THIS WEEK’S NEW ALBUMS REVIEWED | FEATURE
5EPs (Domino)
Dirty Projectors’ extensive roster of former members reads like a best-of list of still-just-under-the-radar indie-rock singer-songwriters, producers and bandleaders. Long gone are the days of being Dave Longstreth’s solo project: in this collection of five EPs, released throughout 2020, four current members each take turns on lead vocals.
It’s the perfect way to bring out the different flavours that inform the overall sound, from Maia Friedman’s 60s folk-esque tones on opening track On The Breeze to the bossa nova-esque guitar accompaniments that suit Longstreth’s voice so beautifully. Their signature busy rococo sound is still there, with textures built out of wacky instrumental, electronic and vocal noises, but there’s more space. Each song sounds like an expertly crafted miniature, but simultaneously composed on the spot; on at least half of the tracks it feels as if we’re the audience to an intimate, somewhat improvised live performance.
5EPs strikes the difficult balance of demanding attentive listening with headphones on and eyes closed, and fitting nicely into the background, transporting the indie art-rock fan into a world where folksy coffee shops, minimalist art galleries and Brazilian cafes sonically blend into one.
words ISABEL THOMAS
Don’t Let The Devil Take Another Day (Parlophone)
When, as Stereophonics frontman, Kelly Jones completed a solo tour in 2019, little did his audience know he was keeping a secret from them. After needing surgery on a benign lump on his throat, he had to battle to find his famous voice again. This second solo album proves his voice is more powerful than ever.
The 21 tracks on Don’t Let The Devil Take Another Day include new arrangements of Stereophonics anthems, B-sides, solo work from Only The Names Have Been Changed and a cover version of Kris Kristofferson’s Help Me Through The Night – made famous by Sammi Smith, and covered by many others including Elvis.
Using an MTV Unplugged-style format and taking it somewhere new, Jones shows his ability to arrange music and performances – mixing between comedy and crooner show, with songs featuring trumpets and violins that would be fitting in Ronnie Scott’s Jazz Club or a Bond film, and everywhere in between. He invites the audience in with funny stories about Stuart Cable’s shenanigans with the Rolling Stones, to playing five-a-side football with David Bowie, either side of emotive music, before the crescendo of Just Looking and Dakota.
words ALEX WILLIAMS
In Tune (Gwdihŵ)
The debut full-length album from Flintshire auteur Meilir Tomos [pictured, top] has been a long time coming, but its ambitious, compositionally complex, modernist chamber-pop has been worth the wait.
Largely structured around piano and Tomos’ crystal-clear choirboy voice, the songs also feature synths, brass, warm guitar, improvised percussion (there’s a song called Music For Typewriter) and electronic snap, crackle and pop. There are revelatory evolutions at every turn: 2018 single Glasshouse is a heavyweight piano ballad subjected to a benign electronic takeover, while Ydy’r Ffordd Yn Glir? begins with wind chimes, naked Yorke/Buckley vocals and ominous synth and yet ends three minutes later as pulsing retrofuturist disco.
“Look to the sky,” Tomos urges on Glasshouse, encapsulating both the album’s visionary outlook and its creator’s yearning to escape the cruel reality of a world that can rob you of loved ones without reason (Four Leaf Clover). On occasion, he throws too much into the mix, but the fact that he dares to dream is laudable, and In Tune is alive with possibility and imagination.
words BEN WOOLHEAD
Odin’s Raven Magic (Krunk)
If you’ve had your whistle whetted by Jónsi’s latest and been hoping for another quaker after Kveikur, then you’re going to be totally wrongfooted by this one – but bear with it, as Sigur Rós’ DNA is stamped on three of the eight compositions on Odin’s Raven Magic, which slowly cloak you with warmth, after the creeping glacier of the album’s start.
This is a delve into the archives, the first full recording of an orchestral piece commissioned in 2002. Kjartan Sveinsson, who served in the band from 1998-2012 as the only classically trained musician, responsible for strings, piano and things, composed this with a member of Amiina. The band had to play it from memory – none of the group could read music – alongside the orchestras of Reykjavik and Paris.
Opener Prologus is portentous and Alfödur orkar is austere, like something you can imagine from a mediaeval monastery – indeed it’s the Edda, or the story of the Norse God’s ravens, that’s inspired this. Dvergmál is the one that’s the most recognisable as the band, with the simple Steve Reichian melody played on the rough-hewn stone marimba, soaring strings, deft drums and a choir. Jónsi and his angelic voice makes his only appearance in a 10-minute opus, floating Hopelandic words atop the sweeping majesty of Stendur æva, singing counter to the deep baritone of Hilmar Örn Hilmarsson.
The electronic breathing of an iron lung segues nicely into Áss hinn hviti, with a brass section and tick tocking marimba. The remainder doesn’t hit these heights, but you can picture Odin’s twin ravens soaring above those three volcanic peaks.
words CHRIS SEAL
30 Year Itch (Round)
The uncrowned kings of British rock and one of the most underrated bands of the last three decades, The Wildhearts will celebrate an remarkable 30 years in the music business in 2021 and to mark the occasion, they’ve given us a reminder of what we are all missing, with raucous new live album 30 Year Itch.
First and foremost, it’s a celebration of frontman Ginger’s unmatched talent for a catchy hook – evident as this incredible live set bounces back and forth across their career, from newer tracks like Let ‘Em Go all the way back to the early 90s likes of TV Tan. Secondly is the timing of the release: 2020 has seen live music come to a grinding halt and the energy that jumps out of this record will make you yearn for a return to live music even more. Here’s to 30 more years of The Wildhearts.
words CHRIS ANDREWS