The Silver Jews: 'Lookout Mountain, Lookout Sea'

Giddy-up! The Silver Jews are back with their sixth album – another countrified journey through the twisted, compelling lyrics of David Berman. Unfortunately this time, the music isn’t as strong as the storytelling deserves.

Berman is the only constant member of Nashville band ‘The Joos’. Formed alongside Pavement in the late 80s and sometimes featuring Stephen Malkmus’ fractured guitar (but not here), they’ve specialised in the kind of lo-fi alternative country that can all too easily sneak under the radar. Lyrically at least, this is undeserved. Berman’s way with words is on a par with The Mountain Goat’s John Darnielle – he weaves strange urban tales of the Midwest, aiming to leave you with a snippet of folk wisdom, “…a fable, a proverb or an epigram…”.

So, on ‘My Pillow Is The Threshold’, we get “I take decaf coffee, Two sugars and one cream, I don’t see the use in staying up just to watch TV… Because the pillow that I dream on, is the threshold of a kingdom, is the threshold of a world where I’m with you.”

On 'San Francisco B.C.', we get, in the style of an epic American poem, some great imagery set to a story of love, death, crap jobs and fighting. “Gene took off his hat and I noticed his hair, It was neatly trimmed but a patch was bare, I knew it wasn’t new wave, it was human error.” (NB: works better with a drawl).

Musically, the experience involves listening out for the next killer couplet whilst enduring dull and unmemorable strumming. Sure, there are some sparks of life that appear from time to time. ‘Open Field’ has a sweet organ motif and backing from Berman’s wife Cassie, who also wakes 'Party Barge' up with the hook “send us your co-ordinates, I’ll send a St Bernard”. ‘Strange Victory Strange Defeat’ sounds oddly like British Sea Power stepped into the recording studio half way through, but it isn’t enough to make a complete record.

Released on 9th June 2008 by Drag City.

Operator Please, Water Margin, 16 May 2008

Imagine travelling 10,000 miles from Australia to play one song for smug boogie-woogie man Jools Holland. Imagine that song is only 2.17 seconds long. That’s Operator Please – they may not be climate friendly, but they’re desperate to share the love.

So what does Brighton give them? A good honest bit of C-list venue atmospherics for annual city-based festival The Great Escape, that’s what. Escape? Pah! 250 people crammed into a basement the size of a small wardrobe, not enough room to swing a koala, stage on the floor, intimidating wall of people in your face, sweat dripping from the ceiling...

That’d be enough to send most bands scuttling for the door, but not this lot. Like said koala, Operator Please may look all sweet and innocent, but they can easily rip your face off, and The Water Margin fair gets blown apart. Here to promote ‘Yes Yes Vindictive’ - one of the most exciting indie records so far this year - we get a lesson in thrilling bastard punk pop, like the B-52s in a fight with Arcade Fire and The Gossip in a sardine can.

‘Get What You Want’ kicks things off, followed by ‘Terminal Disease’, and singer/guitarist Amandah Wilkinson immediately hits her stride - Cindy Wilson and Fred Schneider in one small package, a ball of furious energy with a frankly tremendous voice. The rest of the band are precociously talented too, and though sound problems threaten to spoil things for a while, the band refuse to be phased, ripping into Devo’s ‘Whip It’, complete with a co-ordinated dance routine from Amandah and violinist Taylor. ‘Communicate’ is followed by ‘Other Song’, slightly sappy on record but powerful live: “I'm smiling most the time, I smile so that you'll never see the fear”.

A ridiculously euphoric ‘Leave It Alone’ segues into Jools' fave ‘Song About Ping Pong’, and the ceiling just about lifts off. ‘Zero Zero’ completes the night, and the house of full of smiles. Offset your carbon next time, but fly back soon.

The Water Margin, Brighton, 16th May 2008.

John & Jehn: 'John & Jehn'

Eddie Izzard once said that there’s a fine line between cool and uncool. One toothpick in your mouth - cool. Two - uncool. Well, French couple John and Jehn walk that line on their debut... and try so hard to be the former that they mostly end up as the latter.

These two upped and moved to London “…for the music… to put ourselves in danger. At some point we had to say, ‘Let’s go to fuckin’ war’.” Pretentious? Moi? Well, yes - these two are more-arch-than-thou, more-arch-than-me and for that matter just about everyone else.

That would be enough to put you off for good, but there’s more. They choose to make rather a big deal of being boyfriend/girlfriend (shock, horror), good looking (apparently Jehn is ‘mesmerising’, John is ‘chiselled’) and intellectual (they name drop David Shrigley into interviews). But so what if the music’s rubbish, right?

Well, partly right. Imagine The Sugarcubes and Velvet Underground fed through a Casio VL-Tone. J&J both lend vocals that epitomise the Gallic shrug - tuneless spoken word, drawling like a codeine addict, percussive yelps and self-consciously clever lyrics about, for example, how 20L07 stands for “age, love, heaven.” Sometimes all that posturing gets tiring. Sometimes it comes together = like on ‘You, Far Away’, which is particularly reminiscent of the Velvets. On ‘Survive’, you can almost mistake J&J for early Fall covering America’s ‘A Horse With No Name’… which is alright by me.

Elsewhere the monotony is all so cool, so what. Two toothpicks.

Released on 24th April 2008 by Universal.

The Shortwave Set: 'Replica Sun Machine'

‘Replica Sun Machine’ is an album packed with so much talent that it should, by rights, be a total triumph. In fact, it’s like a fake Rolex that dies after a week – shiny on the surface, empty of substance.

The Shortwave Set are the South London trio whose debut LP, 2005’s ‘The Debt Collection’, was highly regarded and deservedly made several ‘best of’ charts. For their much-anticipated follow-up, the Set have recruited some musical heavy weights, with Dangermouse, he of Gnarls Barkley fame and the 'Grey' album mash-up, on production duties. John Cale of the Velvet Underground does ‘violas, synths and atmospheres’. And no less a talent than Van Dyke Parks helps out with the string arrangements. Parks was, of course, the man who collaborated with Brian Wilson on the legendary 'Smile', as well as 'Orange Crate Art' and other records.

So it wouldn’t be unreasonable to expect something astounding from these 11 tracks. Sadly, the album should come with a sticker like the ‘Parental Advisory’ ones – ‘Beware, Cheese Inside’. The Set have aimed at a psychedelic pop adventure, but instead ‘Fake Rolex’, sorry, ‘Replica Sun Machine’ is a nightmare of pointless pastiche.

Opener ‘Harmonia’ is 70s Pink Floyd rather than Krautrock supergroup, while ’Replica’ is the Floyd in the 60s. ‘Yesterdays To Come’ sounds like it was 10th runner up to the ‘Diamonds Are Forever’ theme tune winner. ‘House Of Lies’ is Lennon circa ‘Mind Games’ but, trust me, not as good. ‘Now Til ‘69’ is a nasty surf pop experiment that they can’t even blame on Mr Parks, as he isn’t credited on it. ‘Glitches 'N' Bugs’ is practically in Scissor Sisters territory for gawd’s sake and closer, ‘The Downer Song’ – and I can’t quite believe it – sounds like it samples Stephen Hawking saying “Love one another…now”. My ears, my ears!

How those fine folk at Rough Trade voted this 'album of the month' beats me. Beware replicas.

Released on 12th May 2008 by Wall of Sound.

White Rabbits: 'Fort Nightly'

It's always nice when a new band has obviously been influenced by originators, rather than whatever bandwagon of copyists is riding past. The result is a strong debut from a band of New Yorkers who are trying hard to be themselves.

‘Fort Nightly’ kicks off with ‘Kid On My shoulders’: skiffle beat, piano-led melody, pounding snare and toms, strings, hollow and spiky guitar, soaring harmonies you could sing on the terraces. Um, Arcade Fire, anyone? Vampire Weekend? Well, yes and no – the Rabbits have conjured more recent bands by tutoring their furry ears in the originators, including Band Of Holy Joy, Orange Juice, The Beach Boys, the Apache beats of Bow Wow Wow and The Shadows. With the exception of ‘Cotillion Blues’, an unnecessary diversion into swampy Louisiana blues, it’s a timeless and rounded result.

‘Navy Wives’ does a great impression of Edwyn Collins, with some intelligent lyrics he’d be proud of: “January feels like July, she leaves my scarf long out on the line”. ‘I Used To Complain, Now I Don’t’ and ‘Tourist Trap’ are also particularly Orange Juice-y, with some of Brian Wilson’s patented ‘wood blocks à la reverb’ thrown in for atmosphere. ‘March Of The Camels’ is the best song about building dens ever: “We laid there. Room got smaller. We beg for water, but went for air.” Ska beat, sub bass, clang of piano, and chilling screams recalling The Specials’ ‘Ghost Town’. Brilliant.

These six New Yorkers have created something rather special.

Released on 28th April 2008 by Fierce Panda.

Tindersticks: 'The Hungry Saw'

The Tindersticks release their first studio album for five years – but are they still relevant?

1993 was marked by the release of the Wu Tang’s ’36 Chambers’, Cypress Hill’s ‘Black Sunday’, PJ Harvey’s ‘Rid Of Me’ and the Tindersticks’ epoynymous debut. Alright, it certainly didn’t rank alongside those other greats, but it did mark the start of a long career of a dark and intriguing alternative to hip-hop and vicious indie.

15 years later, the Nottingham-formed Tindersticks return to their original line up. With the front man now resident in rural France, what you get is not far off what you got… alt-country led by Stuart Staples’ deep, and frankly odd, voice. Nick Cave, Leonard Cohen and Kurt Wagner are all reference points.

Maybe it’s the wine and cheese, but this is a disappointing record. It opens with an ‘Intro’ of tinkling ambient pointlessness guaranteed to have you pressing ‘skip’. Unfortunately the first tune proper sees Stuart croon over a backdrop of flimsy flute and organ which even brass on the chorus fails to lift above the mediocre. Next up, ‘The Flicker Of A Little Girl’ is pure cheese – The ‘Sticks covering Pulp covering The Carpenters.

Throughout, the sound is sparse and disjointed, despite Staples, keyboardist David Boulter and guitarist Neil Fraser being augmented by an army of competent session musicians.

On ‘Yesterdays Tomorrows’ Staples’ singing heads into parody, like the Tindersticks done by Vic Reeves’ Club Singer. ‘Mother Dear’ tries spikes of off key guitar, but just sounds like a practice session. Single ‘The Hungry Saw’ cranks up the pace, but despite its evil lover character, refuses to stick in the memory.

Only on ‘All The Love’ do things gel, stripped down and building through guitar, bells, cello, violin and an ethereal female backing vocal. But relevant? Sadly not.

Released on 28th April 2008 by Beggars Banquet.

Colin Meloy: 'Colin Meloy Sings Live!'

If someone called Colin invited you to his campfire for a singsong, would you go? On the strength of this set of live songs from The Decemberists’ singer, you should.

Colin’s been doing solo tours, playing from EPs he gives out at gigs, which are collected here in ‘Colin Meloy Sings Live!’. What Colin wants, he says, in a campfire atmosphere. So you get the pre-song patter, jokes and audience noise as well as the songs, which are exclusively guitar and vocals affairs.

Colin turns out to be quite the comedian, although it’s an audience of sycophants and the three girls who whoop on the first chord of each new tune get a bit tiring after, well, the first whoop. He gets a big laugh by introducing one song as the ‘worst song I’ve ever written’ and introduces his onstage mascots – a sheep, a skull and a ship – as metaphors for life, death and, er, ships. Funny the first time, these interludes will spoil things for repeat listens.

The songs, however, are generally as bitter as the banter is sweet. ‘Here I Dreamt I Was An Architect’ and ‘A Cautionary Song’ are snide joys from The Decemberists’ ‘Castaways And Cutouts’ album. A Shirley Collins (English folk pioneer) cover ’Barbara Allen’ tells of doomed love for a dying man. His vibrato and nasal, twisted way with word endings has a powerful effect on these songs.

A highlight is the trilogy ‘California One / Youth And Beauty Brigade / Ask’, ending with the Smiths' classic. With an open tuning and his voice, these treatments are mesmerising. Just don’t forget the marshmallows.

Released on 7th April 2008 by Rough Trade.

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