THIS WEEK’S NEW ALBUMS REVIEWED | FEATURE
Power Up (Columbia)
If anyone had been in a position to offer frank words to AC/DC in the last six years, those might have been to the effect of: fellas, you’ve had a good run, it’s OK to call it quits if you want. A suggestion which would have likely been taken as a grievous insult, no matter how good the faith. That period, since the release of their last album (2014’s Rock Or Bust), has seen the death of one member, guitarist Malcolm Young; the retirement of two others – singer Brian Johnson, with chronic hearing issues, and bassist Cliff Williams – and the arrest of drummer Phil Rudd in New Zealand, the albeit dropped charge of attempting to hire a hitman adding a fresh wrinkle to the notion of stereotypical aging rocker behaviour. All living members have returned to the fold for the 12-song Power Up, joining sole AC/DC perennial Angus Young. One can only assume they really wanted to do this.
One caveat to this album’s gestation is that it consists largely of songs written around the time of 2008’s Black Ice, and discarded until now. If anything, this information shines a light on how brutally efficient AC/DC are as songwriters, as the mean quality is pretty much on par with Black Ice. Brendan O’Brien produces in his customary fashion; Malcolm’s seat is ably filled by Stevie Young, his nephew, and really it’s only Johnson whose performance has a question mark hanging over it. Before Power Up starts, anyway: age 73, and able to hear himself sing again thanks to some bonkers-sounding medical science, a slight uptick in crow-like rustiness works just swell.
So we get a couple of superfluous drivetime rawk solos (Realize, Systems Down); a couple that lean more heavily than normal on their blues influences (Kick You When You’re Down, No Man’s Land); a slow, Stonesy shaker (Wild Reputation), a couple of contenders for the “here’s one off our latest record” slot if they ever get to play live again (Shot In The Dark, a title it feels implausible the group have never used before, and Witch’s Spell); a slightly bizarre rockabilly type number, Demon Fire; and Money Shot, aka that moment everyone loves where AC/DC strive for a double entendre but manfully fail to progress past single.
words NOEL GARDNER
Buddies II: Still Buddies (Xtra Mile)
Ten years after fan favourite Buddies was released by muso mates Turner and Snodgrass, the pair are back, with a little help from their friends. This decade’s twist: the ‘write and record 10 songs in a day’ format has, inevitably, moved online. At its best, Buddies II: Still Buddies is charming and witty. Turner’s biggest contribution, The Fleas, is an excellent rumination on the Earth shrugging off the human race with all the casual disregard our parasitic presence deserves. But it’s all delivered with a homespun, boys-on-the-back-porch feel that undercuts the acidity.
Where the project falls down is on the self-indulgent podcast side. Tracks are given conversational intros from the pair, which are refreshingly un-slick, but there’s a little too much winking at the audience for my liking. Snodgrass’ voice is excellent as ever, but his songs would stand up without the comedy voiceovers from Turner. Although I found it all a bit annoying, one thing that is captured by the warts-and-all editing is the relaxed banter of two musicians collaborating just as they would on stage – something sorely missing from all our lives this last eight months.
Definitely one for the fans then, who may find the addition of Stephen Egerton (drums) and Tom Beene (pedal steel) welcome for the excellent musicianship they bring. Bonus news: Buddies III: Buddies At Sea has been confirmed for 2030. What’s another 10 years between friends?
words JOHN-PAUL DAVIES
Strange Lights Over Garth Mountain (Tompkins Square)
Some records are so of the moment; others seem totally out of time. Gwenifer Raymond’s [pictured – credit Jinnwoo] mesmeric second LP falls firmly into the second camp. Her phenomenally intricate Americana, which has found a natural home on a US label that specialises in archival releases, is the authentic sound of the Deep South – even though she’s a resident of the Deep South of England (Brighton).
Raymond’s blend of porch folk and backwoods blues is shrouded in mystery and full of foreboding. Hell For Certain is possessed with a punk rock spirit and showcases her exceptional playing, while Gwaed Am Gwaed and Eulogy For Dead French Composer are freighted with incredible tension. One can only dream of the tales someone like Marissa Nadler could tell over the top of these instrumentals.
Strange Lights Over Garth Mountain was created in splendid isolation and appropriately enough makes you want to lock the door, close the curtains, huddle round the fire and shut out the outside world until the storm blows over. Perhaps it isn’t so out of time after all.
words BEN WOOLHEAD
The Edge of Everything (Crosstown Rebels)
The Edge Of Everything is Bristolian drum’n’bass maverick Krust’s first album in 14 years. Think back to 1997, when Roni Size and Reprazent were throwing jazz into the d’n’b cauldron – yet outside of Reprazent, Krust’s own musical adventures have been edgier, darker and more industrial-sounding, like the bassbin-busting Warhead that brutalised dancefloors and ransacked your eardrums at the same time.
This is a thrilling return which proves that Krust is still ahead of the pack – and at the same time very much a game changer. Fusing dark, harsh drum’n’bass breaks with the richness of Eno-like cinematic soundscapes and the minimal, menacing bleakness of John Carpenter, without ever sounding contrived, Negative Returns and Constructive Ambiguity are just two outstanding examples on what is a sophisticated and pioneering electronic soundtrack for these uncertain times.
words DAVID NOBAKHT
PHIL CAMPBELL & THE BASTARD SONS
We’re The Bastards (Nuclear Blast)
When the untimely death of Lemmy Kilmister in 2016 led to the dissolution of rock legends Motörhead, nobody would have thought any less of guitarist Phil Campbell if he’d joined another established band, or even called it a day. In fact, he started from scratch, making music with his own offspring, and the phoenix which rose from the ashes were Phil Campbell & The Bastard Sons.
Following 2018 debut The Age Of Absurdity, Campbell and his sons Todd (guitar), Tyla (bass) and Dane (drums), plus frontman Neil Starr, have quickly become festival favourites and this latest release only builds on what has been previously recorded. The title track and album opener will be instantly recognisable to fans of the band; Son Of A Gun and Bite My Tongue are two belters and the attitude on the bluesy Born To Roam is right up there, proving that debut album was nowhere near a fluke.
Recorded and engineered earlier this year by guitarist Todd Campbell, we’ve been gifted yet another 2020 lockdown gift of rock’n’roll.
words OWEN SCOURFIELD
