What’s that? Away for a month? No idea what you’re talking about.

There are a few albums and artists thrown roughly into the ‘alternative rock’ genre that don’t really belong there, mostly because nobody knows exactly what to do with them. Case in point: Citizen Cope. Is his work soulful? Folksy? Some beautiful crossbreed of the two? Is there enough rock to call it alternative rock? Is there any rock at all? Really, it doesn’t matter. The important thing is that his work – The Clarence Greenwood Recordings for the purpose of this review, though also just generally – is amazing.

The album is a wonder and a joy to listen to from start to end simply because it so eagerly embraces an infectious element of soul: flow. It’s got rhythm. Every beat and note feels like the liquid smooth successor of the one before it, perfectly placed so that everything just has this gorgeous groove to it. You can feel this smoothness on songs such as ‘Son’s gonna rise’, which is just endlessly listenable. Seriously, give it a shot:

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

The point is, he knows his craft well. He fuses multiple genres in a masterful way, creating something that’s in turn both enjoyably listenable and, at times, quite thought provoking. It’s emotional, artistic, articulate. It helps that his lyrics are beautifully imaginative and fit the feel of his music exceptionally well.

The only point I would raise as a negative against his work is that, whilst the first half starts off with spectacle and power, the latter half seems oddly more subdued in comparison: that’s not to say the tracks are weak or bad, just that they don’t always seem to measure up to the high standards he sets himself at the opening. They are deeper works emotionally, but they occasionally sacrifice the infectiousness of his earlier tracks. After the beautifully accomplished opening medley and touching genius of ‘sideways’, it’s hard not to get the impression that he showed his hand too early.

That shouldn’t take away from what’s been accomplished here, however. The album is clearly a testament to musical and lyrical creativity, showing imagination, genius, and (most importantly) soul at every turn. He wears his heart on his sleeves and produces a work that flows effortlessly and can be listened to multiple times without ever becoming tiresome. Genuinely worth owning, or at least hearing.

9/10

“Supercollider; dust in a moment. Particles scatter, coming out from the soup…
Swimming upstream before the heavens crack open. Thin pixelations coming up from the dust…”

Do we call these b-sides to The King of Limbs? I don’t care, I love them regardless. Reviews returning from tomorrow evening onwards, please excuse the delay…

May 16th alright with you? I’ll listen to it then ;) I am now going to hi-jack this question for an apology post.

You may have noticed this blog has gone to the dogs over the weekend. My excuse: I’ve been busy D; Apologies to everyone about this. College work, laziness, no way around it. Massive holiday coming up at the end of next week, so expect me to catch up on all the reviews around then. I will post more this week, worry not my faithful followers. But yeah, sorry.

“There’s a limit to your love… there’s a limit to your care…”

Interesting, sort of quasi-dubstep track. Not sure if Blake deserves the acclaim yet, but there were some stand out tracks like the above. 

Ballads. Ballads everywhere. Counting Crows marked their debut with a surprisingly tight and impressive affair, featuring top notch vocals and well composed hooks. The issue for me is, where was the variety? True, there seems to be some changes in musical dynamic as the album progresses, but it ultimately seems to be a heap of ballads and little else besides… there’s a lack fresh ideas when they are most needed. Yet this isn’t quite as great an issue as I make it out to be. It’s complicated.

The band basically seems to have all the musical elements in place. We see soothing vocals from lead man Duritz, who brings the tracks to life with his haunting voice. He has a talent for singing ballads, which is lucky given the songs on the album, but that can wait. The combination of a lonely guitar line with these vocals is pure and refreshing: these elements are often melded with other instruments, such as the accordion, to give the pieces energy and briskness. Musically, there is some diversity in the dynamics of the tracks, and they as a band had a great combination of talents at this point. They produced quality pieces.

But yes, the music is a little limited in its scope. The tracks themselves are often extremely impressive to listen to and remain engaging for a while, especially when you listen to then detached from the whole. However, what you soon realise when listening to the album straight through is that there simply isn’t enough variety. Duritz sings ballads very well, as I said, but it’d be nice to hear him try something other than ballads on this debut. Too rarely do we see this happen. It just feels occasionally a little weaker than it should.

Because this is not a bad album, and it’s not technically safe. The album genuinely has a lot of impressive material created by talented musicians, and it shows. However, there are times when I feel that the songs are simply a little too samey to be ignored. Duritz’ vocals may be fitting and pleasant to listen to, but I’d like to see him stretched just a little further than he has been on this album. The same goes for the entire band. I just get the feeling there was something more they could have given, a few new directions that they could have taken with this debut – because let’s make no mistakes, the band had the talent and energy to do this. Good material, but not quite as striking as I’d hoped.

7/10

“Want you to get up and make it work; so many allies, so many allies, so feel the love come off of them and take me in your arms.”

It’s rare for an album to have a lasting, powerful emotional effect upon listeners. Certainly, much of music is an exploration of feeling, and many albums have the power to change the emotions of the listener, but few are profound and touching enough to leave a great emotional impression. ‘Electroshock blues’ is one of those few albums. The contextual setting of this piece – written following the suicide of band leader Mark Everett’s sister, and the terminal lung cancer of his mother, leaving him the only surviving member of his family – already speaks volumes for the depth of feeling that is portrayed here. The magic, though, is not in cynically laying bare a man’s grief: it is how this grief has been transformed into a dignified, musical release of suffering for E, that explores the grief of the living and the lives of the dead, whilst quietly raging against the injustice of death. Depressing isn’t the right word, because that implies a negative. Whilst it’s certainly sad, it’s also unbelievably beautiful

The exploration of Everett’s emotions is exhausting. We begin with ‘Elizabeth of the Bathroom Floor’ (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eS2ipWNm9Fw), which offers a stark comment on his sister’s death from her perspective. From here, the album rarely ceases in its exploration of dark, painful feelings. We see his thoughts on his sister’s funeral; his own descent into madness (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-1TqcnQv0Xc&feature=related); the loss of his mother; a sense of loss emanates from every area. Ultimately, it ends on a positive note of sorts, remembering times he had spent with his family and realising that ‘maybe it’s time to live’.

It all comes together so beautifully because of Everett’s unassuming approach which is utterly devoid of any pretence: this is literally him putting his emotion into song. The music and lyrics are often simplistic in comparison to the deep and complex themes being discussed, yet in many ways this works perfectly: the soft simplicity of the music, varying from standard blues structured songs to light rock, acts as a counterbalance to the depth of the emotional exploration. The best example of this is the beautifully uncomplicated ‘3 speed’ (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Uo-YoAIoSdY). The contrast of the delicate guitar line and the powerful themes is simply gorgeous. It’s an astonishing achievement on all levels.

If you have yet to listen to this album, I fully recommend you do so at the nearest opportunity. Yes, it is a melancholy album, yet it is also an essential piece of artwork that portrays the aching suffering that every human being feels at some point throughout their life: loss. It’s so perennially relevant, so emotionally charged yet delicately beautiful in its approach, so wide and varied in its exploration of feeling, that it can be nothing other than a timeless masterpiece.

10/10 

“We lay on the bed there, kissing just for practice. Could we please be objective? Cause the other boys are queuing up behind us…”

Folktronica is something that sounds so strange and out there when you first hear of it that you naturally assume it’s not going to work. Yet surprisingly often it’s a beautiful marriage of sounds and sensations. Such is the case with Tunng’s sophomore effort, ‘Comment of the Inner Chorus’. The elements of folk music and electronic sounds are fused with skill and excellence to create a piece that is touching, vibrant and emotionally affecting.

The first thing I noticed about the album – especially from the first half – is the beautiful minimalistic feel to the music. The band takes a relatively blank canvas of simple acoustic guitars, paints a striking soundscape through the addition of electronic distortions, fitting vocals and careful editing, then garnishes them with carefully selected bells and whistles. It’s a winning combination that creates airy, breathing tracks that feel organic and sound beautiful. You feel the track grow as it progresses, and the album takes you on this gorgeous acoustic journey. My only slight criticism would be that the tracks too rarely feel as connected as they should: the album feels as if it should flow, rise and wane, yet too often tracks just stop abruptly and jolt me out of the experience briefly. It’s nothing major at all, just a tiny niggle.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1CMStzPSidM

The genius of this album, though, comes from the way in which the beautiful, almost pastoral feel of the music disguises a far darker, more unsettling narrative. The sweet sounding ‘Jenny again’ provides the perfect example. The conceit of the song, in stark contrast to the delicate feel of the music, is that of a dying man considering the love life of his murderer. It’s dark, yet it is pulled off with such skill and grace that it works perfectly. You believe; you feel; you empathise. The darkness is there, and you must embrace it, yet the softness of the music can wash it away in an instant. It’s a brilliant combination, as is the melding of folk and electronic elements in a restrained, measured way. The album is a fine achievement that deserves your attention.

9/10

“That deaf, dumb and blind kid sure plays a mean pinball…”