THIS WEEK’S NEW ALBUMS REVIEWED | FEATURE
Ritual Divination (RidingEasy)
Here Lies Man, the Los Angeles-based combo made up of members of Antibalas, have been dubbed “Black Sabbath meets Afrobeat”, and if that sounds a little farfetched – it isn’t. The Sabbath likeness is so stark you almost expect to hear Ozzy’s shrill voice or Dio singing about dragons and kings, but this is no tribute act and the vocals – distinctly tribal-sounding and quite mesmeric – take a back seat.
After I got over the (nice) surprise of the familiar musical style I found myself listening to this album for its own sake – and not just for what the band were playing but how they were playing. There is some accomplished musicianship going on here: instruments and vocals don’t try to outpace each other and Geoff Mann’s drumming is first-rate. Ritual Divination is Here Lies Man’s fourth album, their first output as a four-piece, and 15 tracks of rhythmic psychedelic rock without ego.
words LYNDA NASH
JAMES YORKSTON AND THE SECOND HAND ORCHESTRA
The Wide, Wide River (Domino)
“A fully improvised piece”: words to strike fear into souls who get OCD without some structure. While improv works best in comedy, in movies and TV it can lead to a meandering plot and dialogue, people repeating words at each other, shouting, swearing and blather. In music, meanwhile, jazz and folk is where improvisation lives and breathes – and so to James Yorkston. The Scot’s 10th folk album gets him the last few stamps in his EU passport as he hops it over to Sweden – lyric pad in his suitcase, or fisherman’s net as I like to imagine – to work with friend Karl-Jonas Winqvist, the Swedish producer and leader of The Second Hand Orchestra.
Thankfully, despite the odd F-bomb dropped in opening ode to insobriety Ella Mary Leather, things work out sweetly in these off-the-cuff tunes, recorded and mixed in just three days (presumably to beat queues at customs). Collaborations with people like Peter Morén of Peter, Bjorn & John and renowned nyckelharpa player Cecilia Österholm works best on To Soothe Her Wee Bit Sorrows, which combines string-driven folk with the kinesis of Krautrock, while Choices Like Wide Rivers is a lovely campfire singalong with the raggedy feel of Jeffrey Lewis.
Struggle has some Pretenders-esque Honeyman-Scott Rickenbacker jangle as honey on the top and There Is No Upside is a good bop around Van Morrison’s barn with a stream-of-consciousness segment from Yorkston triggering a nice chord change. There’ll be less colour in our lives if post-Brexit rules mean less of these EU-UK hookups – no upside indeed.
words CHRIS SEAL
Metamorphosed (Rock Is Hell)
As much as I respect the apparently indefatigable John Dwyer for his remarkable work ethic, his records have strangely always left me some way south of whelmed, feeling inclined to conclude that too much of his imagination is invested in thinking up new variation-on-a-theme bandnames. So is Metamorphosed the album to change all that?
In a word, no – though it does dispel any lingering suspicion that Dwyer is a one-trick pony. The opening three tracks whizz by in well under two minutes each: Saignant paraphrases the in-the-red noise-garage of Wasted Shirt, Dwyer’s friend Ty Segall’s collaboration with Brian Chippendale of Lightning Bolt, while Electric War barrels along with a turbocharged riff only to wind up in the same lame way as Black Sabbath’s War Pigs.
Weird And Wasted Connection dials things down and, appropriately enough, creates a sonic link to what follows: a seductive kosmische jam called The Virologist that finally calls time on the trip after a quarter of an hour. But even that’s dwarfed by I Got A Lot, 23 minutes of tense, nervous energy that keeps you hanging on for a moment of release that never comes. An odd assemblage, all told, but for fans it’ll plug the gap until the next record is out – which is probably a fortnight’s time.
words BEN WOOLHEAD
Magic Mirror (Kanine)
Pearl Charles [pictured] may be in a state of flux. Album opener Only For Tonight taps into the hooks and trademark piano flourishes of Abba’s Dancing Queen. By the time we reach the closer we’ve hit Norah Jones sentiments and Nashville grooves. For a talent like Charles’, this is all healthy experimentation. But her voice soars on the more Americana tracks – see the sublime Take Your Time – while the poppier offerings give the feeling of an artist almost fighting against her natural state.
This is only marked more by a trio of songs (Imposter, Don’t Feel Like Myself and the beautiful title track) that question Charles’ confidence in her sense of self. When it’s on the money, Magic Mirror casts a stunning spell of reflection. Charles may need to trust what shines back a little more to produce the coherent, killer album she is capable of.
words JOHN-PAUL DAVIES
Leviathan (Nuclear Blast)
More opera than metal, Therion’s 17th studio album makes for a confusing experience, but when it works, the rich operatic textures make for an immersive atmosphere full of drama and soaring choruses. From the gauzy layers of traditional instruments, to the muted riffs woven deep into the mix, it’s clear that the band still have the talent to balance an arsenal of ideas, and they rightfully leave plenty of room for the vocals to shine.
Unfortunately, the middle of the project sags, with a handful of songs sounding thin and twee thanks to an absence of strong metal instrumentation to match the powerful vocals; tracks like The Leaf On The Oak Of Far are the worst offenders for this, at times borderline flirting with hair metal. Christofer Johnsson, the mastermind behind the prolific band, may have aimed to create a giant hit album – but perhaps he shouldn’t have, as the core of Therion has always been innovation, and this release stands as a testament to why it needs to be. Standout singles aside, the project in its entirety is accessible and unambitious, focusing more on building flavour than substance.
words ALEX PAYNE