Joanna Newsom

Young girl sings in strange screech-voice, wears renaissance outfits and plays harp. Not sounding like the latest hipster phenomenon? Well, it's precisely this inability to predict the next trend that makes the wearers of skinny jeans so effortlessly cool, and me (and you) left gasping in their uber-nonchalant wake. For reasons entirely too complex to be grasped by my behind-the-curve brain, it has been decided that Joanna Newsom is "in". While I quite enjoy the featured song, I'm having real difficulty getting on-board a whole album of 12-minute harp/vocal tracks. But seeing as how Erasure have featured in my recent posts, my opinion probably don't count for shit.

The Beta Band

Last night I watched It's all gone Pete Tong, a mockumentary about an Ibiza DJ who overcomes deafness and a mammoth drug habit to rise to the to of his game. The metaphor for cocaine addiction is a giant badger that makes Godzilla-eqsue noises. What's not to like? Anyways, the point is that The Beta Band did a good chunk of the score, and I was reminded of how much I loved their blend of laid-back indie/electronica.

The Essex Green

Oooh, I'm so excited, I could crush a grape. A week on Saturday (the 27th) I'm off to see The Essex Green play at Paradise. They're supporting the excellent (and previously covered) Camera Obscura. Unfortunately, The Essex Green appear to have been concentrating on honing their music craft at the expense of making videos. Instead, here are links to two mp3s from their latest two albums.

The Essex Green - I don't know why you stay (mp3)
The Essex Green - Our Lady In Havana (mp3)

Erasure

My mp3 player thinks I’m gay. I keep it on random, but it insists on playing only Erasure, Pet Shop Boys, Frankie Goes To Hollywood and Madonna (which make up less than 1% of the music on there. And those are purely for nostalgia sake. Honestly). It’s not the first object to question my sexuality - that would be my dad. I remember him sitting me down and telling me that he and my mum would love me just as much if I was gay (an extremely progressive stance for a forty year old guy from North Wales. I suspect my mum’s influence in his choice of words: My dad has never before or since used the “L” word). At the time I was baffled. But looking back, all those days when my dad returned from watching my little brother play rugby to find me locked in my bedroom with my best mate (Howard), singing and dancing to Love to Hate You, may have given him the wrong impression. Howard, dad, this one’s for you…

The Pipettes

This week I've actually been listening to Helen Love, but couldn't find a decent video for her. Furthermore, this is going to be my last post of 2006, so something released this year would probably be fitting. As Ms Love was the first to coin the term girl power (a good five years before The Spice Girls were unleashed on unsuspecting footballers and comedians), I thought The Pipettes would be a good choice.

In case the polka dot dresses didn't give it away, I think it's fair to say The Pipettes are probably closer to being successors to the Phil Spector girl groups of the 60's more than descendants of Scary, Minger, Chav, Chubby and Council of the 90's. The video places the Brighton girls in Russ Meyer's Into the Valley of the Dolls. Ace.

Neutral Milk Hotel

Neutral Milk Hotel are the Flying Scotsman for music trainspotters everywhere. Nobody likes them on first listen. They only produced two albums, the first of which (in my not-so-humble opinion) is a mess of noise, while the second is an Anne Frank concept album recorded with period instruments (if you're willing to invest the time and effort it is a sure thing to become one of your favourite albums of all time. Though you'll have no idea why). They played their first gig at a laundromat.

I don't think they actually made any music videos as such (the one linked here is a fan-made effort). I guess it's not really all that surprising: I can't imagine they were much in demand with MTV.

The Rakes

Leaving the early 90s behind and moving a bit closer to the present day… The Rakes. I was first introduced to these skinny Brits at a gig in Boston, where they supported Stellastarr*. Now, I adore Stellastarr*’s first album, therefore it pains me somewhat to have to say: They truly, truly suck live (thanks America. If there’s one thing I’m grateful to you for, it’s the term “suck”. No other word quite conveys how something can be so actively bad). When a band relies heavily on vocal harmonies, they should at least be able to hold a note. I’m looking at you, hot female bass-player. At times it was genuinely painful. Oddly, this sorry headline performance came during one of my favourite gigs of last year, saved entirely by the two, as then unknown to me, support bands (the other being Interpol/Joy Division lovechild, Editors. More from them at a later date).

The Rakes, taking the tricky first spot in a three-band line-up, positively brimmed with energy and enthusiasm, a welcome change from the usual Indie-boy affected nonchalance. And frontman Alan Donahoe is not afraid to dance like an electrified stick-insect on cheap whizz. A trait I always admire. I salute you, sir!

Pulp

I seem to be stuck firmly in the early nineties (I'm not quite sure why - even milk-bottle thick rose-tinted lenses can't hide the fact I was awkward, spotty, speccy, had crap hair and shit shoes. At least the acne eventually cleared up). Pulp were the perfect outlet for mis-shapes, mistakes, misfits, with front-man Jarvis proving skinny and enormous glasses weren't actually the end of the world (though I swear the NHS goggles my mum used to buy me were some kind of prototype re-entry shielding for the space shuttle).

I can't listen to this track without thinking back to my time working in the trendy, upper-class supermarket, Kwik Save, when the rebellious assistant manager let me play His'n'Hers over the tannoy system. How amused I was to watch the Sunday morning shoppers (predominantly female pensioners) expecting jingles for No Frills toilet cleaner instead be greeted by I want to take you home, I want to give you children.