THIS WEEK’S NEW ALBUMS REVIEWED | FEATURE
The Ides Of March (Napalm)
The Ides Of March, the second solo album from Myles Kennedy, covers a lot of bases from heavy rock to blues to good ol’ rock’n’roll: the Alter Bridge frontman aimed for diversity and that’s what he’s delivered. This is a hook-driven album with some familiar-sounding riffs, some more familiar than others. The title track, a seven-minute, 39-second epic, is a mix of styles in which it’s hard to ignore the ‘snippets’ of Simon and Garfunkel and Led Zeppelin.
Kennedy’s voice, smooth as ever, seems too exposed on songs such as Wonderlust Begins, but when vocals and music blend you can relax and enjoy the ride. The musician, who also sings for Slash of Guns N’ Roses fame, was suffering from a repetitive strain injury at the time of recording, but even an overworked wrist won’t hold a good shredder back and the guitar work here is outstanding. Sold, you might be excited to hear, in some eight different formats, topping out with a glow-in-the-dark vinyl boxset.
words LYNDA NASH
Fat Pop (Volume 1) (Polydor)
Purple patch, critical acclaim, return to relevance, late period resurgence. It’s been 13 years of exceptional output from Weller who has moved beyond his, frankly annoying, Modfather moniker to the position of supremely assured songwriter. Since 2008’s 22 Dreams, Weller’s hardly put a foot wrong and this momentum has brought a well-earned confidence that pours out of everything he does.
Seven albums later, including three number ones, comes Fat Pop, its subtitle suggesting there’s more to come, and imminently. The opening triptych has a decidedly Bowie-ish air to it – there’s even a wide vibrato to his vocals and an unexpected sax solo in True. And while there’s not the sensitive moments that stood out in last year’s On Sunset, there is greater coherence to this rockier offering that settles into more straight-ahead territory for the remaining nine tracks.
Then, just when you’re wondering if there are any standout songs in the latter half, closer Still Glides The Sun brings the best harmonic shifts and affecting arrangement of the album in an over-too-soon nugget that must be about the Bowie we heard so much influence of in the first half. Weller now makes bulletproof records, but on his own terms, without acceding to trends or fan expectations. A rare thing, that, with the passing of some of our greatest writers, is getting rarer still.
words JOHN-PAUL DAVIES
RY X & LONDON CONTEMPORARY ORCHESTRA
Live From The Royal Albert Hall (Infectious Music)
After two well-received albums, the immaculately bearded RY X earnt the right to achieve a lifetime ambition by stepping out into the splendid architecture of the Royal Albert Hall, with the London Contemporary Orchestra, and this album is a worthy document of that. I’m a sucker for strings and things, and LCO make full use of the exquisite acoustics: embellishing and extending Ry’s haiku-like songs of intense emotion into longer soundscapes blending contemporary classical with tasteful electronics, guitar and haunting vocals, remaining faithful to and significantly enhancing the dozen tunes with no gorgeous notes wasted.
If you don’t know RY X by now, you may well have hummed along to Berlin on the soundtrack to BBC uberhit Normal People – and rest assured there’s nothing flaccid in this show. The 11-minute Sweat sets the tone with majestic violin and cello, followed by Salt, which has the earthy ambience of Bon Iver at his most heartstopping, swelling strings and brass prompting rapturous applause to break the reverie. Ambient interludes like Solace, Clamp and Flume dwell in the space between solitude and connection, while Body Sun and Bound have an unfettered beauty that’s hard to beat. This is the ideal soundtrack to break up and make up.
words CHRIS SEAL
Trust No Wave (Disciples/R.A.T.S )
A real widening of my horizons: listening to Special Interest [pictured, top] filled me with a real sense of my own student life. It evokes a combination equal parts Siouxsie & The Banshees and Sex Pistols. I imagined the old-time sound of playing some pressed to vinyl, the form in which this music was surely intended to be heard (notwithstanding the fact that the eight-song Trust No Wave LP is an expanded reissue of this New Orleans band’s demo tape from 2016).
I was taken back to listening to records in my front room – mostly jazz, mind you, so this was a new experience. It felt as if it needed to be played loud. The music video for Disease is a joyful reminder of life before COVID: big crowds and the chaos of loud music. The black-and-white, negative space-style clip saw the childhood fear I had of The Prodigy flooding back. Though one of the crop of 2016 songs, it felt immediate and fresh, and I binged the tracks much like you do at a live gig (do we all remember those?).
Maybe my absolute favourite cut from Trust No Wave is Black Silk Stalking and its mesmerising beat; ultimately, however, each track feeds into the next in a manner most engaging to listeners. I’m a new convert.
words BILLIE INGRAM SOFOKLEOUS
Daddy’s Home (Loma Vista)
St Vincent’s 2017 full-length Masseduction was a widely acclaimed success. A provocative, colourful work of postmodern eclecticism, it was bold and singular and bursting at the seams with ideas. Daddy’s Home takes a very different approach, opting to utilise retro pastiche in place of its predecessor’s experimentation.
The spacey guitars and layered vocals of Live The Dream echo the more straightforward, approachable moments of Pink Floyd, while the jaunty funk of the title track recalls Young Americans-era Bowie. Daddy’s Home wholly replaces the once progressive sensibilities of St. Vincent (aka Annie Clark) with an uncharacteristic reliance on nostalgic, retro signifiers. Her vocals and lyrics are as charismatic as ever, but they’re buried beneath so much 1970s musk that few moments leave a lasting impression.
Nominally an album about her father’s release from jail (which Clark is apparently reluctant to discuss), the impact of these themes are blunted by the pervasive air of artifice and imitation. There’s perhaps an argument to be made that the 70s signifiers are there to match the thematic focus on Clark’s family and memories, but this approach ultimately means that Daddy’s Home’s emotional core collapses due to a lack of a singular identity.
words TOM MORGAN
