Home Blog Page 624

Kevin Shields: ‘I’m working on new My Bloody Valentine material’

0
My Bloody Valentine are currently working on a brand new album, according to the band's vocalist and guitarist, Kevin Shields. The band haven't released any new material since 1991's Loveless, which followed their 1988 debut, Isn't Anything. Shields revealed the news in an interview with Pitchfork ...

My Bloody Valentine are currently working on a brand new album, according to the band’s vocalist and guitarist, Kevin Shields.

The band haven’t released any new material since 1991’s Loveless, which followed their 1988 debut, Isn’t Anything. Shields revealed the news in an interview with Pitchfork but admitted he couldn’t say much about the new release apart from that “I need to finish it!”

He added that the new album was based on a record that he started making in the 1990s. He said: “I’m just finishing a record that I had started in the 90s. It was going to be, like, the next record.”

He continued: “I’ve always said that we were always going to make a record again. You never know, we might finish it really quickly, and it might be up in a few months! I tend to work really quickly, suddenly, and I might be willing to do that right now. We’ll see!”

Last autumn Kevin Shields launched a new record label, but denied he would be using it to release new material by the band. The reclusive musician set up the new imprint, Pickpocket, with his friend Charlotte Marionneau, initially to put out an EP by her band Le Volume Courbe. Speaking to NME at the time, Shields said: “I was like ‘I’ll just get rid of a few pedals that I’ve had lying around for ten years and we’ll start a label’.”

My Bloody Valentine will put out a trio of re-issues on May 7. Remastered versions of Isn’t Anything and Loveless will go on sale, as well as EP’s 1988-1991, a new compilation made up of the band’s four EP releases, ‘Feed Me With Your Kiss’, ‘You Made Me Realise’, ‘Glider’ and ‘Tremolo’ and seven other rare tracks.

The Gaslight Anthem: Baby He Was Born To Run

As this month’s new Uncut (May 2012, Take 180) features Brian Fallon talking about The Gaslight Anthem’s upcoming new album, Handwritten, we thought it would be fitting to dig out this Uncut feature from January 2010 – in which Fallon tells Jaan Uhelszki how he became a rumbustious, show-stealing international phenomenon, beloved even by The Boss himself. Not bad for a tattooed punk kid whose “mother fed me Born To Run with my Cheerios”… ____________________ Three songs into The Gaslight Anthem’s set at this year’s Glastonbury festival, frontman Brian Fallon called for hush from the crowd. “I’m hearing the waves of my hometown,” he explained in a stage whisper. “Somebody back there? Who’s coming out?” Seconds later, a lithe, tanned Bruce Springsteen sauntered onstage carrying Fallon’s new Les Paul guitar. First throwing an arm round the neck of the singer, then ceremoniously and quaintly bowing to him, Springsteen plunged into The Gaslight Anthem’s “The ’59 Sound” as if he’d been playing it for years. In fact, it was decided only 10 minutes before the set that Springsteen would perform with the band. Nearly four months later, Fallon still savours the moment. “I wanted to tap him on the shoulder and say, ‘Dude, did someone forget to tell you that you were Bruce Springsteen this morning?’” he says with a quick shake of his head. Some people might want to ask the heavily tattooed Fallon the same question. But the comparisons are perhaps inevitable. Not only do The Gaslight Anthem hail from the same part of the world as Springsteen – New Jersey – they also specialise in similar, rambling narratives whose protagonists, identified only by their Christian names, bump up against their own mortality while living on the margins of poverty along the Jersey Shore. Their vision of life is witnessed from the back of a Chevy Nova speeding out of town – away from this place of low horizons and Soprano mob swagger – bidding goodbye to a romanticised teenage street life for some imagined rosier future. The fact that Springsteen is a fan isn’t a stretch, it’s more or less a foregone conclusion. “You know Springsteen is a hero to a lot of people in New Jersey,” says Fallon. “He’s a role model, because he’s a local guy who got out.” For the last nine months The Gaslight Anthem have ranked among Springsteen’s Top Friends on MySpace, ever since his eldest son Evan attended one of their shows and raved about it to his father. They finally met in December 2008 at a benefit in New Jersey, after Springsteen asked a friend, singer-songwriter Nicole Atkins, to introduce them. “Although I met him in December, it wasn’t until Glastonbury that we were anointed,” Fallon says with a short laugh that’s caught somewhere between self-awareness and irony. But he’s right. Within days of the Glastonbury show – and a support slot for Springsteen in Hyde Park the next day, where Bruce once again joined them for “The ’59 Sound” – sales of The Gaslight Anthem’s second album, The ’59 Sound, rose 200 per cent. Within a month, they were selling out shows in both the UK and America, with Fallon identified as the “next Springsteen” – in much the same way Springsteen used to get called the “next Dylan”. Not that the comparisons seem to bother the 29-year-old – or so he says. “I grew up in the next town over from Asbury Park, and five streets from E Street,” Fallon explains, when we meet in Chicago for the last dates of their current tour. “My mother fed me Born To Run with my Cheerios.” Fallon grew up just outside Spring Lake, a New Jersey borough known for its golf courses, country clubs and as the birthplace of Jack Nicholson. A mile away, you’ll find the less salubrious Spring Lake Heights. Named the 28th most desirable place to live in New Jersey, it boasts only 5,227 residents – many of them factory workers from nearby Freehold. “It was like the septic tank of what was left over from Spring Lake. It’s like, let the poor people have this block, you know? The things I’ve seen are the same things he [Springsteen] had seen, only 30 years later.” Songs like “Great Expectations”, “I Coulda Been A Contender” and “Wooderson”, underscore the claustrophobia that Fallon felt growing up in Spring Lake Heights. In “Wooderson”, for instance, a line like “They got one pill to make you smaller, they have one pill to make you scream,” should give you sense of what it was like to be imprisoned in this small blue-collar town. His songs crackle with the same kind of dramatic authority and fatalism that Springsteen brought to Born To Run. While more than three decades separate them, both men were determined not to be smothered by their geographic destiny. As Fallon sings in “High Lonesome” – “The taste of defeat was never too far from your mind”. But instead of paralysing Fallon, such limitations have galvanised him. “Everybody told us we would never make it,” he explains. “Even friends would say to me, ‘Okay this band thing is cool, but seriously, what are you really going to do?’ I can’t think of anyone who believed in us, and that was fuel for the fire, because the more anybody said I wouldn’t do it, the more I was like, ‘No, I’m going to do it.’ The only one who believed in me was my mother. She would always say to me that I was the one in a million who was going to do it.” After a failed entrance interview for the Pratt Institute, one of the pre-eminent art schools in America, Fallon abandoned his dreams of being a graphic artist and clothing designer to become a musician. But not entirely: many of his songs include references to ensembles, pearls and, most of all, shoes. “Shoes are everything,” he offers. “You can tell more about a man from his shoes than his handshake, because they tell where you’re going. It’s almost as if who you wish you were is on your shoes.” So what about you? “I wear shoes without laces that slip on because I wish I could just be a casual guy.” But you’re not? “No, not at all.” You’re a serious guy? “Very serious. I always think of those old pictures of Tom Waits wearing those pointy shoes with the buckles – the Stacey shoes. He always wished he could be a Casanova and instead he was a genius.” As for his mother, she wasn’t as daunted as he’d anticipated by his career change. Now a heath authority worker, she’d once been a member of Jersey band, The Group Folk Singers. “She didn’t bat an eye. She just told me, ‘If you’re going to do this, I want you to be Mick Jagger, not Keith Richards.’ Like she’d been expecting it all the time. Keith might be the soul of the Stones but she wanted me to keep my eye on the business side.” This, it seems, is part of the reason Fallon doesn’t do drugs and has never got drunk. “There’s something that I need to constantly be proving to myself, and I can’t be drunk if I intend to do that. I don’t go out late at night. I go on the bus and write songs. I believe that you have to earn your keep here, and there is a time for celebration – but not until you’ve gotten to where you want to be. And I haven’t. I really need to prove that I belong here. I ask myself ‘Why is it you and not a hundred other better bands?’ It’s almost like I have survivor’s guilt, but in a totally different way.” It’s not just luck that’s propelled The Gaslight Anthem to headlining status and sold out shows. Benefiting from a massive underground following, and more than 300 days on the road for the past two years, The ’59 Sound – released by LA indie label SideOneDummy – debuted on the Billboard chart at No 70 in August 2008, selling 43,000 copies in its first week. “I’ve seen bands with talent, bands with drive, and bands with vision,” says Joe Sib, co-founder of SideOneDummy. “You can succeed with just two of the factors, but The Gaslight Anthem have all three. They’ve also learned from the mistakes of the bands they’ve looked up to and they’re not making those mistakes.” And, you can add, they’re hard workers. When not on the road, Fallon and his bandmates – guitarist Alex Rosamilia, bassist Alex Levine and drummer Benny Horowitz – clock on for an authentic working week. “Generally we practise about 11 until about five every day, Monday through Friday,” acknowledges Fallon. “We give each other the weekends off, but we really go at it and we don’t mess around our practice, like there’s not a lot of eating food and stuff. It’s full-on playing.” So who cracks the whip? “I do. But I try to be reasonable about it. The guy who owns our management firm said: ‘Brian is like a benevolent dictator. He’ll definitely crack the whip, but not without purpose. Not just to see you suffer.’ But I know myself. I’m going somewhere. I don’t know where that’s going to be, but I’m going there, and fast. If you want to come along that’s fine, and if you don’t that’s also fine. I know how to be alone. I was an only child, I know what alone is.” So far, everyone’s still along for the ride. But it’s interesting that while The Gaslight Anthem’s live performances are seamless and fast-paced – the sure sign of a band in complete communication with one another – Fallon is quick to point out there isn’t much in the way of socialising off stage. “From the very first it just worked. We’ve never had an awkward gig, ever. It just all came together immediately,” he says. “But the funny thing is, you couldn’t really call us friends. I think what we do kind of binds us together and I think our greatest strength is the way that we play together without communicating. We can’t talk to each other very often. Like I mean we talk when we’re not talking about music or work. But when we try to communicate things to each other about music, we speak in 10 different languages.” So who usually gets their own way? “I do,” he says, simply. It’s also Fallon who’s responsible for all the rock references in their songs. He peppers them with snippets of lyrics by Tom Petty, Bob Seger, Bob Dylan, Tom Waits, even Elton John. One website deconstructed their two albums and came up with 61 separate references – enough to kick off a pub quiz, surely. Fallon doesn’t even attempt to defend himself. “Of course, I know I do it,” he says, a little exasperated. “It surprises me when someone doesn’t get it. In ‘Blue Jeans And White T-Shirts’ I called myself out for it. After we wrote our first two records everyone said, ‘Do you have to use the name Maria in every song?’ So I wrote the line: “Call every girl we ever met Maria/But I only love Virginia’s heart.’” “The truth is, I see us as part of the tradition of narrative American rock. It’s very ceremonial for me, and this is part of the ceremony. I take it much more seriously than most people think. There’s people who can just say, ‘You’re copying Springsteen’s narratives and Tom Waits’ vocal style and The Clash’s guitar-playing.’ The greatest tragedy is that all of my other influences get ignored. I think it’s a disservice to the other artists that I love. If it wasn’t the combination of all of them, this record wouldn’t have been what it is. Bob Seger is as important to me as Tom Waits. Leonard Cohen is an influence for sure. The Pretenders. The vocal style, those call-and-response things, is all Chrissie Hynde. I’m not even talking like cool Pretenders. I’m talking about [1994’s] Last Of The Independents Pretenders.” Indeed, Fallon is quick to point out the impact The Clash had on him, as a callow 10-year-old. Looking for the new Rancid album in Sound Effects Records in Hackettstown, New Jersey, the proprietor had other ideas. “The guy who ran the place told me, ‘What you’re looking for is not anything you should be listening to. This is where you start.’ And he and his friend chipped in and bought me the first Clash album. Then he told me, ‘If you take this home and it doesn’t change your life, you bring it back.’” And did it? “Immediately. I heard the first couple songs and I wasn’t interested in ‘White Riot’ or those real aggressive songs, but when I got to ‘(White Man) In Hammersmith Palais’ and I heard the harmonica, and I just went, that’s me. Joe was a little rougher than Bruce was and that’s the thing that I liked. I realised you can have this rough edge and still be validated and say things worth saying and say poetic things. Before Joe, I never heard someone play the way I played yet be poetic at the same time.” A month after Strummer died in 2002, Fallon’s parents took him to Jesse Malin’s Niagara Bar in the Lower East Side of New York, where one of the walls has an airbrushed painting of Strummer. They took a photograph of the portrait and the next day Fallon had it tattooed on his left shoulder. “I Woulda Called You, Woody” on their debut album, Sink Or Swim from May 2007, began life as a letter Fallon was writing to Strummer’s widow. But, after playing with Springsteen at Glastonbury, the other great moment in Gaslight Anthem’s storied year occurred when they snagged a touring slot opening for another set of heroes – ’80s US hardcore trailblazers Social Distortion. “I was probably more nervous meeting [Social Distortion frontman] Mike Ness than I was meeting Springsteen. Why? Because Mike is so tangible and so intangible at the same time. He was the first person that I recognised was doing what I’m trying to do. If I could be anybody, I’d be him. He seemed so unaffected by the world. He’s the reason I started getting tattoos. He’s why I write the songs that I do.” For now, Fallon is looking to the future. After nearly two years of touring The ’59 Sound, he’s got a handle on where to take his band next. “I just taught myself to play piano and I’m determined to write a different record than the last two,” he reveals. “For me, this new record is inspired by The Supremes – those melodies. I’m also trying to get the panic of Mitch Ryder songs. ‘Devil In A Blue Dress’, bang! ‘Sock It To Me, Baby’, bang! That breakneck speed where you hear a song and even though tempo-wise the song is not that fast, at the end of it you feel like you’ve just been wrung out. “At the same time, I’m not trying to be original. I’m just trying to carry on a tradition. I’m going to try to write something I think is as great as ‘Backstreets’. That will be the thread through every work I ever do. Ever.”

As this month’s new Uncut (May 2012, Take 180) features Brian Fallon talking about The Gaslight Anthem’s upcoming new album, Handwritten, we thought it would be fitting to dig out this Uncut feature from January 2010 – in which Fallon tells Jaan Uhelszki how he became a rumbustious, show-stealing international phenomenon, beloved even by The Boss himself. Not bad for a tattooed punk kid whose “mother fed me Born To Run with my Cheerios”…

____________________

Three songs into The Gaslight Anthem’s set at this year’s Glastonbury festival, frontman Brian Fallon called for hush from the crowd.

“I’m hearing the waves of my hometown,” he explained in a stage whisper. “Somebody back there? Who’s coming out?”

Seconds later, a lithe, tanned Bruce Springsteen sauntered onstage carrying Fallon’s new Les Paul guitar. First throwing an arm round the neck of the singer, then ceremoniously and quaintly bowing to him, Springsteen plunged into The Gaslight Anthem’s “The ’59 Sound” as if he’d been playing it for years. In fact, it was decided only 10 minutes before the set that Springsteen would perform with the band.

Nearly four months later, Fallon still savours the moment. “I wanted to tap him on the shoulder and say, ‘Dude, did someone forget to tell you that you were Bruce Springsteen this morning?’” he says with a quick shake of his head. Some people might want to ask the heavily tattooed Fallon the same question.

But the comparisons are perhaps inevitable. Not only do The Gaslight Anthem hail from the same part of the world as Springsteen – New Jersey – they also specialise in similar, rambling narratives whose protagonists, identified only by their Christian names, bump up against their own mortality while living on the margins of poverty along the Jersey Shore. Their vision of life is witnessed from the back of a Chevy Nova speeding out of town – away from this place of low horizons and Soprano mob swagger – bidding goodbye to a romanticised teenage street life for some imagined rosier future.

The fact that Springsteen is a fan isn’t a stretch, it’s more or less a foregone conclusion. “You know Springsteen is a hero to a lot of people in New Jersey,” says Fallon. “He’s a role model, because he’s a local guy who got out.”

For the last nine months The Gaslight Anthem have ranked among Springsteen’s Top Friends on MySpace, ever since his eldest son Evan attended one of their shows and raved about it to his father. They finally met in December 2008 at a benefit in New Jersey, after Springsteen asked a friend, singer-songwriter Nicole Atkins, to introduce them.

“Although I met him in December, it wasn’t until Glastonbury that we were anointed,” Fallon says with a short laugh that’s caught somewhere between self-awareness and irony.

But he’s right. Within days of the Glastonbury show – and a support slot for Springsteen in Hyde Park the next day, where Bruce once again joined them for “The ’59 Sound” – sales of The Gaslight Anthem’s second album, The ’59 Sound, rose 200 per cent. Within a month, they were selling out shows in both the UK and America, with Fallon identified as the “next Springsteen” – in much the same way Springsteen used to get called the “next Dylan”. Not that the comparisons seem to bother the 29-year-old – or so he says.

“I grew up in the next town over from Asbury Park, and five streets from E Street,” Fallon explains, when we meet in Chicago for the last dates of their current tour. “My mother fed me Born To Run with my Cheerios.”

Fallon grew up just outside Spring Lake, a New Jersey borough known for its golf courses, country clubs and as the birthplace of Jack Nicholson. A mile away, you’ll find the less salubrious Spring Lake Heights. Named the 28th most desirable place to live in New Jersey, it boasts only 5,227 residents – many of them factory workers from nearby Freehold.

“It was like the septic tank of what was left over from Spring Lake. It’s like, let the poor people have this block, you know? The things I’ve seen are the same things he [Springsteen] had seen, only 30 years later.”

Songs like “Great Expectations”, “I Coulda Been A Contender” and “Wooderson”, underscore the claustrophobia that Fallon felt growing up in Spring Lake Heights. In “Wooderson”, for instance, a line like “They got one pill to make you smaller, they have one pill to make you scream,” should give you sense of what it was like to be imprisoned in this small blue-collar town. His songs crackle with the same kind of dramatic authority and fatalism that Springsteen brought to Born To Run. While more than three decades separate them, both men were determined not to be smothered by their geographic destiny. As Fallon sings in “High Lonesome” – “The taste of defeat was never too far from your mind”. But instead of paralysing Fallon, such limitations have galvanised him.

“Everybody told us we would never make it,” he explains. “Even friends would say to me, ‘Okay this band thing is cool, but seriously, what are you really going to do?’ I can’t think of anyone who believed in us, and that was fuel for the fire, because the more anybody said I wouldn’t do it, the more I was like, ‘No, I’m going to do it.’ The only one who believed in me was my mother. She would always say to me that I was the one in a million who was going to do it.”

After a failed entrance interview for the Pratt Institute, one of the pre-eminent art schools in America, Fallon abandoned his dreams of being a graphic artist and clothing designer to become a musician. But not entirely: many of his songs include references to ensembles, pearls and, most of all, shoes.

“Shoes are everything,” he offers. “You can tell more about a man from his shoes than his handshake, because they tell where you’re going. It’s almost as if who you wish you were is on your shoes.”

So what about you?

“I wear shoes without laces that slip on because I wish I could just be a casual guy.”

But you’re not?

“No, not at all.”

You’re a serious guy?

“Very serious. I always think of those old pictures of Tom Waits wearing those pointy shoes with the buckles – the Stacey shoes. He always wished he could be a Casanova and instead he was a genius.”

As for his mother, she wasn’t as daunted as he’d anticipated by his career change. Now a heath authority worker, she’d once been a member of Jersey band, The Group Folk Singers.

“She didn’t bat an eye. She just told me, ‘If you’re going to do this, I want you to be Mick Jagger, not Keith Richards.’ Like she’d been expecting it all the time. Keith might be the soul of the Stones but she wanted me to keep my eye on the business side.”

This, it seems, is part of the reason Fallon doesn’t do drugs and has never got drunk.

“There’s something that I need to constantly be proving to myself, and I can’t be drunk if I intend to do that. I don’t go out late at night. I go on the bus and write songs. I believe that you have to earn your keep here, and there is a time for celebration – but not until you’ve gotten to where you want to be. And I haven’t. I really need to prove that I belong here. I ask myself ‘Why is it you and not a hundred other better bands?’ It’s almost like I have survivor’s guilt, but in a totally different way.”

It’s not just luck that’s propelled The Gaslight Anthem to headlining status and sold out shows. Benefiting from a massive underground following, and more than 300 days on the road for the past two years, The ’59 Sound – released by LA indie label SideOneDummy – debuted on the Billboard chart at No 70 in August 2008, selling 43,000 copies in its first week.

“I’ve seen bands with talent, bands with drive, and bands with vision,” says Joe Sib, co-founder of SideOneDummy. “You can succeed with just two of the factors, but The Gaslight Anthem have all three. They’ve also learned from the mistakes of the bands they’ve looked up to and they’re not making those mistakes.”

And, you can add, they’re hard workers. When not on the road, Fallon and his bandmates – guitarist Alex Rosamilia, bassist Alex Levine and drummer Benny Horowitz – clock on for an authentic working week.

“Generally we practise about 11 until about five every day, Monday through Friday,” acknowledges Fallon. “We give each other the weekends off, but we really go at it and we don’t mess around our practice, like there’s not a lot of eating food and stuff. It’s full-on playing.”

So who cracks the whip?

“I do. But I try to be reasonable about it. The guy who owns our management firm said: ‘Brian is like a benevolent dictator. He’ll definitely crack the whip, but not without purpose. Not just to see you suffer.’ But I know myself. I’m going somewhere. I don’t know where that’s going to be, but I’m going there, and fast. If you want to come along that’s fine, and if you don’t that’s also fine. I know how to be alone. I was an only child, I know what alone is.”

So far, everyone’s still along for the ride. But it’s interesting that while The Gaslight Anthem’s live performances are seamless and fast-paced – the sure sign of a band in complete communication with one another – Fallon is quick to point out there isn’t much in the way of socialising off stage.

“From the very first it just worked. We’ve never had an awkward gig, ever. It just all came together immediately,” he says. “But the funny thing is, you couldn’t really call us friends. I think what we do kind of binds us together and I think our greatest strength is the way that we play together without communicating. We can’t talk to each other very often. Like I mean we talk when we’re not talking about music or work. But when we try to communicate things to each other about music, we speak in 10 different languages.”

So who usually gets their own way?

“I do,” he says, simply.

It’s also Fallon who’s responsible for all the rock references in their songs. He peppers them with snippets of lyrics by Tom Petty, Bob Seger, Bob Dylan, Tom Waits, even Elton John. One website deconstructed their two albums and came up with 61 separate references – enough to kick off a pub quiz, surely.

Fallon doesn’t even attempt to defend himself. “Of course, I know I do it,” he says, a little exasperated. “It surprises me when someone doesn’t get it. In ‘Blue Jeans And White T-Shirts’ I called myself out for it. After we wrote our first two records everyone said, ‘Do you have to use the name Maria in every song?’ So I wrote the line: “Call every girl we ever met Maria/But I only love Virginia’s heart.’”

“The truth is, I see us as part of the tradition of narrative American rock. It’s very ceremonial for me, and this is part of the ceremony. I take it much more seriously than most people think. There’s people who can just say, ‘You’re copying Springsteen’s narratives and Tom Waits’ vocal style and The Clash’s guitar-playing.’ The greatest tragedy is that all of my other influences get ignored. I think it’s a disservice to the other artists that I love. If it wasn’t the combination of all of them, this record wouldn’t have been what it is. Bob Seger is as important to me as Tom Waits. Leonard Cohen is an influence for sure. The Pretenders. The vocal style, those call-and-response things, is all Chrissie Hynde. I’m not even talking like cool Pretenders. I’m talking about [1994’s] Last Of The Independents Pretenders.”

Indeed, Fallon is quick to point out the impact The Clash had on him, as a callow 10-year-old. Looking for the new Rancid album in Sound Effects Records in Hackettstown, New Jersey, the proprietor had other ideas.

“The guy who ran the place told me, ‘What you’re looking for is not anything you should be listening to. This is where you start.’ And he and his friend chipped in and bought me the first Clash album. Then he told me, ‘If you take this home and it doesn’t change your life, you bring it back.’”

And did it?

“Immediately. I heard the first couple songs and I wasn’t interested in ‘White Riot’ or those real aggressive songs, but when I got to ‘(White Man) In Hammersmith Palais’ and I heard the harmonica, and I just went, that’s me. Joe was a little rougher than Bruce was and that’s the thing that I liked. I realised you can have this rough edge and still be validated and say things worth saying and say poetic things. Before Joe, I never heard someone play the way I played yet be poetic at the same time.”

A month after Strummer died in 2002, Fallon’s parents took him to Jesse Malin’s Niagara Bar in the Lower East Side of New York, where one of the walls has an airbrushed painting of Strummer. They took a photograph of the portrait and the next day Fallon had it tattooed on his left shoulder. “I Woulda Called You, Woody” on their debut album, Sink Or Swim from May 2007, began life as a letter Fallon was writing to Strummer’s widow.

But, after playing with Springsteen at Glastonbury, the other great moment in Gaslight Anthem’s storied year occurred when they snagged a touring slot opening for another set of heroes – ’80s US hardcore trailblazers Social Distortion.

“I was probably more nervous meeting [Social Distortion frontman] Mike Ness than I was meeting Springsteen. Why? Because Mike is so tangible and so intangible at the same time. He was the first person that I recognised was doing what I’m trying to do. If I could be anybody, I’d be him. He seemed so unaffected by the world. He’s the reason I started getting tattoos. He’s why I write the songs that I do.”

For now, Fallon is looking to the future. After nearly two years of touring The ’59 Sound, he’s got a handle on where to take his band next.

“I just taught myself to play piano and I’m determined to write a different record than the last two,” he reveals. “For me, this new record is inspired by The Supremes – those melodies. I’m also trying to get the panic of Mitch Ryder songs. ‘Devil In A Blue Dress’, bang! ‘Sock It To Me, Baby’, bang! That breakneck speed where you hear a song and even though tempo-wise the song is not that fast, at the end of it you feel like you’ve just been wrung out.

“At the same time, I’m not trying to be original. I’m just trying to carry on a tradition. I’m going to try to write something I think is as great as ‘Backstreets’. That will be the thread through every work I ever do. Ever.”

Soundgarden debut their first new song for 15 years ‘Live To Rise’ – listen

0
Soundgarden have debuted their first new song for over 15 years, which is titled 'Live To Rise'. Scroll down to the bottom of the page and click to hear the track. The track is taken from the soundtrack for the new Hollywood blockbuster The Avengers, which also features Kasabian, Rise Against, Bu...

Soundgarden have debuted their first new song for over 15 years, which is titled ‘Live To Rise’. Scroll down to the bottom of the page and click to hear the track.

The track is taken from the soundtrack for the new Hollywood blockbuster The Avengers, which also features Kasabian, Rise Against, Bush, Black Veil Brides, Papa Roach, Five Finger Death Punch and Evanescence.

Soundgarden are currently putting the finishing touches to their sixth studio album, which will be their first new record since 1996’s ‘Down On The Upside’. They reunited in 2010, 12 years after they originally split up.

The band will come to the UK this summer to headline Hard Rock Calling festival in London. Soundgarden, who will also perform at this summer’s Download Festival, join Bruce Springsteen and Paul Simon in headlining the event.

The Avengers will be released in the UK under the title of Marvel Avengers Assemble on April 26. It will be released in the US simply as The Avengers.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WTrDzajvSBk

Jarvis Cocker: ‘I’m working on ideas for new Pulp songs’

0
Jarvis Cocker has revealed that he has been working on ideas for new Pulp songs. Speaking to Shortlist, the frontman admitted that although he wasn't sure what would happen with the new material, he had still been thinking about the possibility of a fresh batch of tracks. Asked if there were an...

Jarvis Cocker has revealed that he has been working on ideas for new Pulp songs.

Speaking to Shortlist, the frontman admitted that although he wasn’t sure what would happen with the new material, he had still been thinking about the possibility of a fresh batch of tracks.

Asked if there were any new Pulp songs in the pipeline, he answered: “It took us long enough to relearn the old songs, so we’ll have to see about that. But I’ve got ideas. I keep my little notebook, I’ve always got that with me. Hopefully there’s more stuff than nonsense in there.”

Cocker also admitted he had been “super-worried” before Pulp’s reunion shows last year. “You may have spent your life doing something, but that doesn’t necessarily mean anyone else is bothered,” he said. “So it was nice that people were bothered when we decided to play some shows. And the fact that it wasn’t all bald heads when we looked out was nice as well. Some reasonably young people came to see us.”

Last week (March 31), Pulp played their first live show of 2012 at London’s Royal Albert Hall as part of this year’s run of Teenage Cancer Trust gigs.

The set spanned Pulp’s vast career, even including a rendition of 1983’s ‘My Lighthouse’ during the encore.

Cocker’s sister Saskia and her school friend Jill Talbot – who sang backing vocals on the original track – were invited onstage to perform, almost 30 years after the song was first recorded. Pulp also played the likes of ‘Mis-Shapes’, ‘I Spy’, ‘Common People’ and ‘Disco 2000’.

Pete Doherty: ‘When Amy Winehouse died I was knee-deep in shit’

0
Pete Doherty has spoken about his reaction to the death of Amy Winehouse and has revealed that he was "wallowing in his own filth" when he heard the news that the 'Back To Black' singer was dead. The former Libertines man, who is now residing in Paris, told NME that he was alone in his flat in Ca...

Pete Doherty has spoken about his reaction to the death of Amy Winehouse and has revealed that he was “wallowing in his own filth” when he heard the news that the ‘Back To Black’ singer was dead.

The former Libertines man, who is now residing in Paris, told NME that he was alone in his flat in Camden when he heard that Winehouse had died and was left unable to move by the news.

Speaking about this, Doherty said: “When Amy died I was sat in a matchbox room in Camden Town, not able to leave, basically wallowing in my own filth. Literally knee-deep in shit. Literally not able to move. I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t see anyone, I couldn’t pick up the guitar and when I did pick up the guitar it was woeful ballads about how Amy wouldn’t be coming round tonight. It wasn’t a very inspiring time.”

Doherty also revealed that although he wanted to attend Winehouse’s funeral, her father Mitch did not want him there.

Speaking about this, Doherty said: “I think she would have wanted me at her funeral. It’s a personal feeling of grief I’ve never had the chance to see through. I’m made to feel that I’m not her friend, which I was. She came to the Libertines’ gig at the forum. We came back to the hotel and she stayed all night. At one point it was me, her and Carl having a little sing-song.”

The former Libertines singer also opened up about Mitch Winehouse throwing him out of the singer’s hotel room, after deeming him a bad influence on her.

He recounted: “I remember one time she was due to play at the Apollo in Hammersmith, she said: ‘I saw you and Babyshambles play last week. I’ll show you a real gig, come to my hotel room.’ Her dad turned up at the hotel and told me ‘You’ve got to go’.”

Morrissey – Viva Hate

0

Moz reissues his fine solo debut... It’s hard to recall now, after a quarter-century of stardom, scandal, exile, rebirth and lingering notoriety, quite how dicey Morrissey’s prospects seemed in the livid aftermath of the Smiths’ disintegration. The form of previous frontmen gone solo, from Mick Jagger to Joe Strummer to Ian McCulloch, was not promising. Paul Weller, with the considerable advantages of the singer/songwriter, had successfully escaped the Jam, but by the late 80s even he faced being dropped by his label. In the winter of 1987 it seemed all too easy to imagine Morrissey, draped in his widow’s weeds, anticipating an endless circuit of cemetery tours with Howard Devoto and Linder. Of course he had considered the prospect. One of the best songs on Viva Hate is “Little Man, What Now?”, a scintillating consideration, by way of Dennis Norden’s Looks Familiar, of the fatally fleeting nature of fame: “Friday nights, 1969/ATV you murdered every line/.../Four seasons passed and they AXED you”. Was the demise of the Smiths to prove his own chopping block? That he eluded this fate is testament to his enduring genius for emergency escapology and a certain Irish luck. The luck being the unlikely emergence of Stephen Street, long-time Smiths engineer/producer, as a credible songwriting partner. The genius being his ability to fashion the urgency and trauma of the split into some of the finest songs of his career. “Suedehead”, the lead single from Viva Hate, released in February 1987, just two months after the final Smiths release, was a breezy, easily loveable, mock apology (“I’m so sorry”, addressed to both Marr and the Smiths audience, curdling into “I’m so sickened”), radiant with early spring jangle, propelled with the backing of EMI to his highest chart placing to date. But “Every Day Is Like Sunday”, was the real clincher, a career-defining song that proved indupitably that his muse could flourish outside the Smiths. Elevated by Street’s majestic, swarming string arrangement, the song felt like a coronation, the establishment of Morrissey into an honoured English lineage alongside the likes of John Betjeman (the cadging of “Come friendly bombs...” from “Slough”) and Tony Hancock (the existential English exasperation of “Sunday Afternoon At Home”, the suicidal seaside of The Punch and Judy Man). The album itself didn’t disappoint. Howling into furious life with “Alsation Cousin”, rising to a elegiac pitch on “Angel, Angel, Down We Go Together”, lost in moonglow reverie on “Late Night, Maudlin Street”, and concluding with the dreamy execution of “Margaret On The Guillotine”, it was enlived by the very desparation and urgency that was largely missing from Strangeways. It’s hard to overstate the contribution of Moz’s fellow Ed Banger and the Nosebleeds alumnus Vini Reilly - one of the few English guitarists in the same league as Marr. Reilly’s entranced playing almost redeems “Bengali In Platforms” (a song Morrissey might claim is an imaginative act of identification, part of the cast of tutued vicars, rent boys, failing boxers, and wheelchair users elsewhere in his corpus, but which singularly fails to escape patronising mockery) and sublimely stages the centrepiece of the album “Late Night Maudlin Street”. It’s a song about the pain of transition,the misery of eviction from the home, or band, you thought you’d made, and it’s the closest Morrissey ever got to kind of Joni Mitchell/Rickie Lee Jones intimate epic he revered. So it’s puzzling to find that on this reissue the song is abruptly shorn of its final minute. The puzzle is compounded when “The Ordinary Boys”, admittedly one of the weakest tracks on the album, is replaced with an, if anything, even weaker song, “Treat Me Like A Human Being”, a demo that’s incongruously lofi amid the general excellence of the remaster. Is he embarrassed by perceived weakness of singing and writing? Has Preston’s shameful treatment of Chantelle soured his feelings for “The Ordinary Boys”? These odd revisions follow the 2009 reissues of Southpaw Grammar and Maladjusted, where he reordered and revised tracklistings and commissioned new artwork. However you try to explain it, in the absence of a new record on the horizon, Morrissey increasingly resembles the elder Henry James or Wordsworth, driven to endless, fruitless, tinkering with their vital early work. Can even Morrissey escape this final ignominy? Stephen Troussé

Moz reissues his fine solo debut…

It’s hard to recall now, after a quarter-century of stardom, scandal, exile, rebirth and lingering notoriety, quite how dicey Morrissey’s prospects seemed in the livid aftermath of the Smiths’ disintegration. The form of previous frontmen gone solo, from Mick Jagger to Joe Strummer to Ian McCulloch, was not promising. Paul Weller, with the considerable advantages of the singer/songwriter, had successfully escaped the Jam, but by the late 80s even he faced being dropped by his label. In the winter of 1987 it seemed all too easy to imagine Morrissey, draped in his widow’s weeds, anticipating an endless circuit of cemetery tours with Howard Devoto and Linder.

Of course he had considered the prospect. One of the best songs on Viva Hate is “Little Man, What Now?”, a scintillating consideration, by way of Dennis Norden’s Looks Familiar, of the fatally fleeting nature of fame: “Friday nights, 1969/ATV you murdered every line/…/Four seasons passed and they AXED you”. Was the demise of the Smiths to prove his own chopping block?

That he eluded this fate is testament to his enduring genius for emergency escapology and a certain Irish luck. The luck being the unlikely emergence of Stephen Street, long-time Smiths engineer/producer, as a credible songwriting partner. The genius being his ability to fashion the urgency and trauma of the split into some of the finest songs of his career.

“Suedehead”, the lead single from Viva Hate, released in February 1987, just two months after the final Smiths release, was a breezy, easily loveable, mock apology (“I’m so sorry”, addressed to both Marr and the Smiths audience, curdling into “I’m so sickened”), radiant with early spring jangle, propelled with the backing of EMI to his highest chart placing to date. But “Every Day Is Like Sunday”, was the real clincher, a career-defining song that proved indupitably that his muse could flourish outside the Smiths. Elevated by Street’s majestic, swarming string arrangement, the song felt like a coronation, the establishment of Morrissey into an honoured English lineage alongside the likes of John Betjeman (the cadging of “Come friendly bombs…” from “Slough”) and Tony Hancock (the existential English exasperation of “Sunday Afternoon At Home”, the suicidal seaside of The Punch and Judy Man).

The album itself didn’t disappoint. Howling into furious life with “Alsation Cousin”, rising to a elegiac pitch on “Angel, Angel, Down We Go Together”, lost in moonglow reverie on “Late Night, Maudlin Street”, and concluding with the dreamy execution of “Margaret On The Guillotine”, it was enlived by the very desparation and urgency that was largely missing from Strangeways.

It’s hard to overstate the contribution of Moz’s fellow Ed Banger and the Nosebleeds alumnus Vini Reilly – one of the few English guitarists in the same league as Marr. Reilly’s entranced playing almost redeems “Bengali In Platforms” (a song Morrissey might claim is an imaginative act of identification, part of the cast of tutued vicars, rent boys, failing boxers, and wheelchair users elsewhere in his corpus, but which singularly fails to escape patronising mockery) and sublimely stages the centrepiece of the album “Late Night Maudlin Street”. It’s a song about the pain of transition,the misery of eviction from the home, or band, you thought you’d made, and it’s the closest Morrissey ever got to kind of Joni Mitchell/Rickie Lee Jones intimate epic he revered.

So it’s puzzling to find that on this reissue the song is abruptly shorn of its final minute. The puzzle is compounded when “The Ordinary Boys”, admittedly one of the weakest tracks on the album, is replaced with an, if anything, even weaker song, “Treat Me Like A Human Being”, a demo that’s incongruously lofi amid the general excellence of the remaster.

Is he embarrassed by perceived weakness of singing and writing? Has Preston’s shameful treatment of Chantelle soured his feelings for “The Ordinary Boys”? These odd revisions follow the 2009 reissues of Southpaw Grammar and Maladjusted, where he reordered and revised tracklistings and commissioned new artwork. However you try to explain it, in the absence of a new record on the horizon, Morrissey increasingly resembles the elder Henry James or Wordsworth, driven to endless, fruitless, tinkering with their vital early work. Can even Morrissey escape this final ignominy?

Stephen Troussé

Grateful Dead – All The Years Combine

The full extent of the Dead’s official DVD arsenal... According to the Dead’s chief audiovisual archivist David Lemieux, there are now over 2,500 videotapes in the band’s vault, alongside its renowned stash of 16,000 audio tapes. All The Years Combine may only be scratching the surface, but it’s the most complete Grateful Dead DVD collection to date: 14 discs taking in 10 concerts, ranging from The Grateful Dead Movie, filmed in 1974, to an RFK Stadium show in 1991, featuring what turned out to be the Dead’s final line up. Joining these films are a disappointing 55-minute conceptual film So Far, from 1987. Completing the box is an exclusive bonus disc, the centrepiece of which is Justin Kreutzmann’s beautifully crafted documentary Backstage Pass, which affectionately chronicles every musician to have played in the band between The Acid Tests in 1965 and the Dead’s final concert at Soldier Field, Chicago in July 1995. The two Seventies concerts are the most elaborate, painstakingly edited films in this collection. For atmosphere and thrills, The Closing Of Winterland, from the Dead’s annual New Year’s Eve concert in 1978, has the edge over the more venerated Grateful Dead Movie. It’s distinguished by a devastating second set that comes to life on a smouldering “Terrapin Station”, ending with a rousing “Not Fade Away” featuring War’s harmonica player Lee Oskar and scything guitar from Quicksilver’s John Cippolina. In contrast, Dead Ahead from Radio City Music Hall in October 1980, celebrates the final tour where the Dead opened each night with an acoustic selection, sitting on stools and picking genially through their own homespun folk anthems “Ripple”, “Bird Song” and “To Lay Me Down”. Truckin’ Up To Buffalo, a full show from July 4, 1989, is memorable for another inspired second set. The Dead always took a while to hit their stride; emerging after the first break full of smiles and encouraging nods, before unleashing a brutal “All Along The Watchtower”, straight into a scorching “Morning Dew” and followed by another “Not Fade Away”. This version stands out for the unusually animated interplay between a jovial Jerry Garcia and keyboardist Brent Mydland. The four discs from the more intimate View From The Vault series were compiled from basic videotaped recordings made for the big screens at stadium gigs. Using only the two track sound straight from the PA, they are video equivalent of Dick’s Picks, the Dead’s long-running series of live albums. Two of them date from 1990, another combines a couple of the group’s own sets on the spotty Dylan And The Dead tour in 1987, while the best is an RFK Stadium show from June 1991, filmed a year after Brent Mydland’s death, when keyboard duties had been picked up by Vince Welnick and Bruce Hornby. Once again, its the second set that’s the best, the group vigorously tearing into the grand Blues For Allah song cycle, ”Help On The Way”/”Slipknot!”/”Franklin’s Tower”. It’s followed by a spectral “Dark Star” before Bob Weir, full of gusto, takes on “Turn On Your Lovelight”, traditionally one of former frontman Pigpen’s down-and-dirty showstoppers. The mood intensifies as Garcia steps up to sing “Stella Blue”, then an impassioned “It’s All Over Now Baby Blue” with the fresh-faced Hornsby on accordion. This show is very much a last hurrah for the Dead; arguably, they never really reached such magical heights again. Witnessing their almost evangelical bond with audiences, the recurring image is one of warmth and camaraderie; just a bunch of working stiffs who liked nothing more than playing in the band. EXTRAS: In addition to Backstage Pass, the bonus disc has an engaging interview with archivist David Lemiuex, plus five further unreleased clips. Also includes all bonus material from previous releases. 8/10 MICK HOUGHTON

The full extent of the Dead’s official DVD arsenal…

According to the Dead’s chief audiovisual archivist David Lemieux, there are now over 2,500 videotapes in the band’s vault, alongside its renowned stash of 16,000 audio tapes. All The Years Combine may only be scratching the surface, but it’s the most complete Grateful Dead DVD collection to date: 14 discs taking in 10 concerts, ranging from The Grateful Dead Movie, filmed in 1974, to an RFK Stadium show in 1991, featuring what turned out to be the Dead’s final line up. Joining these films are a disappointing 55-minute conceptual film So Far, from 1987. Completing the box is an exclusive bonus disc, the centrepiece of which is Justin Kreutzmann’s beautifully crafted documentary Backstage Pass, which affectionately chronicles every musician to have played in the band between The Acid Tests in 1965 and the Dead’s final concert at Soldier Field, Chicago in July 1995.

The two Seventies concerts are the most elaborate, painstakingly edited films in this collection. For atmosphere and thrills, The Closing Of Winterland, from the Dead’s annual New Year’s Eve concert in 1978, has the edge over the more venerated Grateful Dead Movie. It’s distinguished by a devastating second set that comes to life on a smouldering “Terrapin Station”, ending with a rousing “Not Fade Away” featuring War’s harmonica player Lee Oskar and scything guitar from Quicksilver’s John Cippolina. In contrast, Dead Ahead from Radio City Music Hall in October 1980, celebrates the final tour where the Dead opened each night with an acoustic selection, sitting on stools and picking genially through their own homespun folk anthems “Ripple”, “Bird Song” and “To Lay Me Down”.

Truckin’ Up To Buffalo, a full show from July 4, 1989, is memorable for another inspired second set. The Dead always took a while to hit their stride; emerging after the first break full of smiles and encouraging nods, before unleashing a brutal “All Along The Watchtower”, straight into a scorching “Morning Dew” and followed by another “Not Fade Away”. This version stands out for the unusually animated interplay between a jovial Jerry Garcia and keyboardist Brent Mydland.

The four discs from the more intimate View From The Vault series were compiled from basic videotaped recordings made for the big screens at stadium gigs. Using only the two track sound straight from the PA, they are video equivalent of Dick’s Picks, the Dead’s long-running series of live albums. Two of them date from 1990, another combines a couple of the group’s own sets on the spotty Dylan And The Dead tour in 1987, while the best is an RFK Stadium show from June 1991, filmed a year after Brent Mydland’s death, when keyboard duties had been picked up by Vince Welnick and Bruce Hornby. Once again, its the second set that’s the best, the group vigorously tearing into the grand Blues For Allah song cycle, ”Help On The Way”/”Slipknot!”/”Franklin’s Tower”. It’s followed by a spectral “Dark Star” before Bob Weir, full of gusto, takes on “Turn On Your Lovelight”, traditionally one of former frontman Pigpen’s down-and-dirty showstoppers. The mood intensifies as Garcia steps up to sing “Stella Blue”, then an impassioned “It’s All Over Now Baby Blue” with the fresh-faced Hornsby on accordion. This show is very much a last hurrah for the Dead; arguably, they never really reached such magical heights again. Witnessing their almost evangelical bond with audiences, the recurring image is one of warmth and camaraderie; just a bunch of working stiffs who liked nothing more than playing in the band.

EXTRAS: In addition to Backstage Pass, the bonus disc has an engaging interview with archivist David Lemiuex, plus five further unreleased clips. Also includes all bonus material from previous releases.

8/10

MICK HOUGHTON

Andrew Bird – Break It To Yourself

0

Chicagoan prodigy drops his guard and takes flight.. Like the green parakeets of south London, Andrew Bird is an exotic creature (violin prodigy, jazz-folk-zydeco musical adventurer, musical-saw virtuoso and world-class whistler) who has adapted himself impeccably to a more staid environment - in his case the 21st century, post-Arcade Fire ecology of adult alternative. So successfully, in fact, that his eighth album, 2009’s Noble Beast, debuted at number 12 on the US album charts and established him as the darling of NPR. Nevertheless, you still got vivid flashes of peregrine plumage, not least in his lyrics, which revealed him to be the most recondite rhymester this side of Edith Sitwell. Noble Beast featured not just “calcified arythmatists” and “young radiolarians” but “proto-Sanskrit Minoans” and indeed “a colony of dermestids”. Break It Yourself by contrast feels like an attempt to communicate more directly and is his most affecting album yet. “Eyeoneye”, for example, may refer to reionisation and defibrillation, but, rocking along on a Win-Butler-goes-Spector beat, is concerned with more visceral matters: “you’ve done the impossible/ took yourself apart/made yourself invulnerable/no on can touch your heart/ so... you break it yourself”. Similarly “Lazy Projector” extends a metaphysically cinematic metaphor but concludes, simply “I can’t see the sense in us breaking up at all”. Elsewhere Bird lets a little air into his previously overly-studied exercises “Danse Caribe” seems borne on some blithe gulf stream breeze from Van’s “Cyprus Avenue” back to the rhythms of Trinidadian soca, while “Hole In Ocean” ascends to Vaughan Williams heights. But the album’s two highlights hit a perfectly judged pitch of heartbreak: “Lusitania”, which seems to tramp the dream prairies of early Grant Lee Buffalo, and best of all, “Sifters”, a lovely lullaby of departure in which “the moon plays the ocean like a violin”. Stephen Troussé

Chicagoan prodigy drops his guard and takes flight..

Like the green parakeets of south London, Andrew Bird is an exotic creature (violin prodigy, jazz-folk-zydeco musical adventurer, musical-saw virtuoso and world-class whistler) who has adapted himself impeccably to a more staid environment – in his case the 21st century, post-Arcade Fire ecology of adult alternative. So successfully, in fact, that his eighth album, 2009’s Noble Beast, debuted at number 12 on the US album charts and established him as the darling of NPR.

Nevertheless, you still got vivid flashes of peregrine plumage, not least in his lyrics, which revealed him to be the most recondite rhymester this side of Edith Sitwell. Noble Beast featured not just “calcified arythmatists” and “young radiolarians” but “proto-Sanskrit Minoans” and indeed “a colony of dermestids”. Break It Yourself by contrast feels like an attempt to communicate more directly and is his most affecting album yet.

“Eyeoneye”, for example, may refer to reionisation and defibrillation, but, rocking along on a Win-Butler-goes-Spector beat, is concerned with more visceral matters: “you’ve done the impossible/ took yourself apart/made yourself invulnerable/no on can touch your heart/ so… you break it yourself”. Similarly “Lazy Projector” extends a metaphysically cinematic metaphor but concludes, simply “I can’t see the sense in us breaking up at all”.

Elsewhere Bird lets a little air into his previously overly-studied exercises “Danse Caribe” seems borne on some blithe gulf stream breeze from Van’s “Cyprus Avenue” back to the rhythms of Trinidadian soca, while “Hole In Ocean” ascends to Vaughan Williams heights. But the album’s two highlights hit a perfectly judged pitch of heartbreak: “Lusitania”, which seems to tramp the dream prairies of early Grant Lee Buffalo, and best of all, “Sifters”, a lovely lullaby of departure in which “the moon plays the ocean like a violin”.

Stephen Troussé

The Kid With A Bike

0

Belgian superstar filmmaker brothers gonna work it out... The Belgian Dadenne brothers, Jean-Pierre and Luc, are heavyweight European filmakers, having twice won the Palme d’Or at the Cannes Film Festival and, with The Kid With A Bike, the festival’s Grand Jury Prize. You can draw comparisons – superficially, at least – between the Dardennes and filmmakers like Ken Loach and Mike Leigh, who explore a similar social landscape. The Kid With A Bike explores the relationship between 12 year-old Cyril (Thomas Doret, who closely resembles Kes’ David Bradley) and Samantha (Cécile de France), a local hairdresser who takes him in when his father disappears. Cyril is unable to understand that his father abandoned him. In one of the film’s many understated but powerful scenes, Cyril’s father – played by Dardennes’ regular Olivier Gourmet – almost breaks down as he explains to Samantha that he just can’t cope with raising a 12 year-old boy. As ever with the Dardennes, it’s their instinctive understanding of human behaviour that makes their films so compelling.

Belgian superstar filmmaker brothers gonna work it out…

The Belgian Dadenne brothers, Jean-Pierre and Luc, are heavyweight European filmakers, having twice won the Palme d’Or at the Cannes Film Festival and, with The Kid With A Bike, the festival’s Grand Jury Prize.

You can draw comparisons – superficially, at least – between the Dardennes and filmmakers like Ken Loach and Mike Leigh, who explore a similar social landscape. The Kid With A Bike explores the relationship between 12 year-old Cyril (Thomas Doret, who closely resembles Kes’ David Bradley) and Samantha (Cécile de France), a local hairdresser who takes him in when his father disappears.

Cyril is unable to understand that his father abandoned him. In one of the film’s many understated but powerful scenes, Cyril’s father – played by Dardennes’ regular Olivier Gourmet – almost breaks down as he explains to Samantha that he just can’t cope with raising a 12 year-old boy. As ever with the Dardennes, it’s their instinctive understanding of human behaviour that makes their films so compelling.

Michael Kiwanaku – Home Again

0

Earnest, soulful debut from hotly tipped North Londoner... The BBC’s annual ‘Sound Of’ award has an impressive history of picking the right names for the year ahead. So will Michael Kiwanaku, the Beeb’s choice for “Sound of 2012” likewise go on to sell albums by the lorryload? Probably. Home Again is an arresting, if low key debut, that confirms its creator’s rapid ascent. Last year Kiwanaku, a modest 25 year old from Muswell Hill (of Ugandan parents), was plying his trade as a singer-songwriter in North London pubs. Now he fronts his own band, recently playing to 2,000 people at the Worldwide Awards. Support slots with Adele and Laura Marling have helped his climb, but much of the work was done by last year’s Tell Me A Tale EP – all three tracks are here - that had him widely likened to the folk-soul sound of yesteryear greats Bill Withers and Terry Callier. The comparisons are not entirely fanciful. Kiwanaku’s gruff, direct vocals are akin to Withers’, while his songs are similarly simple affairs driven by acoustic guitar. After that the similarities start to fade. Withers was ex-navy when he made it, a seasoned observer of life and love. The ten songs on Home Again are the heartfelt cries of a young man looking for his place in the world, their vulnerability being part of their appeal. Opener “Tell Me A Tale” hits the spot straightaway, with its plea to “turn me around so I can be /everything I was meant to be”. With its washes of strings and dancing flute contrasting to Kiwanaku’s powerful voice, there’s a touch of Van Morrison’s Astral Weeks in play too. Kiwakanu hands credit to producer Paul Butler of The Bees for the orchestral flourishes that wrap around what were previously spartan songs. Having seen Kiwakanu play, Butler offered him his isle of Wight studio and secured him a record deal. The mood of world weariness but hoping for better times is the mainspring of Home Again, with most tracks following the same structure, moving from a bare, acoustic opening into orchestration. It’s an effective ploy, though one arguably over-used, and has helped make “I’ll Get Along” and “Home Again”, feel like a familiar classics after a few months of exposure. Variety arrives in an unlikely shape on “Bones”, the kind of whimsical love call likely to pop up on a Norah Jones album. Kiwanaku drawls and pines for that certain girl while a jaunty massed vocal chorus lends the piece the feel of a 1950s country song. It’s the exception among the ten cuts on offer. “Always Waiting” returns to the theme of “my time is coming soon”set to an intricate piece of guitar picking (a reminder of Kiwakanu’s regard for early Dylan) while “I Won’t Lie” has the singer wondering “what it is that I can’t find”. “Any Day Will Do Fine” is more straightfowardly downcast, a call on God for help, with Kiwanuka’s vocals shifting towards Otis Redding territory. “Rest” evokes another soul great, Al Green, using the kind of crawling pace Green employed on hits like “For The Good Times” – the plea to “rest your head on my shoulder” echoes that song none too subtly - and while Kiwanuka hasn’t Green’s vocal range, he captures sorrow and resignation. The closing “Worry Walks Beside Me” strikes a more defiant note, stretching Kiwakanu to the upper end of his vocal powers but oozing strength. By that time the lack of ups to go with the album’s downs has become apparent, an imbalance addressed in live performance, where the band brings more attack. There will doubtless be more varied shades on future records, but for now, this pensive debut gives notice of a fine new talent. Neil Spencer Q&A MICHAEL KIWANAKU Did you write these songs with orchestration in mind? I always thought of “I Need Your Company’” that way, but I write everything on acoustic guitar. The arrangements came from working with Paul Butler. How did you fit everyone in his small studio? We did it with one violin player and moved him round to sound like a section! It was very spontaneous. That studio has a lot of analogue equipment, and I prefer the sound of valve amps, but we also used Logic– a mix. What of the constant Bill Withers comparisons? I’m starting out, and wear my influences on my sleeve. I listened a lot to Bill and Otis Redding, but more to Shuggie Otis, who’s a fellow guitar player - you can hear the rock and roll influences alongside the soul. You don’t sound as downbeat as the album. Writing anything new? I don’t think of it as downbeat, there’s hope in there too. I’ve written a new one which closes the live set, “Lasan”, named after a Brum curry house. It’s about ho life’s short so live to get the most from it. INTERVIEW: NEIL SPENCER

Earnest, soulful debut from hotly tipped North Londoner…

The BBC’s annual ‘Sound Of’ award has an impressive history of picking the right names for the year ahead. So will Michael Kiwanaku, the Beeb’s choice for “Sound of 2012” likewise go on to sell albums by the lorryload? Probably. Home Again is an arresting, if low key debut, that confirms its creator’s rapid ascent. Last year Kiwanaku, a modest 25 year old from Muswell Hill (of Ugandan parents), was plying his trade as a singer-songwriter in North London pubs. Now he fronts his own band, recently playing to 2,000 people at the Worldwide Awards.

Support slots with Adele and Laura Marling have helped his climb, but much of the work was done by last year’s Tell Me A Tale EP – all three tracks are here – that had him widely likened to the folk-soul sound of yesteryear greats Bill Withers and Terry Callier. The comparisons are not entirely fanciful. Kiwanaku’s gruff, direct vocals are akin to Withers’, while his songs are similarly simple affairs driven by acoustic guitar.

After that the similarities start to fade. Withers was ex-navy when he made it, a seasoned observer of life and love. The ten songs on Home Again are the heartfelt cries of a young man looking for his place in the world, their vulnerability being part of their appeal. Opener “Tell Me A Tale” hits the spot straightaway, with its plea to “turn me around so I can be /everything I was meant to be”. With its washes of strings and dancing flute contrasting to Kiwanaku’s powerful voice, there’s a touch of Van Morrison’s Astral Weeks in play too.

Kiwakanu hands credit to producer Paul Butler of The Bees for the orchestral flourishes that wrap around what were previously spartan songs. Having seen Kiwakanu play, Butler offered him his isle of Wight studio and secured him a record deal.

The mood of world weariness but hoping for better times is the mainspring of Home Again, with most tracks following the same structure, moving from a bare, acoustic opening into orchestration. It’s an effective ploy, though one arguably over-used, and has helped make “I’ll Get Along” and “Home Again”, feel like a familiar classics after a few months of exposure.

Variety arrives in an unlikely shape on “Bones”, the kind of whimsical love call likely to pop up on a Norah Jones album. Kiwanaku drawls and pines for that certain girl while a jaunty massed vocal chorus lends the piece the feel of a 1950s country song. It’s the exception among the ten cuts on offer. “Always Waiting” returns to the theme of “my time is coming soon”set to an intricate piece of guitar picking (a reminder of Kiwakanu’s regard for early Dylan) while “I Won’t Lie” has the singer wondering “what it is that I can’t find”.

“Any Day Will Do Fine” is more straightfowardly downcast, a call on God for help, with Kiwanuka’s vocals shifting towards Otis Redding territory. “Rest” evokes another soul great, Al Green, using the kind of crawling pace Green employed on hits like “For The Good Times” – the plea to “rest your head on my shoulder” echoes that song none too subtly – and while Kiwanuka hasn’t Green’s vocal range, he captures sorrow and resignation.

The closing “Worry Walks Beside Me” strikes a more defiant note, stretching Kiwakanu to the upper end of his vocal powers but oozing strength. By that time the lack of ups to go with the album’s downs has become apparent, an imbalance addressed in live performance, where the band brings more attack. There will doubtless be more varied shades on future records, but for now, this pensive debut gives notice of a fine new talent.

Neil Spencer

Q&A

MICHAEL KIWANAKU

Did you write these songs with orchestration in mind?

I always thought of “I Need Your Company’” that way, but I write everything on acoustic guitar. The arrangements came from working with Paul Butler.

How did you fit everyone in his small studio?

We did it with one violin player and moved him round to sound like a section! It was very spontaneous. That studio has a lot of analogue equipment, and I prefer the sound of valve amps, but we also used Logic– a mix.

What of the constant Bill Withers comparisons?

I’m starting out, and wear my influences on my sleeve. I listened a lot to Bill and Otis Redding, but more to Shuggie Otis, who’s a fellow guitar player – you can hear the rock and roll influences alongside the soul.

You don’t sound as downbeat as the album. Writing anything new?

I don’t think of it as downbeat, there’s hope in there too. I’ve written a new one which closes the live set, “Lasan”, named after a Brum curry house. It’s about ho life’s short so live to get the most from it.

INTERVIEW: NEIL SPENCER

The Beatles’ sons to form band?

0

The sons of The Beatles are set to form a band together, according to reports. In an interview with the BBC, Paul McCartney's son James said he and the rest of the Fab Four's offspring could pay tribute to their dads by creating a second-generation incarnation of the group. James, who has released two EPs titled 'Available Light' and 'Close At Hand', admitted that he had discussed working with Sean Lennon and Dhani Harrison, although it seems as if Ringo Starr's son, Zak Starkey, isn't keen on the idea. When asked if he had ever thought about forming a band with the rest of the Beatles' children, he replied: "I don't think it's something that Zak wants to do. Maybe Jason [drummer and one of Starr's other sons] would want to do it. I'd be up for it. Sean seemed to be into it, Dhani seemed to be into it. I'd be happy to do it." He went on to say that the idea had been mooted "a little bit" and, when pushed on if it could become a reality, answered: "Yeah, hopefully, naturally. I don't know, you'd have to wait and see. The will of God, nature's support, I guess. So yeah, maybe." Last month, Beatles legend Paul McCartney revealed that he and his former bandmates had often discussed reforming the band, but had ultimately decided against it in case they tarnished their legacy. He released his latest solo album, 'Kisses On The Bottom', earlier this year.

The sons of The Beatles are set to form a band together, according to reports.

In an interview with the BBC, Paul McCartney‘s son James said he and the rest of the Fab Four’s offspring could pay tribute to their dads by creating a second-generation incarnation of the group.

James, who has released two EPs titled ‘Available Light’ and ‘Close At Hand’, admitted that he had discussed working with Sean Lennon and Dhani Harrison, although it seems as if Ringo Starr’s son, Zak Starkey, isn’t keen on the idea.

When asked if he had ever thought about forming a band with the rest of the Beatles’ children, he replied: “I don’t think it’s something that Zak wants to do. Maybe Jason [drummer and one of Starr’s other sons] would want to do it. I’d be up for it. Sean seemed to be into it, Dhani seemed to be into it. I’d be happy to do it.”

He went on to say that the idea had been mooted “a little bit” and, when pushed on if it could become a reality, answered: “Yeah, hopefully, naturally. I don’t know, you’d have to wait and see. The will of God, nature’s support, I guess. So yeah, maybe.”

Last month, Beatles legend Paul McCartney revealed that he and his former bandmates had often discussed reforming the band, but had ultimately decided against it in case they tarnished their legacy. He released his latest solo album, ‘Kisses On The Bottom’, earlier this year.

New Rolling Stones bootleg receives official release

0
THE ROLLING STONES have released a new bootleg from their archives, called LA Friday. In fact recorded on Sunday, July 13, 1975 at the Los Angeles Forum, the show took place during the band’s Tour of the Americas, the first Stones tour featuring then-new guitarist, Ronnie Wood. Remastered by Bob...

THE ROLLING STONES have released a new bootleg from their archives, called LA Friday.

In fact recorded on Sunday, July 13, 1975 at the Los Angeles Forum, the show took place during the band’s Tour of the Americas, the first Stones tour featuring then-new guitarist, Ronnie Wood.

Remastered by Bob Clearmountain, the album contains Stones’ classics “Honky Tonk Women”, “Gimme Shelter”, “Angie”, “Jumpin’ Jack Flash” and “Street Fighting Man”.

LA Friday is the third bootleg the Stones have officially released, following on from the Hampton Coliseum show in 1981 and 1973’s legendary Brussels Affair set.

LA Friday is available to buy from www.stonesarchive.com.

The 14th Uncut Playlist Of 2012

After last week’s notable arrival of Neil Young & Crazy Horse’s “Americana”, Playlist 14 is somewhat sketchier. Harder than usual for me to get behind a fair bit of this list, as a consequence – though as you can see, there’s still at least one very interesting new entry… Also, following some digressive talk about drum solos at www.twitter.com/JohnRMulvey yesterday, an amazing track by The Sweet http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ein1HIT7qNI Follow me on Twitter: www.twitter.com/JohnRMulvey

After last week’s notable arrival of Neil Young & Crazy Horse’s “Americana”, Playlist 14 is somewhat sketchier. Harder than usual for me to get behind a fair bit of this list, as a consequence – though as you can see, there’s still at least one very interesting new entry…

Also, following some digressive talk about drum solos at www.twitter.com/JohnRMulvey yesterday, an amazing track by The Sweet

Follow me on Twitter: www.twitter.com/JohnRMulvey

Beastie Boys’ Adam Yauch to release LCD Soundsystem movie

0
Adam Yauch of the Beastie Boys has gained distribution rights to the LCD Soundsystem film, Shut Up And Play The Hits. Watch the trailer at the bottom of the page. Yauch's company Oscilloscope Laboratories, will be releasing the film in North America this summer. According to LCD Soundsystem's Twi...

Adam Yauch of the Beastie Boys has gained distribution rights to the LCD Soundsystem film, Shut Up And Play The Hits. Watch the trailer at the bottom of the page.

Yauch’s company Oscilloscope Laboratories, will be releasing the film in North America this summer. According to LCD Soundsystem‘s Twitter, the movie will be out in the UK later in the year.

The movie documents the last performances of LCD Soundsystem in 2011 at New York’s Madison Square Garden venue. Adam Yauch – pictured right – has said of the film: “Perhaps having grown up in a band for most of my life – a band that formed when I was 16 years old – and having released our first record when I was still in high school, this film addresses so many questions.”

“For instance, it can be pretty clear when a band starts, but perhaps less so when it ends, or how it should end. In that sense, it’s brilliant of James [Murphy] to end it in such a definitive way.”

Shut Up And Play The Hits premiered at the Sundance Film Festival at the start of the year, and was also screened last month at SXSW.

Richard Hawley announces his largest UK show to date

0
Richard Hawley has announced his largest UK headline show to date this autumn. The singer, who releases his new album 'Standing At The Sky's Edge' on May 7, will headline London's O2 Academy Brixton on October 3. 'Standing At The Sky's Edge' is the follow-up to his 2009 effort 'Truelove's Gutte...

Richard Hawley has announced his largest UK headline show to date this autumn.

The singer, who releases his new album ‘Standing At The Sky’s Edge’ on May 7, will headline London’s O2 Academy Brixton on October 3.

‘Standing At The Sky’s Edge’ is the follow-up to his 2009 effort ‘Truelove’s Gutter’ and contains a total of nine tracks.

Speaking about the LP, Hawley said he wanted to make a simpler record and move away from the grander sounds of his previous albums. He said of the album: “I wanted to get away from the orchestration of my previous records and make a live album with two guitars, bass, drums and rocket noises!”

Hawley also recently collaborated with Arctic Monkeys on their new B-side ‘You And I’, scroll down to the bottom of the page and click to watch the video for the track.

Uncut At The Great Escape Festival With Beth Jeans Houghton, EMA, Willy Mason, Hans Chew

0

This year’s Great Escape Festival in Brighton is almost upon us, running from May 10-12 at a 30 venues across the town and featuring somewhere in the region of 300 new artists. As we have for the last couple of years, Uncut will have its own stage at the festival, where we’ll be hosting shows on all three nights at the Pavilion Theatre. We have a particularly strong line-up this year, including EMA, BETH JEANS HOUGHTON, WILLY MASON, TOY and FOREST SWORDS. EMA – better known to her folks back home as Erika M Anderson – made one of my favourite albums of 2011, Past Life Martyred Saints, the best of which hinted at a talent reminiscent of Patti Smith. I’d put money on her blowing the roof off the Pavilion. I’m looking forward to seeing Beth Jeans Houghton just as much, having been recently more than smitten by her debut album, Yours Truly, Cellophane Nose (we had a great track from it, “Dodecahedron”, on our recent Watch That Band free CD). It’ll be good to see Willy Mason back in action, too – it seems an age since he made such an impact with Where The Humans Eat and If The Oceans Get Rough, the second of these two very good albums released as long ago as 2005. He was in apparently splendid form at a recent London show at the Hoxton Bar & Grill, according to friends who saw him there. Toy, meanwhile, have been getting rave write-ups lately and their two singles to date, https://www.uncut.co.uk/blog/wild-mercury-sound/hans-chew-free-download-live-in-williamsburg-etc “Left Myself Behind” and “Motoring”, have been terrific. Some of them used to be in the ill-fated and frankly pretty awful Jo Lean And The Jing Jang Jong, who I seem to recall seeing at Wembley Arena, opening for Babyshambles. Toy fortunately don’t sound anything like them, the noise they make more resembling what my colleague John Robinson has identified as the results of a late-80s/early-90s jam session featuring Stereolab, Pulp and Felt. It’ll be interesting also to find out how Matthew Barnes’ Forest Swords sound live – amazing, I suspect, especially if something like “Hoylake Misst” is given an appropriate airing. Over our three nights at the Pavilion, there’ll also be appearances from Nashville garage girl band THE BLACK BELLES (whose Olivia Jean guests on Jack White’s new album, Blunderbuss), Fuck Buttons spin-off, BLANCK MASS, synth duo SOLAR BEARS and all the way from Brooklyn, fiery piano player HANS CHEW, whose debut album, Tennessee And Other Stories, made him an Uncut office favourite. When John was in New York recently to interview Jack White for this month’s Uncut cover story, he had time to nip over to Brooklyn to see Hans and his current band, The Boys, play at a place called Don Pedro, where they revealed themselves to John as “pretty much the bar band of my dreams”. You can read a full report on the show here - https://www.uncut.co.uk/blog/wild-mercury-sound/hans-chew-free-download-live-in-williamsburg-etc. There are still a couple of acts for the Uncut stage still to be announced, so look out for further details in our next issue or keep an eye on www.uncut.co.uk. For further information go to www.escapegreat.com Have a good week. Allan Beth Jeans Hughton & The Hooves Of Destiny pic: Lottie Gray and Beth Jeans Houghton

This year’s Great Escape Festival in Brighton is almost upon us, running from May 10-12 at a 30 venues across the town and featuring somewhere in the region of 300 new artists.

As we have for the last couple of years, Uncut will have its own stage at the festival, where we’ll be hosting shows on all three nights at the Pavilion Theatre. We have a particularly strong line-up this year, including EMA, BETH JEANS HOUGHTON, WILLY MASON, TOY and FOREST SWORDS.

EMA – better known to her folks back home as Erika M Anderson – made one of my favourite albums of 2011, Past Life Martyred Saints, the best of which hinted at a talent reminiscent of Patti Smith. I’d put money on her blowing the roof off the Pavilion.

I’m looking forward to seeing Beth Jeans Houghton just as much, having been recently more than smitten by her debut album, Yours Truly, Cellophane Nose (we had a great track from it, “Dodecahedron”, on our recent Watch That Band free CD).

It’ll be good to see Willy Mason back in action, too – it seems an age since he made such an impact with Where The Humans Eat and If The Oceans Get Rough, the second of these two very good albums released as long ago as 2005. He was in apparently splendid form at a recent London show at the Hoxton Bar & Grill, according to friends who saw him there.

Toy, meanwhile, have been getting rave write-ups lately and their two singles to date, https://www.uncut.co.uk/blog/wild-mercury-sound/hans-chew-free-download-live-in-williamsburg-etc “Left Myself Behind” and “Motoring”, have been terrific. Some of them used to be in the ill-fated and frankly pretty awful Jo Lean And The Jing Jang Jong, who I seem to recall seeing at Wembley Arena, opening for Babyshambles. Toy fortunately don’t sound anything like them, the noise they make more resembling what my colleague John Robinson has identified as the results of a late-80s/early-90s jam session featuring Stereolab, Pulp and Felt.

It’ll be interesting also to find out how Matthew Barnes’ Forest Swords sound live – amazing, I suspect, especially if something like “Hoylake Misst” is given an appropriate airing. Over our three nights at the Pavilion, there’ll also be appearances from Nashville garage girl band THE BLACK BELLES (whose Olivia Jean guests on Jack White’s new album, Blunderbuss), Fuck Buttons spin-off, BLANCK MASS, synth duo SOLAR BEARS and all the way from Brooklyn, fiery piano player HANS CHEW, whose debut album, Tennessee And Other Stories, made him an Uncut office favourite.

When John was in New York recently to interview Jack White for this month’s Uncut cover story, he had time to nip over to Brooklyn to see Hans and his current band, The Boys, play at a place called Don Pedro, where they revealed themselves to John as “pretty much the bar band of my dreams”. You can read a full report on the show here – https://www.uncut.co.uk/blog/wild-mercury-sound/hans-chew-free-download-live-in-williamsburg-etc.

There are still a couple of acts for the Uncut stage still to be announced, so look out for further details in our next issue or keep an eye on www.uncut.co.uk. For further information go to www.escapegreat.com

Have a good week.

Allan

Beth Jeans Hughton & The Hooves Of Destiny pic: Lottie Gray and Beth Jeans Houghton

First Look – Marley

0

The reggae singer, given the rock doc treatment... We've been spoilt with music documentaries over the last few years. I'm thinking principally about Martin Scorsese's films on Bob Dylan and George Harrison, but also Peter Bogdanovich's documentary on Tom Petty And The Heartbreakers and the BBC's tremendous ... Britannia series. Bob Marley is the latest A lister to receive the documentary treatment from a major league filmmaker is Bob Marley, in this case Oscar winner, Kevin Macdonald. It is a thorough enough trawl through Marley’s life and times, but Macdonald’s film conspicuously lacks any real critical interrogation of its subject. Admittedly, we live in an age where Scorsese’s films have set the bar very high, but Macdonald isn’t exactly a novice documentarian. One Day In September and Touching The Void are both tremendous and, with Being Mick, Macdonald even came close to capturing the essence of a professionally elusive rock star. By comparison, Marley feels quite programmatic; Macdonald doesn’t really stray from telling an already well-documented version of events. The freshest parts of the film find Macdonald’s crew visiting Nine Mile, the small village in the Jamaican hills where Marley was raised. Macdonald truffles out cheery old dudes like Marley’s cousin Hugh “Sledgo” Peart, who offers up an engaging, if rambling snapshot of the young “Robert”, “rejected” because of his mixed race parentage, and having “to earn his every meal.” Other characters come and go – among them Bunny Wailer and Lee Perry. Unsurprisingly for a film exec produced by Marley’s son Ziggy and former label boss Chris Blackwell, Macdonald is granted the very best access to friends, collaborators and family – even a former Jamaican Prime Minister – who all offer fulsome anecdotes and testimonials. The archive footage is as good as you’d expect. But the trajectory is routine and straightforward; Bob “just loved music, cricket and football,” we are told. Well, yes, that’s true enough – but at 144 minutes, Macdonald’s film surely warrants a more robust examination of its subject.

The reggae singer, given the rock doc treatment…

We’ve been spoilt with music documentaries over the last few years. I’m thinking principally about Martin Scorsese‘s films on Bob Dylan and George Harrison, but also Peter Bogdanovich’s documentary on Tom Petty And The Heartbreakers and the BBC’s tremendous … Britannia series.

Bob Marley is the latest A lister to receive the documentary treatment from a major league filmmaker is Bob Marley, in this case Oscar winner, Kevin Macdonald. It is a thorough enough trawl through Marley’s life and times, but Macdonald’s film conspicuously lacks any real critical interrogation of its subject. Admittedly, we live in an age where Scorsese’s films have set the bar very high, but Macdonald isn’t exactly a novice documentarian. One Day In September and Touching The Void are both tremendous and, with Being Mick, Macdonald even came close to capturing the essence of a professionally elusive rock star. By comparison, Marley feels quite programmatic; Macdonald doesn’t really stray from telling an already well-documented version of events.

The freshest parts of the film find Macdonald’s crew visiting Nine Mile, the small village in the Jamaican hills where Marley was raised. Macdonald truffles out cheery old dudes like Marley’s cousin Hugh “Sledgo” Peart, who offers up an engaging, if rambling snapshot of the young “Robert”, “rejected” because of his mixed race parentage, and having “to earn his every meal.” Other characters come and go – among them Bunny Wailer and Lee Perry.

Unsurprisingly for a film exec produced by Marley’s son Ziggy and former label boss Chris Blackwell, Macdonald is granted the very best access to friends, collaborators and family – even a former Jamaican Prime Minister – who all offer fulsome anecdotes and testimonials. The archive footage is as good as you’d expect. But the trajectory is routine and straightforward; Bob “just loved music, cricket and football,” we are told. Well, yes, that’s true enough – but at 144 minutes, Macdonald’s film surely warrants a more robust examination of its subject.

Orbital stream new album ‘Wonky’ in full – listen

0
Orbital are streaming their new studio album 'Wonky' – scroll down to the bottom of the page and click to listen. The album, which is the dance duo's first LP since their 2004 effort 'Blue Album', is out now, but has been made available to listen to online. Orbital have also produced a video tr...

Orbital are streaming their new studio album ‘Wonky’ – scroll down to the bottom of the page and click to listen.

The album, which is the dance duo’s first LP since their 2004 effort ‘Blue Album’, is out now, but has been made available to listen to online. Orbital have also produced a video track-by-track guide to the new LP, in which they explain the process behind the new record, which you can watch by scrolling down to the bottom of the page and clicking.

‘Wonky’ is the pair’s eighth studio LP, and was recorded in Brighton and mixed by Depeche Mode/U2 knob twiddler Flood. It also features collaborations with Zola Jesus and UK MC Lady Leshurr.

Speaking about the title track – the band’s Phil Hartnoll said: “This is one of our key tracks from DJing last summer, one that came out of nowhere. We were so surprised by the reaction to this, it just went down really well. Right at the last minute we got Lady Leshurr to do her vocal, in one of our ‘correction sessions’ for the album, after we had been DJing it. It turned out brilliantly.”

Earlier today, it was revealed that Orbital will headline the Slam Tent at this year’s T In The Park festival on its final night (July 8). The Scottish festival will be headlined by The Stone Roses, Kasabian and Snow Patrol and takes place over the weekend of July 6-8 in Balado Park, Kinross.

Orbital will also tour the UK in support of the album this month, playing six shows. The trek begins at Manchester’s Academy on April 5 and runs until April 10, when the duo headline London’s Royal Albert Hall.

Orbital – Wonky by Mondo_Management

Watch David Lynch’s ‘psychotic’ self-directed video for ‘Crazy Clown Time’

0

Movie director turned musician David Lynch, has premiered the self-directed video for his track, 'Crazy Clown Time'. Scroll down to watch it. The typically off-kilter and disturbing seven minute long video features two topless women, a glamorous blonde in a red satin bra top and a man howling at the skies while another man sets his mohawk hairdo on fire. Lynch, who makes a number of cameos in the video, has said that the backdrop to the promo clip is "intense psychotic backyard craziness, fueled by beer". Speaking about his debut album, also called 'Crazy Clown Time', which was released last year, David Lynch said that there was "a lot of fear involved" in its making. Lynch, the mastermind behind films such as Blue Velvet and Mulholland Drive, told The Guardian that making his own LP had forced him to "overcome a lot of fear and embarrassment". The director said of his music career: "You might get someone else, an actor, to play a role. But then there are some roles where you think: 'I want to be that person. I want to go into that world'. So I wanted to try." He then went on to add: "I wanted to see whether I could nail it, assuming I could overcome a lot of fear and embarrassment and find a safe place to work. But yes, there's a lot of fear involved. It's very fearful." Yeah Yeah Yeahs singer Karen O guested on the 'Crazy Clown Time' album, on a track called 'Pinky's Dream'. A Super Deluxe Edition of 'Crazy Clown Time' was released earlier this year by Sunday Best Recordings http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6QJpY2VNP0E

Movie director turned musician David Lynch, has premiered the self-directed video for his track, ‘Crazy Clown Time’. Scroll down to watch it.

The typically off-kilter and disturbing seven minute long video features two topless women, a glamorous blonde in a red satin bra top and a man howling at the skies while another man sets his mohawk hairdo on fire. Lynch, who makes a number of cameos in the video, has said that the backdrop to the promo clip is “intense psychotic backyard craziness, fueled by beer”.

Speaking about his debut album, also called ‘Crazy Clown Time’, which was released last year, David Lynch said that there was “a lot of fear involved” in its making. Lynch, the mastermind behind films such as Blue Velvet and Mulholland Drive, told The Guardian that making his own LP had forced him to “overcome a lot of fear and embarrassment”.

The director said of his music career: “You might get someone else, an actor, to play a role. But then there are some roles where you think: ‘I want to be that person. I want to go into that world’. So I wanted to try.” He then went on to add: “I wanted to see whether I could nail it, assuming I could overcome a lot of fear and embarrassment and find a safe place to work. But yes, there’s a lot of fear involved. It’s very fearful.”

Yeah Yeah Yeahs singer Karen O guested on the ‘Crazy Clown Time’ album, on a track called ‘Pinky’s Dream’.

A Super Deluxe Edition of ‘Crazy Clown Time’ was released earlier this year by Sunday Best Recordings

The Black Keys’ Dan Auerbach to produce new Hanni El Khatib album

0
The Black Keys' frontman Dan Auerbach is set to produce the new album from Los Angeles based garage rock solo artist Hanni El Khatib. Auerbach will be at the helm of the "'60s garage but without nostalgia" themed follow up to 2011's 'Will the Guns Come Out' - pictured below - after the pair met i...

The Black Keys‘ frontman Dan Auerbach is set to produce the new album from Los Angeles based garage rock solo artist Hanni El Khatib.

Auerbach will be at the helm of the “’60s garage but without nostalgia” themed follow up to 2011’s ‘Will the Guns Come Out’ – pictured below – after the pair met in France. Khatib also designed the logo for Auerbach’s studio.

Speaking to LA Weekly, Khatib says of their meeting: “A friend owns a bar in Paris and introduced us when I was deejaying after a show. He went deep into music and started dropping knowledge about all these obscure LA bands. We ended up going back and forth deejaying all night.”

Auerbach recently collaborated with British soul singer Michael Kiwanuka. The track, which is titled ‘Lasan’, made up the B-side on Kiwanuka’s single ‘I’m Getting Ready’, which features on the singer’s debut album, ‘Home Again’.

Speaking previously about the track, Auerbach said: “It was great – really quick. We went and did it really quick at Ray Davies’ studio. It was nice. Obviously his voice is amazing the songs are cool. The production on that stuff is great too – I like what the guy is doing.”

The Black Keys released their seventh studio album ‘El Camino’ in December last year. Auerbach recently revealed that he and drummer Patrick Carney will be playing UK festivals this summer, but couldn’t reveal which ones as they were “top secret”, and also hinted that they had already begun planning the follow-up to their last LP.