THIS WEEK’S NEW ALBUMS REVIEWED | FEATURE
Fake It Flowers (Dirty Hit)
Following some fantastic EPs like Space Cadet and Patched Up, Beabadoobee [above] has quickly risen to be one of the most prominent indie-rock artists in the industry. This debut album proves why she’s become such a figurehead and shows an incredibly bright future for the young artist.
There’s an explosive energy coming from every track, be it through the contemplative lyrics about Bea’s own life experiences, or from the heavy guitar and drum use throughout. Bea gracefully tackles subject matters as heavy as self-harm and a history of trust issues whilst producing powerful songs with a rebellious spirit that show the singer’s rock-star aspirations.
Fake It Flowers is the culmination of everything that Bea has been doing in recent years, but fine-tuned to near-perfection. It’s louder, more emotional, more experimental, more reflective and easily Beabadoobee’s best music yet.
words GEORGE FOSTER
Carnivorous (Cherry Red)
Carnivorous – an anagram of Coronavirus, and recorded during the UK’s first period of lockdown – was originally a solo project for Hawkwind’s Dave Brock, and remains a showcase for his talents. Through numerous lineup changes, Brock has been the backbone of this band, and without his genius there’d be no space rock. In this pared-down ensemble, Brock does most of the heavy lifting: lead guitar, keyboards, synths and vocals, with contributions from Magnus Martin (guitar and keyboards) and Richard Chadwick (drums).
This may be musically lighter than previous albums but is in no way deficient. The heavy basslines that are prevalent in so many Hawkwind songs are missing but not missed. Between the instrumental tracks there’s a good dose of rock’n’roll and deadpan lyrics: The Virus, with its hypnotic beat, claims the pandemic was caused by eating meat… There are touching moments here too, such as the Alzheimer’s-related Forgotten Memories – Brock is a master of conveying emotion with electric guitar. Furthermore, 2020 marks the band’s 50th year of space-rocking – happy anniversary, guys.
words LYNDA NASH
Album No.8 (BMG)
Katie Melua’s eighth album was pretty much ready to go in February of this year, but producer and arranger Leo Abrahams thought it would be a good idea to run through things one final time. So Melua sang the songs again in Abraham’s studio; both artist and producer were blown away by the emotion and power of this final take, and this is what we get to hear on Album No.8.
They say that most artists have a run of seven good albums in them. Melua has turned this theory on its head by making her eighth album absolutely extraordinary. Abrahams has brought a timeless George Martin-meets-John Barry quality to the arrangements, with breakup songs Your Longing Is Gone and Airtime just two examples of the quality on show here. One to file alongside the likes of Carole King’s Tapestry or even Joni Mitchell’s Blue.
words DAVID NOBAKHT
La Locura De Machuca – 1975-1980 (Analog Africa)
The wonky charm of the Clangers-meets-Rainbow album cover sets the tone for this compilation of offbeat Colombian Afro-champeta and cumbia. In the 1970s Rafael Machuca, a successful tax lawyer, traded a high-ranking position in the Colombian revenue authority, after trying to find a band to play at a corporate shindig, to touring with Los Hermanos Caraballo and offering them a record deal on the spot, forming the label Discos Machuca. Over six years, he produced and released a wealth of experimental Afro-psychedelia cumbias.
The closest relative to this album is the Brazilian Tropicalia comp over on Soul Jazz, sharing a healthy dose of fuzz, funnies, and futuristic sounds. El Grupo Folclórico’s Tamba, with its relentless beats, supercomputer squiggly effects and rampant enthusiasm, rivals the addictive drive of Bat Macumba, while other standouts are the warped synth groove of El Platano, stoner beats of Samba Negra’s Eberebijara, a double from King Somalie and La Banda Africana’s sensuous Te Clavo La… Mano, like a wigged-out Chakachas.
This is another excellent deep dive into the farther reaches of world music from Analog Africa’s intrepid cratediggers.
words CHRIS SEAL
I Am Aladdin (EOA)
Members of the London Contemporary Orchestra, who have played with various indie luminaries, here connect the dots between Jeff Buckley to Radiohead, bending at Elbow. Smudge starts with some uneasy listening, shards of percussion puncturing the disquiet, distorted electronica and nodding to the experimentalism of Kid A. Pyramids is a companion piece to both Pyramid Song and Jeff Buckley’s Grace, with Sam West’s voice as gymnastic as Jeff, pirouetting atop the atonal violin before dipping briefly into showtunes bombast when “the duke is back in town” triggers a saxophone solo. Northern Soul draws upon Buckley’s Dream Brother, with a simple meandering guitar line building to a jazz-rock fusion. And Let Them Glow is a cosy fingerpicked guitar piece, with violin and cello crescendos and Hannah Read providing some spectral harmonies.
This would have been a solid four-star album but for Arsenik, which almost poisons the whole set with lumpy blue-eyed funk and jazz fusion, plus the Millwall-sampling PUKI, with some hamfisted guitar hooliganism too. Millennials is much better, however, with luscious soaring strings and the lyrics “We are millennials / We are blinding not broken / Stop your sneering … hysterical, ecumenical.” A term, surely, that many of us associate most with Father Ted.
So not quite a religious experience on Yllwshrk’s debut album, but one which does divine some higher power with a bit of wit.
words CHRIS SEAL