from the title of the album, is in the helpful sleeve notes which retells the story interspersed with selected quotes from the songs to show you what they’re really talking about. To quote; ‘Maeve’s army moves South with the stolen bull. The Ulster men rally and with Cu Chulainn back in their ranks they give chase. “But before you hit off, let me say this time you bit off more than you can chew.”’
Anyway, this is quite a fun album in an ironic way, which might be the only way I can enjoy anything these days. There’s a great bit where they represent a fight between two champions by an extended fiddle/guitar with far too much reverb duelling banjos style section.

There are also some lyrics that are pompous enough to raise a chuckle, such as ‘Now we’ve got time to kill/kill the shadows on our skin/kill the fear that burns within/killing time my friend.’ And at least it isn’t all shouting about how good it is to kill policemen and disrespect ladies. Proper music.

4.3/10

Some Other Sucker's Parade

by Del Amitri



JAMES says:

Hopes were high for Del Amitri with ‘Some Other Sucker’s Parade. Their last album, ‘Twisted’, had been a critical success (well, I liked it), and they seemed about to make the big push into mediocre but well known MOR rock band. Like Crowded House, maybe. But not quite that big. Anyway, the point is, they didn’t, largely because of this album. ‘Some Other Sucker’s Parade’ isn’t bad, and I’m sure it has it’s fans, but it lacks the edge that made ‘Change Everything’ and ‘Waking Hours’ quite good, I suppose. It just seems to reek a bit too much of middle age desperation, not a good reek by anyone’s standards.

It starts off with ‘Not Where it’s At’, where singer Justin Currie wonders why the kids don’t dig him, and instead are off listening to shouty music. Well, not in so many words he doesn’t, but that’s the general vibe. After that there are about 13 songs which kind of blend into each other. ‘High Times’ has a nice high pitched singing bit, and ‘Medicine’ is memorable for having a line dropped from the single version after Princess Diana died (I could never work out which line could possibly cause any offence. Maybe it was ‘Stupid Junkie Whore/I’m glad you’re dead/Princess Diannnnnnnnna’), but apart from that you put on the album, then it finishes, and nothing really happens in between.

It’s a shame, really, because Del Amitri had the talent to produce something more than this. ‘Nothing Ever Happens’ and ‘Driving with the Brakes On’ are as fine heart-breaking songs as you’ll ever find, and their Scottish World Cup Song ‘Just don’t fuck up quite so badly this time, please, please, do it for wee Timmy’ was a refreshing change. They could write also brilliant lyrics like ‘I turned on a T.V. station and/Lip-read with the sound turned down/It was Pro-Celeb mouth-to-mouth resuscitation/With Esther Rantzen/Playing the one who's drowned’ from ‘You’re Gone’. And Justin Currie inspired me to grow my first pair of sideburns all those years ago. I still get the urge to hear their songs, and one of the first things I did when I got back from honeymoon was listen to a Del Amitri album. Not this one though.

This was basically the point when Del Amitri stopped being a band that you could just about like without embarrassment and instead became some weird wannabe country band with song titles like ‘One More Last Hurrah’ and ‘Last Cheap Shot at the Dream’. Now, the only other person I can find who likes Del Amitri is also a big Wet Wet Wet fan.

Sigh.

5.6/10

www.delamitri.com - Still Going!

Since We Last Spoke

By RJD2
(Album)



NEILL says:

Okay, so you've made a couple of records of near-perfect downtempo instrumental hip-hop, blending hard-edged breakbeats with melancholy, oddly beautiful soundscapes. But what do you do NEXT? It's a question that has, I am sure, troubled us all at some time or another. All of us, at least, who have produced a couple of records of near-perfect downtempo instrumental hip-hop, blending hard-edged breakbeats with melancholy, oddly beautiful soundscapes. (Myself, personally, I have not. But occasionally I like to pretend that I have in bars to impress girls, so I find it is best to have an answer prepared.) It is, however, an inordinately difficult question, whose answers are many and various, and always strangely unsatisfying. Some, like the UK's Rae & Christian or the Herbaliser, opt for slightly 'lite' attempts at making 'proper' soul / funk music. Other's, like Japan's DJ Krush, spiral off down an interesting if ultimately unfulfilling path of increasingly reductive sonic minimalism. And then there are those, like Luke Vibert / Wagon Christ, who just sort of.... carry on. To my mind only one guy has ever really got this right, the guy in question being 'Legendary San Franciscan Weirdo' DJ Shadow with his magnificent second album 'The Private Press'; a toweringly engaging record which balanced eclectic experimentalism with beat-heavy funk almost perfectly. But not perfectly; there were just enough massively bizarre and annoying failed tracks to make it interesting and, ultimately, loveable.

So, what then for Texas-born producer RJD2, whose previous recorded works to date (2003's excellent 'Deadringer' album and the frankly stunning collection of remixes and rare tracks, 'The Horror') have given him the not-unprofitable claim to fame of sounding more like DJ Shadow than DJ Shadow himself? To his credit, on this his second full-length solo LP, he offers a new and adventurous answer to the question: he goes FUCKING INSANE. Seriously. This is one of the most messed-up records I think I have ever heard. If you ever wondered what the sound of someone losing their very sanity was like, I urge you to buy this record and satisfy your morbid curiosity. It's certainly extremely hard to sum up in words. Bizarre. Uneven. Massively confusing. Surprisingly funky. In places the weird and seemingly arbitrary combination of disparate musical ingredients just fires perfectly, on tracks like the awesomely funky '1976' and the rollicking intercontinental mindfuck 'RingFinger'. But in places it just all gets a bit... unfocussed. And then... oh Jesus Christ, then there are the vocal tracks. It seems young RJ may have lost his heart to a young lady recently, because this record features several songs of love and loss, given voice by a singer of such jaw-dropping unskilled awkward badness that I can only presume it is in fact the writer/producer himself. (I would confirm this by perusing the liner notes, but unfortunately I don't have any. See, music piracy really IS wrong.) The freakish sad-sack wank-melody of 'Making Days Longer' is so embarrassing that at first it is almost impossible to actually listen to it. And then you come to 'Through the Walls', which finds Mr. D2 on a heroically thankless one-man mission to fuse cutting-edge dance music with terrible, terrible 80's pop-rock. Why? Fuck alone knows! And yet the more I listened to this record, and make no mistake, I could not fucking STOP listening to this record, the more these tasteless aural misbirths became my favourite thing on it.

As I think I may have mentioned, it's quite a strange record. But I think I am a little bit in love with it. What can I say, I like 'em mental.

7.4/10

http://definitivejux.net/ - Def Jux home page

Year 3000

by Busted
(Pop Tune)




JAMES says:

Busted

It’s very trendy these days to knock the logic of this song, pointing out that if the person’s great-great-great granddaughter was still alive and sexually attractive in the year 3000 his family must procreate on average every 200 years. However, what they’re forgetting is that if it’s possible for Busted to travel to the year 3000, by the great-great-great granddaughter’s time the time travel technology would if anything be more effective. Also, have these people never of cryogenics? Anyway, it’s a spunky power pop dystopian vision of a nightmare world that would have PG Wodehouse crying into his cornflakes if he were still alive to hear it.

6.1/10

Dog on Wheels

by Belle & Sebastian
(EP)



JAMES says:

I liked this EP so much, I bought it on CD even though I already had it on tape! It’s one of the few songs that I remember exactly where I was when I first heard it. Not that it’s very exciting, but I remember lying on the sofa thinking, ‘hmmm, that’s a nice tune.’ And thus began my love affair with Belle and Sebastian. Eventually I got a copy on a tape from my brother, complete with ‘Lazy Line Painter Jane’ and ‘If You’re Feeling Sinister’, though music piracy is wrong, and listened to it many times. Although I think B&S have released better songs since, back then my soul was not fully hardened, like a babies head, and those songs were able to worm their way in. When the Spanish style trumpets kick in I still get that warm joyous feeling.

And they had a work ethic too. Not for them an album track and two remixes, you get 4 all new songs on your EP (well, one was on their first album but noone had that so it didn’t really matter). And they’re all great. Not only is the title track probably my favourite B&S tune, but the second song, ‘String-Bean Jean’, is my second favourite. It also has the honour of being the only song I ever sampled in my 2 week Playstation based DJ career. Only it didn’t work very well. Great songs and a piece of my history. And I’m not a nancy boy.

9/10

NEILL says:

No, you are.

Still 9/10, though.

Combining music collections when you move in with someone

(Thing that happens when you move in with someone)



Keep reading for your chance to WIN STUFF!

JAMES says:

In theory this should be brilliant, as you automatically double the range and quantity of your available music listening to reserve. However, in my extensive research for this review which is not just entirely based on my own experience but stands as a universal truth for all cultures and societies, one side usually brings a lot less to the table. And, without meaning to be sexist, that side is usually the ladies (or the ‘bitch’ in single sex relationships). The man brings his boxes of eclectic but always interesting CDs, a whole wealth of joy and excitement which if the woman had any sense she would take a week off work and listen through in alphabetical order twice, and in return gets a couple of albums that the girl bought when she was 14 because she fancied the lead singer.

Then you come to the integration dilemma. It’s easy to just have your music separately, thus avoiding the nightmare scenario where someone is looking approvingly through your collection at a party only to come across ‘Abba Gold’ or somesuch. You tell them it’s your girlfriend’s, but you can see in their eyes a doubting glimmer. It also means that your partner can find her CDs when she wants them, which I suppose is a good thing. However, these are far outweighed by the negative, that the CD collection in your house will not be in order. Not alphabetically, not by genre, not even by colour, and I know I certainly couldn’t sleep if that state of affairs prevailed in my house. Anarchy.

There are benefits of course. When your little lady starts listening to your favourite bands of her own volition, it fills you with a pride almost as great as if you’d made it yourself. On the flip side, though, you might find yourself in the position of being in the mood to listen to a Divine Comedy CD, which can shake your self esteem to the core. You can also buy your loved one an album that you actually wanted yourself as a present, and then get unlimited access to it. Finally, you get duplicates of albums which you can give away in a competition to boost interest in your hilarious yet insightful website. Like I said, universal truths, no personal experience in here at all.

4.5/10

---

COMPETITION: Yes, dear readers, in the spirit of the above review we are giving one lucky reader the chance to win James' superfluous post-merging extra copy of the superb album '13' by Blur. To win this rare, exclusive and cutting-edge prize, and possibly a tube of Rolos thrown in too, simply tell us the WORST record you have ever found in the CD collection of a girlfriend / husband / PVC sex dwarf / whatever. Anyone and everyone is allowed to enter this fun contest, except for Neill; partly because it's his website, and partly because he once went out (briefly) with a girl whose entire music collection consisted of military band music and Telstar TV-advertised 'Best of Soft Metal' compilations, so he would win too easily.

Just e-mail your entry to competition@urtheory.co.uk - closing date… oh, not for ages.

Frank

By Amy Winehouse
(Album)



NEILL says:


I surprised myself the other day by buying a record based on the strength of absolutely nothing more than the fact that I quite fancied the singer. This is the sort of behaviour that would be risible in a thirteen-year-old boy, so in one of my own advanced years it is more than a little alarming. Especially given that I've spent the last five years or so mocking one Bobby Hazlehurst for once buying a 'Sleeper' CD for the precisely the same reasons. Still, though - Louise Wener? I mean, it's hardly the same thing.

Anyway, given the above, I was pleasantly surprised to discover that 'Frank' by Amy Winehouse was actually quite a good record. Because, let's face it, it could have sucked more dick than Michael Portillo in the back of a cab with the members of Busted, and I'd have had no-one to blame but myself. But no; Winehouse has an astonishing growling motherlover of a voice that would do credit to a 300-lb Detroit-born Soul Mama, let alone a damn cute 19-year old Jewish girl from North London. (Which is what she is, apparently). Possibly Winehouse's greatest strength, apart from the 'damn cute' thing and the ‘shit-hot singer’ thing, is her lyrical wit and intelligence. 'Fuck Me Pumps' is a hilarious ode to Saturday-night High-street scrubbers everywhere ("You can't sit down right / Cause your jeans are too tight / And you're lucky it's Ladies Night"), whilst 'I heard love is blind' contains the singularly poetic lines:

"I couldn't resist him, his eyes were like yours/
His hair was exactly your shade of brown/
He's just not as tall, but I couldn't tell/
It was dark and I was lying down"

In general, Winehouse combines cool maturity and brassy showstopping confidence with the faintest suggestion of vulnerability in a way that pretty much guarantees her a future as an icon to generations of as yet unborn gay men. There is, unfortunately, a weak point in all this fabulousness; and it is in the rather key area of the songs themselves. On the numbers where Winehouse has a tune to match her (such as the absolute belter 'In My Bed') it all goes off thrillingly, but too often her undoubtedly astonishing voice is left to carry a series of rather unremarkable and repetitive melodies.

Still, though. Like I say. DAMN cute.

6.3/10

Comparitive Review: AIM vs AIM

AIM
(Evil Organisation)



NEILL says:

AIM (Advanced Idea Mechanics) is a subversive scientific think-tank founded in secret during WWII by the demented Baron Wolfgang Von Strucker to develop cutting-edge technology and weaponry for his terrorist organisation HYDRA. In the years since its inception, A.I.M. has been at the forefront of scientific development, introducing the world to countless inventions that are now commonplace; inventions such as:

• the Super-Adaptoid, an android capable of duplicating the form and superhuman powers of another being,


• the Cosmic Cube, an unimaginably powerful object capable of restructuring reality,

...and of course, who could forget:

• MODOK (Mental Organism Designed Only for Killing), an artificially mutated human being with an enormous head and a stunted body who possesses superhuman intelligence and various psionic abilities.

Despite these impressive achievements, several questions hang over the organisational efficiency and long-term 'product roadmap' that governs A.I.M. For instance, many observers ask why, if these guys can invent laser beams and flying cars and MODOKs, why on Earth don't they patent some of this shit and make with the fat cash, instead of sitting around in their crappy secret lair underneath the Hudson River or wherever waiting until Nick Fury or Captain America turn up to kick their sorry asses. One also has to question the sanity of a Human Resources policy based on the principle of making their top scientific brains run around with guns like some kind of freaky yellow stormtroopers. Staff turnover is presumably pretty high due to the twin dangers of employees either being smashed by the Hulk or simply deciding they'd be better off relocating to a lower-risk, better-benefit-plan evil organisation. Like Microsoft! A Ha ha ha! No? Sigh...

In the final analysis, A.I.M. stand as a decidedly second-rate evil organisation; they lack the edgy glamour of a C.O.B.R.A or the sheer glorious acronymical excess of a S.P.E.C.T.R.E. Furthermore, their efforts in the field of downtempo instrumental Hip-hop are decidedly negligible.

4.3/10

AIM
(Recording Artist)



NEILL says:

AIM, known to his parents as Andy Turner (or 'Andy', we may suppose) has produced two classic studio albums to date; Cold Water Music and Hinterland, and is probably the single finest Hip-hop producer ever to come out of Barrow-in-Furness, Cumbria. His music is part of the great British tradition of downtempo instrumental Hip-hop, standing in a direct line with such artists as The Herbaliser and Rae & Christian, but his work shows a vision and a potential that could conceivably yet carry him far beyond such comparisons and into a whole other weight class. Whilst complex and utterly cool, many of his tunes carry an honest emotional charge rare in this kind of electronic music; from the joyful exuberance of the Souls of Mischief collaboration No Restriction to the sleepy melancholy optimism of A Twilight Zone. His collaborations with vocalist Kate Rogers are particularly effective; Sail (on Cold Water Music) being simply one of the more beautiful things you're likely to hear in a good year.

For all that, though, it must be said: he has never invented a Mental Organism Designed Only for Killing (or 'MODOK'), and indeed it seems unlikely that he ever will.

8.5/10

Phrenology

by The Roots
(Album)



NEILL says:

I tried writing a proper music journo-style introduction to The Roots for those unfamiliar with their ouevre, but I had to erase it as... well, frankly I was boring myself. Screw it! Phrenology is an incredible album; experimental, energetic, ambitious and quite un-fucking-conscionably cool. Everyone should own Phrenology. I mean, Jesus, the hidden tracks alone are better than the stuff most people put out as singles. It opens with the almost unlistenably harsh, abrasive and repetitive Rock You, and closes with a ten-minute long piece of abstract poetry from the point of a scary old tramp ranting about crack addiction and the Devil. (Uh, I think) Sandwiched between these are several examples of the very finest music you are ever going to hear. 'The Seed (2.0)' blends rap with rock, not in a Played Out Fred Durst Shiteating Embarrassment kind of way but in a manner that makes you want to run out into the street and hump the nearest police car out of sheer unbearable joie de vivre. And then there is the simply indescribable 'Thought@Work'. It opens with a break as old as hip-hop itself, and then... Christ, how to explain it? When I first heard this track, I remember thinking, as it opened: "...this better be going somewhere." And then, it did. And I remember thinking:

"..."

"...that is ILL."

I used the word 'ill'. Only in my own head, but nonetheless. I think that says it all.

9.1/10

The NME

(Music newspaper)



JAMES says:

The problem with being a zeitgeist surfing publication is that most of the time you just end up looking smug or past it. Such is the case with the NME. While periodically it is ‘where it’s at’, such as during the mid-1990’s and I’m sure other times that I’m too young to know, most of the time it isn’t. It’s at its most sad immediately after such a lime-light hogging experience, desperately trying to predict the next big thing. Especially when the next big thing does come along and it’s something the powers that be at the NME actively despise eg. no guitars involved. At the moment there’s a bit of a mini-revival going on, as a couple of bands that the NME ‘championed’ are actually played on Radio 1 (and in one very disturbing incident on Radio 4. John Humphreys having to talk about the new rock revival, very odd), but the way they go on you’d think the Strokes/White Stripes/Darkness etc. had been made kings of the world and all that is in it. They haven’t even got a #1 single between them furchrissakes.

There are 2 main problems with the NME. Firstly it’s written by music journalists. People with names like Johnny Cigarettes. People who can neither play music nor even write very well, yet still feel they can appoint themselves judge and arbiters of all culture. Unlike this website obviously. Ahem. But, anyway, these people are invariably assholes. Their need to feel special makes them believe that only they and a select few can see what music is good and everyone else is just plain wrong. Actually, I think I would’ve made a great music journalist.

Anyway, point 2 is that there just isn’t enough stuff to fill a weekly newspaper. Hence any minor news featuring certain bands gets splashed on the front page, eg. ‘Radiohead new haircut’ or ‘Coldplay slaughter Travis in bizarre ritual murder, full pictures inside.’ The rest of the rag is stuffed full of repetitive drivel about bands you’ve never heard of and will never hear of again. Plus you have the intrinsic difficulty of describing music by bands people haven’t heard, leading to a thousand variations of ‘Nick Drake meets the Monkees’ style cliché. And can it really be any other way? When it’s at its best music journalism can impart some of the feeling of excitement that listening to music can, but otherwise writing about music is like designing buildings about dance. Or something.

Only worth buying if it has a free CD.

2.4/10

Kid Koala

Live in Borders, Magdalen St, Nov 11th
(Like, happening, cat)



NEILL says:

Kid Koala is a phenomenally talented Canadian scratch DJ who, amongst many other notable achievements, has supplied a couple of the finest moments on one of the finest albums ever recorded (Nathaniel Merriweather Presents... Lovage: Music To Make Love To Your Old Lady By, in case you're interested), and has also written and illustrated a highly successful graphic novel (Nufonia Must Fall, in case you're interested). Clearly, this guy is just taking the piss. I am starting to suspect his very existence a complicated scheme to piss me off and make me jealous, engineered by my nefarious all-powerful nemesis (Dermot Hill, in case you're interested).

Anyway, the boy Koala done well at his very entertaining if regrettably brief in-store personal appearance come DJ set come slideshow come bingo game, in the coffee shop in Borders this Tuesday. He made us laugh, he dazzled us with a virtuoso scratch-heavy reworking of a Louis Armstrong instrumental, he made 'Moon River' sound like it's never sounded before, and he confused all hell out of the old ladies who were trying to have a quiet chat over a latte. Over far too soon, but still worth skiving night-school for.

7/10

Psyence Fiction

by UNKLE
(Album)



NEILL says:

'Psyence Fiction' by UNKLE recently claimed the singular honour of being the only record (to date) that I have bought on four - count 'em, four - separate occasions. The first time it needed replacing was entirely not my fault; I was the victim of a burglar of rare taste and distinction, with a particular fondness for hip-hop and its downbeat instrumental musical cousins, if the damage to my CD collection was anything to go by. Bastard. The insurance paid for a replacement UNKLE CD which, if memory serves, was itself in due course lost to girlfriend-break-up-related-issues. The third instance of the CD, fair enough, I just lost it. I'm like that. Fingers crossed the new version lasts the course a little better.

So is this the greatest album ever recorded, you may well ask, given that it has prompted a notorious cheapskate such as myself to part with hard-earned cash not once but a bordering-on-the-absurd four times? Not even! But it is pretty good. DJ Shadow's production ranges from haunting melancholy to ass-kicking exuberance, and the results of collaborations with artists ranging from Thom Yorke to Kool G Rap are never less than 'interesting'. At the time, it suffered from the massive overkill of hype and anticipation that preceded it, but taken in and of itself with the benefit of hindsight, it's just a pretty nifty album. It's not a masterpiece on a par with either of Shadow's solo albums, 'Endrotucing' or 'The Private Press', but, well, what is?

Worth buying, just maybe not four times.

8.5/10

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Buy on Amazon: Psyence Fiction

Sunshine Hit Me

by The Bees
(Album)



JAMES says:

This CD has a great cover, a badly drawn Mexican wrestler. But you can’t judge a CD by the image printed on the front, you simpleton. In this case, however, if you had, you would have done quite a good job. It’s a touchingly simple reinterpretation of Latino music, filtered through a few Isle of Wight layabouts, and it makes an endearing mix. Like Gomez, when confronted with the sheer weight of a type of ‘ethnic’ music, it’s a lot easier to just buy a CD by a bunch of studenty indie guitar boys. Maybe I won’t get as many brownie points from a bunch of politically correct bleeding heart liberals, but I guess I’m just a rebel at heart. I won’t conform. The Bees were up for the Mercury Music prize last year, and I got their album in a shop for £4 a couple of weeks ago. Such is the fickle nature of fame.

6.8/10

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Buy on Amazon: Sunshine Hit Me

De La Soul Live at the Kentish Town Forum, Sat 02 August 2003

(Gig)



NEILL says:

De La Soul were a major force in the development of intelligent, conscious hip-hop and have been going on strong in recent years with a string of albums that haven't exploded across the mainstream pop consciousness in the way of 'Me, Myself and I' or '3 is a Magic Number' but have been ceaselessly inventive and generally rather cool. The crowd at their London gig on Saturday was a relaxed and thoroughly positive mix of folks, ranging from hard-core hip-hop heads to 80's nostalgia-trippers, united by the common goal of... well, just having a good time. You know?

Things were warmed up nicely by first support act MC TY on the mic with DJ Billy Bizness of the Enforcers on the decks, a pair of local boys who got a very warm welcome from the crowd for their skills, their unquenchable enthusiasm, and not least their slow-mo moonwalking to the tune of 'Rainbow'. Things cooled off a bit with the next act, a couple of Canadian guys whose name frankly escapes me. They suffered in that whilst unquestionably technically deft, noone really knew who they were or seemed particularly to care. And frankly, no-one's going to come off well when trying to follow a couple of guys slow-mo moonwalking to the tune of 'Rainbow'. By this point the crowd were wanting to De La their Souls! DJ Shorty blitz held back the tides for another twenty minutes, dropping old-school classic after old-school classic and building the tension up to the point where the joint was ready to, quite literally, blow up. Word. And then the band came on.

It was just all rather fucking ace from then on. De La Soul have been rocking parties for years, and they are very, very good at what they do. I've seldom enjoyed a performance so much, and I've VERY seldom seen such a fantastic atmosphere, anywhere. Everyone was loving it, from stagefront to rafters, the whole house heaving in unison, waving hands and busting moves. No assholes starting fights, none of the casual violence that passes for enjoyment at a rock gig, just a whole lot of people having a hell of a good time. There were downsides to the evening involving navigating night-buses and people puking in bags of Kentucky Fried Chicken, but these were all in the realms of Personal Tragedy. The band's performance and the gig itself were pretty much damn near faultless.

8.6/10

The Ownerz

by Gangstarr
(Record)



NEILL says:

If you'll allow me a brief rant to start off: what the hell is it with records being too long these days? Have these people never heard of quality control? Hell, J5 even made a record called Quality Control, and even that was too damn long. What was wrong with the time-honoured tradition of saving the crap for b-sides, anyway? Always works for Radiohead.

Anyway. Gangstarr are a New York-based rap outfit comprising DJ Premier and rapper Guru. Coming out with a record called 'the Ownerz' could be seen as a touch complacent, but if anyone deserves to feel smug, its these guys. DJ Premier is one of the greatest hip-hop producers in the world, if not the greatest, and has been consistently so for well over a decade now. And Guru… well, he never was the most tonally dynamic or lyrically inventive rapper alive, and he's never going to be, but you just have to love the guy. This is the man who's "got more ho's on my dick than you could fit in a garden", for Gods sakes. Show some damn respect.

It seems redundant to slag off a Gangstarr record for being samey - back on 1998's seminal Moment of Truth, Guru pulled back the curtain and laid out their methods with admirable bluntness: "What we do is, we have certain formulas, but we update them. The style of beats is elevated, the style of rhymes is elevated, but it's still Guru and Premier". Well, yeah. In fact, The Ownerz follows the template of Moment of Truth so closely as to make one occasionally have to check it is in fact a different record; several tracks are direct 'sequels' including the inevitably-disappointing Capture (Militia Pt. 3). There's always been something cumulative about Gangstarr records, though; it's a trademark Premier trick to build tracks around samples of his earlier works, building one multi-layered self-referential meta-album. Yeah, that's right. A multi-layered self-referential meta-album. What?

Anyway, despite the excessive length and the excessive familiarity, it's still more than worth a listen for the couple of moments (on tracks such as PLAYTAWIN and Same Team, No Games) where it all clicks and you get that big shit-eating-grin, glad-to-be-here rush that ONLY comes from really great hip-hop.

6/10

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Buy on Amazon: The Ownerz

Quality

by Talib Kweli
(Album)



NEILL says:

It has come to my attention that some people are not aware of this, so I'll put it plainly: some hip-hop is really good. No, really. Whilst semi-literate and dull-witted 'playaz' and 'thugz' Jah Rule and 'Nelly' (for fucks sake) continue to dominate both the pop charts and mainstream cultural awareness of what hip-hop is all about, there are large numbers of genuinely creative, intelligent, articulate and politically aware artists out there. You just have to look a little harder.

One such artist is Talib Kweli - erstwhile one-half of 'Black Star' with Mos Def and one-half of 'Reflection Eternal' with DJ Hi-Tek, here cutting out on his own. Uh.. on his own apart from the albumful of collaborators, guest vocalists, producers and showbiz buddies, anyway.

Quality is, like so many albums in these troubled times, far too long, and could have stood some heavy editing. It opens with a devastating three-track salvo of sheer exhilarating brilliance: the bluntly confrontational Rush, the gospel-tinged Get By and the infectiously energetic Shock Body, but things fall off considerably after that with a selection of uneven and occasionally misjudged tunes. Particularly disappointing is Joy, wherein Kweli raps about the effect his children have had upon his life. All well and good, but it seems a little perverse to draft in possibly the most talented rapper in the world today, Mos Def, for guest vocals, only to have him do nothing but mumble 'Yeah, Kweli, I know how you feel' about twenty times. This is way up there on the scale of lame rip-off rap shittiness - he may as well have been waving an arm in the air and going 'two times'. I mean, for god's sake.

For all its faults though, this album does deserve credit for featuring the track The Proud, which features - no, seriously - sensitive, intelligent and reasoned commentary on US foreign and social policy in the light of September 11th, 2001. Including the following lines of genius:

"The president's a Bush and the vice-president's a Dick,
So a whole lot of fucking is what we're gonna git"

6.5/10