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Reviews #7 - #12 (of 460 ), sorted by date. Sort by artist instead. Jump to review #
 
Acid House Kings
Mondays Are Like Tuesdays And Tuesdays Are Like Wednesdays CD
Hidden Agenda. AHA! 038.
by Keith Mclachlan.
April 28, 2002.


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Imagine if Le Pen wins, would this mean that Alec Baldwin would have to alter his plans of flight from the oppressive Bush regime to France and instead hop on the next plane to Stockholm instead? How frighteneing for his fellow passengers as likely for the duration of the 11 hour flight from LA Alec would bleat endlessly about how it was the 2000 election that was the most tragic event in recent history maybe in the history of the world ever not some silly event where 3000 people died because of a madman who marries his buddies granddaughter. No the real threat to Amerikkka is the possibility that funds for head start might be cut or that we won't have clean needle exchanges in every junior high school by the time of the next election. Once in Sweden though Alec would get off the plane and after having a Kim Basinger flashback upon seeing all the blonde babes in Sweden and finishing a brief period of 'do you know who i am and will you sleep with me' would immediately settle in and attempt to discover the underground resistance in Sweden hoping to establish his own political credibility in hopes of running someday for a seat in the Riksdag. He might find himself then at an Acid House Kings (subversives at heart surely) show and suitably impressed by their performance proceed to follow them around for the rest of his life. He might be in sessions for their next album as executive producer, he would say things like 'hey you know how on your last album you had that number that sounded a bit like the Kings of Convenience? yeah I loved it too, but what if this time instead of writing about some bimbo like you normally do what if instead you decried the supreme court's conservative majority, maybe adding a line about how Antonin Scalia has hair on his back' or 'Hey that song that sounded a bit Lightning Seeds was fab, I love the Seeds, but what if its successor was about Neil Bush's failed Savings and Loan instead? and the girl who sings in your band is she really necessary? I think we need someone with a bit more anger sure she sounds all lovely and pristine and effete, but we need some balls, no offence babe, we need someone who would be willing to stand up for Mumia and spit in the face of the jack booted thugs from the ATF come to silence us here in Sweden. Have you ever spit in a thugs face sweetie? Didn't think so.' At this point one of the handsome AHKs would ask Alec to leave and they would record another album just like this one with perfect harmonies, with some moments that remind of the Sundays and others that remind of other perfect pop groups and then they would release it and Alec Baldwin would claim it was a government strongarm position the Bush administration shutting down the rebel AHKs before they could speak/sing the truth. Criminal!
 
Orwell
Des Lendemains CD
Quince.
by Keith Mclachlan.
April 28, 2002.

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I believe that this is a rather old record and I wonder if I should even be reviewing it as it somewhat upsets my standards as being cutting edge and forward thinking, pardon my ha but i think perhaps this record was released as far back as 2000??? I dunno, I only know I only just picked it up and so I feel easily compelled to blather on for a few (or one extended) paragraphs about it. It is tres sophisticated (or seemingly so since it is somewhat baroque but what then makes strings more prestigious than synthesizers other than snobbery?) French pop that comes out very similar to Fugu minus the harpsichords and the high notes. But then the French, how can I review a French record without commenting on the French, know snobbery often lecturing us on our barbarism (this the country who used the guillotine until 1977) and this the country with all this hysteria this week over Le Pen. There have been daily protests over a free election of an alleged fascist which in itself seems all the more fascist to me. Perhaps it is just continuing guilt that the reflections frenchmen often see in the mirror are those of the totalitarian bent ranging from Petain to Thorez (a stalinist who approved of the execution of Imre Nagy and surely would have butchered thousands if he had been able to improve on his regular 25%!?! showings in French general elections) and now to Le Pen who, looking at his proposals, seems the most mild of the lot his only crime being from the right. Anyhow, I suppose Orwell probably voted for Jospin or more laughably for Olivier Pescanot (the Troskyite postman) but that matters little because this is a lovely little record that deserves more attention. At the moment I believe it only appears on the Japanese imprint Quince but with it's delicate fusion of acoustic flavoured pop ideals and some rudimentary stabs at electronic gadgetry it makes for a remarkably delightful listen with only the strange cover of Prodigy's 'Breathe' providing a somewhat awkward moment, Liam Howlett is no poet and even the most dramatic French pretense fails to liven the dreadful 'poetry' once spat upon by Keith Prodigy. Then that aside left begging this is the dossier; loads of strings, whispered vocals, Bacharachian arrangements and a casual insoucciant attitude that will very nearly allow one to escape the memories that recount the horror of listening to the Ego album. Orwell are very fine indeed.
 
Milky Wimpshake
Lovers, Not Fighters CD
Troubleman Unlimited.
by Keith Mclachlan.
April 14, 2002.


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Why is it that there are never any bands that record pop polemics which proceed from the right side of the political spectrum? Holiday were famous for their libertarianism but seemed content enough to sing about insubstantial fluff and I don't think Bruce Willis' escapades in pop music count as political discourse. I've no answers but we all know there is no shortage of idiotic diatribes from the left (see International Noise Conspiracy). Granted as left leaning troubadours Milky Wimpshake really has only had one drole moment in their sloganeering/posturing and that was when they memorialized Naom Chomsky in song, now that guy has never found a dictator whose murderous policies he couldn't justify or excuse as right-wing propaganda, the fact that the Ramones (with an alleged republican on lead guitar) had to be dragged into the Choamsky mud by way of sharing a song narrative is somewhat unfortunate. On then to the 2nd record of Wimpshaking tunes and yes there is still a political bent well tilted towards the left but that doesn't really bother me, even if it might be nice to see Pete write a song about the idiocy of the Kyoto accord though. The tunes aren't political first and pop second, nope, Mr. Pete W has an arsenal of hooks that likely even outnumbers the number of katyusha rockets that hezbollah has poised to lob into northern Israel and so the fact that your butt is grooving to some simplistic jive about class struggle is no worries no cares because the next song is just as likely to be about scrabble or stalking someone on the phone. The songs this time around aren't all out sprints to the finish line either, I can't imagine they improved because of a world tour honing their musical chops but the band is more dynamic (horrid review cliche!), the songs are fuller and the inspiration is more diverse (a few dreadful attempts at Pete Seeger meets the Muppets folk-pop are easily overlooked) and the lyrics are of course extraordinary making the political personal and the personal seem universal. Apparently this was recorded as much as three years ago, who knows why it took so long to come out. The only band on Troubleman Unlimited that I would touch with a 37 foot pole have gone and made another fantastic record, maybe that mythical world tour is in the offing too to that we here in Denver can get a close up glance of Pete's dreamy psycho-killer eyes.
 
the Clientele
Lost Weekend EP CD-EP
Acuarela. nois 020.
by Keith Mclachlan.
April 14, 2002.


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I can, rather easily actually, imagine the gnashing of the choppers in the mouth of Alasdair of the Customers when he records a new song and realizes it is incredibly tuneful and, well, pop. I bet he thinks he is somewhere along the line between eccentrics and wackos with his dreams of surrealism and umbrellas and dissection tables but sadly he has ths strange capacity for writing instantly catchy numbers which seem to sacrifice any hope for credibility among those devoted to admiring the tuneless. Even with the avant garde dressing down these songs receive by way of dissonant piano tones and field recordings interwoven there is an unmistakable amount of popular genius on view. They probably sound exactly like some obscure 60s band but I don't know which, they are treading a light fleet path towards a sound all their own really.
   The Mrs. says it is more Galaxie 500 than any of the previous The Customers releases and I might agree especially with the featured presence of the falsetto and the insistence on placing references to rain in nearly every song but then comes the marching/waltz number 'Kelvin Parade' which greatly improves on previous versions of this style in their pop armament and I can't place a reference further back than the Customers own past. I also find it interesting that they likely use more effects on the vocals than on the guitars cause there is no way any human naturally has a voice like this, or if he does he probably doesn't look like the Customers' lead singer because he looks a bit too much like a Blockbuster clerk to have such a fascinatingly interesting dark personna. Maybe they should only release EPs and singles cause they are on such a winning streak that pausing to record a full-length might not be in the Customers' best interest.
 
the Starlets
Surely Tomorrow You'll Feel Blue CD
Stereotone. stereo1.
by Keith Mclachlan.
March 28, 2002.

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Ever notice how there are no Esther's anymore, no Mildreds or Eulas or Blanches either? These are old fart names they have fallen from favour with the terminally unaging baby-boomers and their successors in my generation who all appear to be having kids with more ease than I would ever imagine possible what with me concerned about future mates deciding my income level is up to snuff or my reading list having been ideally compiled to prepare for a life of eternal bliss. But maybe I don't need marriage, I have the Starlets and their songs will likely warm my heart far longer than any creature not walking on four legs. They have a Biff in their ranks, not sure what this is short for except as part of the ideal tandem of Biff and Buffy to describe those odious sorts who listen to Dave Matthews and wear Abercrombie and Fitch catalog advertised apparel although funny enough you need to be over 18 to get their catalog because a clothes company decided the best way to sell its clothes was not by having models model clothes but rather have models be naked, brilliant. Anyhow, Biff is short for nothing actually and according to a name report website means the possessor has a highly charged and dynamic state of being or something like that. Biff Smith must be an aberration then, he is slow, pensive, sensitive and flowery. There are nine songs here six are gorgeous slowies, with trumpets and string sections slowly picked guitars and words like these 'some things are so beautiful you have to turn away' which sums up most of what is on display here. It is not at all reminiscent of Belle and Sebastian even though they are from Glasgow and fey, it has more than a little to do with Paddy Mcaloon and the Go-Betweens but without the Go-Betweens penchant for stinking to high heavens. It's a brilliant debut album and another peg to hang on the map showing the greatest concentration of charming, emotive and literate pop bands (see Marvellous Mechanical Mouse Organ, Ballboy, Pearlfishers, Camera Obscura, etc...) to be fully enveloped by the borders of my fair ancestral homeland of Scotland.
 
the Lucksmiths
Where Were We? CD
Matinee. matcd019.
by Keith Mclachlan.
March 12, 2002.


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A compilation of the moments not collected on the last album and not collected on, ern, the last compilation. Funny thing that like Stereolab the Lucksmiths best albums tend, albeit by the slightest of margins, to be the compilations of the odds and bobs. Most of the songs here are slowies, I had heard roughly half before getting this cd including the marvelous 'Cassingle Revival' which has one of my favourite metaphors for the pining over lost love ever and that leaves half a cd's worth of surprises. There is the collaboration with the Ladybug Transistor recorded for East Timorese poor which is rather sprightly and spontaneity-led and also included is the last "tour-only" single which seems to be readily available nearly everywhere I look, oh, dear me, there is another. And yet I can't find the Starlets album anywhere! And a few other things appear from obscurity like a nice demo for 'The Great Dividing Range' which shows that the string section that makes the album version gorgeous is mostly just icing on the cupcake that the heart of the song is in Marty Donald's emotional outreach and a couple of unreleased numbers including one with some spacey moments that seem very un-Lucksmiths like and are the more compelling for it. Actually, recently and lately I have been digging into the Lucksmiths past, they have a strange history, from my listening excursions they seem to have started out as an endearing, clever, frenetic Housemartinsy pop band who then started to take themselves too seriously, perhaps, and wrote a bunch of middling mid-tempo nonsense about western states and architecture then they righted the boat when they discovered much love from abroad and have turned into a romantic, croonerish sort of laser beam with the perfect pun for ever pop moment. They don't use the 'shoobie-doobie-doos' like they used to, though and the tears I cry at their absence are very real, and they don't let Marty sing even though he sounds like he just escaped from The Man From Delmonte and shines quite smashingly in his previous vocal adventures but, again, as these songs are mostly slowies (undoubtedly the Lucksmiths strength) and the execrable Pam Berry is hardly noticeable in her contribution all is well and this is indeed, then, a grand collection.
 
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Reviews #7 - #12 (of 460 ), sorted by date. Sort by artist instead. Jump to review #