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Not just a song, but fifteen of the most ambitious and complex compositions of the decade, all bundled together in one surprisingly cohesive whole. I’m talking about of Montreal’s sensational Skeletal Lamping, of course, and the fact that I simply can’t get enough of it at the moment – and that it gets better with each and every listen – has prompted me to post about its genius.
This is going to get a mixed reception because of the ‘R’ rated lyrics and the schizophrenic nature of the songs themselves. People are clearly going to suggest Barnes has stepped over into the world of self-indulgence, but spend some serious time with this record and I can absolutely guarantee it will work its way into your head. You might even find yourself absent-mindedly wandering round the office singing “we can do it softcore if you want, but you should know that I go both ways”. I know I did. And with the gorgeous strains of Skeletal Lamping ringing in my ears, I didn’t care one bit.
Originally published on No Ripcord on 30 September, this is the third edition of my “A Question Of Sound” column.
. . .
A lot has been written about the impact of social networking sites on emerging artists. In fact, the subject quickly became something of a cliché for bloggers and professional journalists, each clambering to tell their tale of how band x notched up y friends and translated this virtual hype into z sales. I recall a strange phase 12 to 18 months ago when publicists were actually quoting friend numbers. This, mercifully, has subsided and the whole thing seems to have become, well, kind of expected. So your band has 1,291 MySpace friends and a thriving Facebook fan page? Join the club.
In August, though, I heard through a friend of a band that had landed a festival appearance near Düsseldorf courtesy of a chance MySpace encounter. I started thinking the unthinkable: maybe social networking isn’t a complete waste of time. Maybe that latest friend request could lead to a creative meeting of minds. Or maybe not. I’ll leave you to chew on that while I recount the story of Circus Animals’ Desertion’s German début.
In order to explain how the four members of Circus Animals’ Desertion, a dream-pop outfit from Greater Manchester, found themselves in north western Germany, it is necessary to introduce another band. Formed in the mid-eighties in Nordrhein-Westfalen, Germany, RX Only has been playing locally, releasing singles on its own Subdued Sounds label, and organising summer RX Only live parties for a number of years.
This year, however, the band decided to do things a little differently. Multi-instrumentalist Tom Christen explains:
“As we all now are 40 plus, my mates all seem to have lost their motivation and creativity. We were regularly meeting as a band, but mostly we played silly computer games, so I had the idea of organizing a ‘RX Only Party’ without RX Only, just to see, if my folks would get ‘hot’ again.”
When it came to organising the show, which would eventually feature three headline acts on an outdoor stage, MySpace played a key role. Leipzig’s Lipstix, all all-girl power-pop quartet, was recommended by a friend, although the arrangements were subsequently made through the social networking site. RX Only stumbled upon Düsseldorf-based Derby during a MySpace search for local bands, and it was in a similar fashion that Tom Christen discovered Circus Animals’ Desertion.
“When I started looking for “friends” on MySpace I concentrated on Manchester, especially on the Chameleons, as our band’s main common influence is the Chameleons. Circus Animals’ Desertion were on my friend-list for a while and one fine day I saw the ad for a Club Chameleon show at The Star and the Garter, a gig that had to be cancelled ironically, and I wrote to Peter (the band’s bassist) about my weird idea… ‘Dreams never end’ I called the first message.”
For the Circus Animals themselves, it was something of a surprise. “The furthest we’d played from Manchester was Ashton-under-Lyne,” laughs Peter. “But as soon as I told Ste (vocalist/guitarist), Chris (guitarist) and Jon (drums) about it, we were all very excited by the idea.”
Using MySpace as a communication platform, the details were finalised, the flights booked, and one day in late August, Circus Animals’ Desertion boarded a low-cost flight for Düsseldorf. As EU citizens, there were no logistical/legal problems with regard to the show, and RX Only sorted out the accommodation, airport transfers and pre- and post-gig entertainment. What could go wrong?
Aside from the weather – relentless rain, which probably followed the Salford-based band over the channel – nothing, it seems. Circus Animals’ Desertion played one of their strongest ever sets to a crowd of interested German music fans who, judging by the audible cheers on the soundboard bootleg, had a great time.
“It was unusual to play to a such an enthusiastic crowd,” admits Peter. “In England, people tend to be more reserved to new bands, as if approval is needed to show interest. In Düsseldorf, people were shouting for more until after 75 minutes, we had no more songs to play. And this was after even the worst run through of Boy’s Don’t Cry you’ll ever hear.”
The band also sold a healthy number of copies of its début album after the show, which seems to confirm the success story. And just as Tom Christen had hoped, the positive experience also seems to have energised the career of RX Only. The band celebrates its 25th anniversary in 2009 and plans to release its own début album, a decision which Tom admits “was very much influenced by the CAD record, which impressed us.”
Plans are already being made for an RX Only/Circus Animals’ Desertion double header in Manchester in April 2009 – a second leg, if you like. Whether this happens or not, and something tells me it will, RX Only and Circus Animals’ Desertion have collectively restored my faith in the powers of social networking to do good.
“We’ve shied away from using MySpace as many others do, to a large degree,” admits Peter. “We don’t go around trying to add 20 people a day as ‘friends’. What’s the point? Are they really going to be interested in our music? But in this instance, it’s been a really useful tool in connecting with like-minded people to do something productive and worthwhile.”
If more bands can find a way to use these sites creatively, in a personal and friendly manner, then the world will certainly be a better and far more interesting place. A parting message to all the artists reading this: please, please bear this in mind the next time you even think of artificially inflating your friend numbers. It is after all, the quality of your friendships, not the quantity, that makes the difference in the end.
Those all-important MySpace URLs:
* http://www.myspace.com/circusanimalsdesertion
* http://www.myspace.com/subduedsounds
Nowadays it seems that turning out an album every 18 months or so is enough for some lazy music writer to label you ‘prolific’. Jay Reatard is different: a cursory glance at the partial discography on his Wikipedia page confirms that his work-rate justifies the tag. With the Reatards, Lost Sounds, a whole host of other bands and side projects, and now as a solo artist, Jay Reatard has released around thirty singles in the last five years. Kevin Shields he most certainly is not.
Matador Singles 08 is, as the name suggests, a compilation of Reatard’s six 7” releases of 2008. This is necessary for two key reasons:
1) The 7 inches were released in increasingly limited runs, a fact reflected by the sums of money they’re changing hands for on eBay. Ok, you can buy the digital versions on the Matador site, but if you want a physical copy of these songs this release is the only way forward.
2) Without exception, these tracks are simply mindblowing.
The tracks are arranged chronologically and the only missing track is the Deerhunter version of Reatard’s Oh, It’s Such A Shame (from the Fluorescent Grey split 7”), which makes sense in a way because, well, it’s not Jay Reatard. To compensate, the comp includes the bonus track I’m Watching You.
The fun begins with See/Saw, the electrifying garage-punk blast that kickstarted the 7” series all those months ago. Backed by another propulsive guitar riff, Screaming Hand tells the (autobiographical?) tale of the relationship between a father, his son and the bottle. As the memorable, frantic refrain of “you were my hero” merges into a rumbling chorus of “no, no, no, no…” the unresolved tension is actually palpable. Jay Reatard certainly packs a lot onto one seven inch.
The next four tracks maintaining the impeccably high standards, but the real pay-off arrives with Reatard’s cover of Deerhunter’s Fluorescent Grey. While I’m not much of a Bradford Cox fan, this track really stood out for me last year (even though I only awarded its parent EP a middling six) and, remarkably, Jay Reatard seems to have recorded an even better version. Deerhunter’s original owed its haunting atmosphere to the atmospheric studio swirl of effect-laden guitars; Reatard plays it straight – this almost sounds like a live, one take recording – yet he loses nothing. Indeed, his ghostly vocal and the slightly higher tempo only serve to heighten the song’s effect.
Of course, the concept of an artist releasing six 7” singles in six months isn’t quite as revolutionary as some have suggested, but a willingness to go against the grain and do things a little differently is one’s of Jay Reatard’s obvious charms. In interviews I’ve heard him talk fondly of the freedom of the seven inch format, in particular the way it allows him to record what he wants to at the time, without having to worry about how various songs will sit together thematically. He certainly doesn’t need to worry about this compilation: Matador Singles 08 succeeds as an album because songs of this calibre will always sound great together.
Album review published on NORIPCORD.COM
No Ripcord Slams TV On The Radio’s Dear Science
October 18, 2008 in Comment, Music | Tags: Dear Science, No Ripcord, review, TV On The Radio | Leave a comment
Earlier this week, No Ripcord published a less than glowing review of TV On The Radio’s otherwise acclaimed Dear Science album. Of the 36 reviews on Metacritic, it’s one of only three that awarded the record less than 7/10 (or equivalent). At the other end of the spectrum, five publications felt it deserved a perfect 10.
I’ve always had an odd relationship with TV On The Radio. I appreciate the band’s talent, but I seldom feel an urge to listen to their records. When No Ripcord named Return to Cookie Mountain the #1 album of 2006, I genuinely agreed that it was a deserving choice. For some reason, though, I haven’t listened to it since.
I can imagine readers thinking our review is part of some new anti-TVOTR agenda, but the truth is far less interesting: Alan wanted to review Dear Science because he enjoyed Cookie Mountain so much but he just didn’t find it particularly interesting. I know some of staff disagree with his words – indeed the record may well find itself sitting high on our end of year list – but I appreciate the honesty and thought that’s gone into his review. After all, isn’t arriving at an opinion and expressing it articulately what music criticism is all about?