SONG OF THE WEEK #80: The Band Of Holy Joy - "When Stars Come Out To Play"

This accordion-driven, circus-like waltz of a song appeared on one of the greatest, most underappreciated albums I've ever heard, More Tales Drom The City (1987, the band's second full-lengbth LP). Grab it when you see it: this is emotional, dark, deeply bizarre stuff.

Album review: JIM NOIR - Jimmy's Show

Highlights: Tea, Sunny, Driving My Escort Cosworth To The Cake Circus

Psychedelic pop. Don’t you absolutely detest the idea of another humourless revivalist act doing it all over again?.. We all do. However, it’s not all that sad, and once in a while a record like Jim Noir’s Jimmy’s Show might actually seem somewhat… refreshing. The album takes its cue from Britain’s whimsical psychedelic pop of the 60’s (how else?), and has unmistakable echoes of bands like Tomorrow and Nirvana (no, not that Nirvana).

All very nice. Decent pop melodies wrapped into stylish psych haze. Plus lots of pretty harmonies, pleasant keyboard grooves, non-threatening guitar solos and, last but not least, chirping of birds. Nothing rip-roaring or garage-y – Jimmy’s Show is very tasteful, stately and reserved. Almost subtle (not least in the instrumental department).

In terms of songs, little strikes me as particularly impressive here – though it’s certainly a very well-written, well-honed collection. Some of the tunes sound like lovely, half-forgotten little clichés (the tune of “Praise For Your Mother”, for instance, just sounds like something you’ve heard too many times already – even if that is not the case), while others do get by thanks to classic melodies (the two harmony-filled delights, “Sunny” and my personal favourite, “Driving My Escort Cosworth To The Cake Circus”, are the standouts).

Overall, a wholly satisfactory, intriguing listen. Not overwhelmingly great, granted, but a very homely, cozy reminder of that awful (I’m using the word affectionately) decade that will never cease producing this sort of nostalgia. Like I say, lovely.

7/10

Album review: CLOCKWORK ORCHESTRA - Friends Without Names

Highlights: The Book That Won’t Be Read, Accident, Mummer

Friends Without Names is the sort of left-field release that gives ‘left-field’ a good name. A clever (maybe too clever) synthpop record that has tested my senses in a way no other 2012 record has. It’s self-consciously edgy, it’s weird and, on occasion, just flat out disturbing. Not that you would mind, of course, for most of these songs are brimming with confidence, clever details and a seemingly endless array of whimsical, bizarre, totally irresistible hooks. Certainly not something you could wrap your head around.  

Clockwork Orchestra is the project of Ireland’s Paul Mangan, and Friends Without Names is his band’s debut. And like a good debut should be – it comes crammed with an absolutely maddening cascade of tricks and ideas. In fact, there’s a danger that one might get scared away by the sheer intensity and, well, oddness of the whole thing (quite frankly, the album is all over the place – albeit in a good way). 

The songs are generally complex, dense, multi-layered things – meticulously produced and featuring a number of different, sometimes completely different, sections. For instance, “Accident” (one of my favourites here) has a brilliant, propulsive synths groove that at some point fades away into a lovely flute part – the effect being both confusing and fascinating. This stuff is quite elaborate instrumentally; synths (often charmingly cheap and deliberately dated) might dominate the sound, but there’s some terrific violin and piano work here, too. Speaking of the latter, I’m particularly fond of the album’s penultimate instrumental track, “Mummer”, which sounds like Erik Satie kicked into the modern age.

It’s not an easy listen, and for all its relative diversity (techno pop, Krautrock, classical piano), your head will explode by track 8 – simply because there’s only so much art-pop whimsy you can take in one gulp. So no, emotionally you won’t connect with this stuff: it’s way too cold and clever for that. Which means that Friends Without Names is that proverbial ‘easy to admire, difficult to love’ album. But at this point in time – admiration is good enough. The verdict being: recommended. This is one rewarding, singular experience.

7/10

SONG OF THE WEEK #79: Frank Zappa - "Camarillo Brillo"

When he allowed himself, Zappa could come up with quite a brilliant, effortless melody. Like the one you can hear on the infectious, Spanish-tinged "Camarillo Brillo" that opens 1973's Overnite Sensation (one of his strongest, most consistent albums from the 70's - just screw that profane and unfunny "Dinah-Moe-Hum" abomination). Terrific, gutsy, rollicking stuff.

Album review: THE FRESH & ONLYS - Long Slow Dance

Highlights: 20 Days And 20 Nights, Presence Of Mind, Dream Girls

This is one of those albums you would rather call well-written than great. It’s not that it lacks an edge (it doesn’t) or memorable hooks (we have them) – it’s the fact that Tim Cohen just doesn’t have the songwriting chops to come up with a truly signature tune. Still, the album has enough taste (oh yes) and smooth, soothing, sophisticated indie pop melodicism to win you over. At some point; if you care to give it a chance.

While Long Slow Dance is essentially a collection of pretty little straightforward pop songs, its impact is not exactly immediate. At first all you feel is unassuming, slow-burning charm; Cohen’s low-key, slightly tortured vocals; lush, non-threatening guitars – but not substance. I guess “20 Days And 20 Nights” is a perfect 3-minute opener, but all that follows just gets away with being, well, nice – in a hazy, Shins-like sort of way. And no, they never reveal themselves to be understated pop classics, but lovely little gems they certainly are. There’s that catchy, delightful vibe of “Dream Girls”, there’s that excellent vocal melody of “Fire Alarm” (that chooses to have the no-not-again riff of “I Can’t Explain” playing in the background).

The album actually gets more adventurous towards the end, but that’s not necessarily something I welcome. “Euphoria” is more complex but also more boring, and the 6-minute trippy epic “Foolish Person” doesn’t really justify its length (the first part is good though).  

I do recommend this album, but with certain reservations. You really have to like your pop music sophisticated and subdued. But the songs are good. Or, to be more precise, good enough. Ah well, just have a look at the cover - will tell you more than any review.

7/10