Album review: MAGAZINE - No Thyself

Highlights: Do The Meaning, Hello Mister Curtis (With Apologies), Of Course Howard (1979), The Burden Of A Song

Fortunately, with No Thyself, Magazine’s first album in 3 (!) decades, Howard Devoto is back to his peculiar, inventive best. It’s still Kafka after all these years. I wouldn’t say the album is quite on par with the band’s classic debut from 1978 (Real Life - one of my favourite albums ever), but it is certainly better than Magic, Murder, And The Weather.

Adventurous arrangements, off-kilter melodies, unlikely hooks, pretentious lyrics, paranoid atmosphere and Devoto’s edgy vocals (he sounds like a neurotic version of Bryan Ferry) make No Thyself everything a Magazine fan could ever wish. Speaking of the lyrics, you’ve got to admit: it’s not too often that you encounter lyrics as disturbing as the ones you hear in the funky single “Hello Mister Curtis” (‘Hello Mr Curtis, hello Mr Cobain; you are so much braver than me; so do it again, so do it again, so do it again…’. Huh?..). I guess there are parts here one could consider catchy (i.e. the chorus of “The Burden Of A Song”), but overall it’s way too artsy and atmospheric to be bothered about something as earthy and obvious as that. Still, Devoto has always known how to make artsiness appealing (his specialty): there is a seemingly endless supply of hooks that are as creative as they are bizarre.

Take a song like “Of Course Howard”. Explaining its appeal would be pointless and would likely cause a bad headache, but this might be the biggest thing about No Thyself  (and, indeed, Magazine): it gives you sensations you won’t get anywhere else. Dark, claustrophobic – yes, but, much like a Kafka book, incredibly powerful and oddly cathartic.

8/10

Album review: THE STRANGE BOYS - Live Music

Highlights: Me And You, Punk’s Pajamas, Hidden Meanings

If things like indie-rock and indie-folk  seem barely enough, how about such novelties as indie-blues and indie-country (not to be confused with alt.country)? I do of course realise that those kinds of ‘genres’ might seem somewhat far-fetched, but this is my only chance of pigeonholing whatever it is that The Strange Boys are doing here.

My knowledge of the band is pretty scarce. The Strange Boys are a Texas-based garage rock band that specializes in a particularly slapdash, ramshackle take on the 60’s. And, as far as I can gather, Live Music is their most settled down, mellow affair so far. It’s still fairly all over the place, and you can feel that they don’t take themselves too seriously, but it’s precisely those things that make this music so charming. The melodies are lovely, whimsical and relatively easy on the ear, but it’s the vocals issue that has to be addressed here. The vocalist of The Strange Boys sounds like a particularly whiny, bleating version of Pete Doherty. Apparently there are lots of less promising descriptions, but you’d really have to be a fan of this kind of stuff to get through to track 14 in one listen with no headache, curse words or at least some distant feeling of annoyance. The piano-based, classic-sounding opener, “Me And You”, has the best tune, but I absolutely adore the brief and bluesy “Right Before”, the catchy and upbeat “Punk’s Pajamas”. Though admittedly some of their music comes off terribly muffled and inarticulate – particularly slower songs like “You And Me” and “Saddest”.  

You can hear they are having fun, and as long as they are not too self-indulgent, why complain? Occasionally Live Music sounds half-baked. Occasionally it seems like the whole thing is on the verge of falling apart. But it never really does fall apart, and for all its hit-and-miss nature, you do feel intrigued and rewarded. Not the highest of sevens, but I can see no other rating here.

7/10

SONG OF THE WEEK #35: Whipping Boy - "When We Were Young"

Whipping Boy, one of Ireland's all-time best, have already appeared on these pages (in my Best Irish Albums feature). But they so clearly deserve a song of the week, too. "When We Were Young" is taken from their undisputed masterpiece, Heartworm (1995), an album of such craft and emotional power that it can almost leave cuts, scars and bruises. Musically, the song itself is an intense, anthemic rocker that U2 could never even dream of. Lyrically, this is pretty much untouchable. One of the best, most hard-hitting songs ever written about youth. "Nobody had a past that catches up on you..." And don't even get me started on that last verse.  

Album review: TOM WAITS - Bad As Me

Highlights: Pay Me, Bad As Me, Last Leaf, Hell Broke Luce, New Year’s Eve

There’s something both comforting and disconcerting about the fact that there are artists who reach this certain level where it doesn’t really matter anymore what anyone thinks about them or their art. There’s a default understanding that Tom Waits is a national treasure, this idiosyncratic genius, this oddball troubadour – so who fucking cares? 5 out 5 and 10 out of 10, next please. While it is inevitable, and Tom Waits has no doubt deserved all this blind admiration, it has a tendency to have a disruptive influence on one’s art.

Bad As Me is one of Waits’ smoothest, most polished albums ever. It’s still pretty rough, of course, musically, lyrically and vocally, but in terms of adventurousness and nerve the production is at its slickest. With his influences (Captain Beefheart, William Burroughs, Harry Partch) and his unfading charisma, he is of course in no danger of losing his edge any time soon, but there might be some signs of settling down in songs as unexceptionally good as “Chicago” or, say, “Back In The Crowd”. But when Tom Waits hits it, he can still hit it pretty hard: the uproaring, thunderous numbers like “Bad As Me” and especially the evocative anti-war screamer “Hell Broke Luce” are as gutsy and colourful as anything on Real Gone. The diversity of instrumentation is pretty wild, but for me Tom is at his most effective here when backed by guitar and accordion on the chillingly melodic and gloriously sad “Pay Me” that should take its rightful place among such Waits classics as “In The Neighborhood” and “Cold Cold Ground”.   

Also, however beautiful “New Year’s Eve” is, “Last Leaf” should have been the last song here. Lyrically, this bare-bones anthemic ballad finds Waits at his most personal and emotional. ‘Last leaf’ he truly is, even though he shouldn’t really think about it too much. He probably won't, and Bad As Me is still a terrific record, one of the year’s most compelling listens – even if there’s a feeling that Tom Waits isn’t quite bad enough here.

8/10

Album review: SOUTHERN TENANT FOLK UNION - Pencaitland

Highlights: If You’ve Got The Heart, The Rights And Interests Of The Labouring Man, Labour Season

While I have nothing against modern folk artists like Laura Marling or Mumford & Sons, their music seems too compromised, too hipped-up, too safe and polished. Folk should come with a little more roughness and edge. That is why I’m more drawn to people like Mary Hampton (whose newest, Folly, is well worth checking out) and Johnny Flynn (mostly his terrific first album, A Larum). Southern Tenant Folk Union seem to work for me, too, with their addictive, authentic take on bluegrass and pub music that so expertly combines raggedness and beauty.

Southern Tenant Folk Union come from Edinburgh, and they’ve been around for some time now – the inconspicuously released Pencaitland happens to be the band’s fourth LP. On the face of it, there’s little here that distinguishes them from hundreds of others playing this kind of music: same mandolins, same fiddles and same obligatory but not overly exciting instrumentals. But the level of songwriting is, while not particularly outstanding, high enough. The songs I singled out (see highlights above) are all stellar, gutsy folk compositions – with the lazy, memorable “Labour Season” being my personal favourite. Plus, they do a fine upbeat interpretation of a Yeats poem, “An Irish Airman Foresees His Death”. The Waterboys they are not, obviously, but a good, healthy dose of literacy surely won’t hurt.

Sure, bands like this can only reveal their full power and glory in a live performance, but Pencaitland still has enough energy and tunes to warrant an engaging, rewarding listen. A fairly straightforward, but superior folk album.

7/10