magazine called sunset.

Review: Neon Indian, Era Extraña

For his second album, Neon Indian’s Alan Palomo moved to a studio apartment in Helsinki to record in seclusion. Rather than producing a set of icy paeans to loneliness, though, Palomo’s Scandinavian isolation has resulted in a collection of ambitious, glitchy 8-bit electro brimming with teenage longing.

Synth waves swell up on every track, dousing the album with surging electronica, particularly effective on the lazy stomp of single ‘Polish Girl’ and the quivering, nu-gazey ‘Suns Irrupt’. The three-part ‘Heart’ track that opens the LP, re-emerging in the middle and end, is laced with twinkling keyboard flourishes, sounding like an infomercial from the world of Tron, as befits a man who recently built and advertised his own mini analog synthesiser. As well as his My Bloody Valentine and Jesus & Mary Chain albums, it sounds like Palomo has been taking sonic cues from fellow nostalgia obsessives Summer Camp; the album’s strident drum machines and the lovelorn lyrics yet hopeful tonality of ‘Fallout’ suggest a slightly more earnest version of 80s revivalism.

The title has a kind of dual meaning - as Palomo explains here - meaning both ‘to miss something’ and ‘strange’. While that first sense gets summed up in the hazy memories that dot the album, both lyrically and sonically, the second seems less applicable: rather than indulging in chillwave’s more excessive meanderings, Era Extraña is just wonderfully inventive pop. With a lot of synths.

Posted by Laurie Tuffrey

gone but not forgotten: The Chalets

June 2005: a sweaty provincial music hall in Ireland, full to capacity for local superstars Ash. The lights dim as two ladies in leopard print dresses shimmy on stage, clutching bottles of cider, and position themselves behind their keyboards. Neither of them are Charlotte Hatherley, nor is it Tim Wheeler in drag. “LOOK AT THE SHAPE A THEM!” comes a cry of bemusement from the back. They’re Pony and Peepee and the name of the band is The Chalets.

Joined by three male counterparts (the less exotically-christened Chris, Dylan and Enda), the holiday camp accommodation at ATP Festival inspired their name. If the Dubliners’ sartorial panache wasn’t striking enough, their three minute, three chord trashy pop nuggets left you gasping. “I know you love me, but you’re fucking crazy” is an example of their lyrical prowess. Like biting into a pink-iced truffle to discover a filling of absinthe, their cutesy but sinister demeanour briefly illuminated the Irish music scene. Their novelty was refreshing, to say the least, amid a slew of At The Drive-In tribute acts with shit haircuts and dubious hygiene.

A year after Nightrocker, their promising 2004 EP, came debut long player Check In. Appearing to recount an ill-fated swinger party in Wicklow, Theme From The Chalets makes for the BEST OPENING TRACK EVER.

“You’re making us wanna unbuckle our trousers.

“You’re making us wanna, tighten our skirts.”

From its aeronautically-themed artwork to cheap synths, handclaps and B-52s-esque call and responses, everything about Check In was DIY and ramshackle, with a knowing wink. The songs were ambitious for seemingly frivolous pop numbers. No Style employed bubblegum harmonies to lament the loss of youth and Feel The Machine was an ode to romanticising with your computer.

Amid work on their follow-up, their untimely split in 2008 came as a surprise. Citing financial reasons (the band famously held down day jobs in record shops and hair salons while recording and touring Europe with The Cribs and Art Brut), members Pony and Peepee can now be found in Tallulah Does the Hula. Disappointingly, they lack the pop sensibility of their predecessor.  

Ireland’s alternative scene remains an eccentric pick ‘n’ mix of bands and genres, without any clearly-defined movements. Fight Like Apes excel at doing deranged (their new album’s called The Body of Christ & The Legs of Tina Turner), And So I Watch You From Afar bring intensity and LaFaro deal in unapologetic balls-out rawk. No band, though, has since come close to the effervescence of The Chalets, both live and on record.

http://www.myspace.com/thechalets 

Posted by Paul Smith

Review: Of Montreal - False Priest

Of Montreal – False Priest

“You look like a playground to me, playa”, coo Solange Knowles and Kevin Barnes on Sex Karma, the sleaze zenith of Of Montreal’s tenth record. When they premiered the duet on Jimmy Fallon’s chat show, it was a soundbed to a visual spectacular of booty-shaking, afros and a cast of chalk-faced extras nattering in the background. On the followup to 2008’s Skeletal Lamping, Sex Karma’s a brief burst of brilliance for a collection of Viagra-fuelled Prince castoffs.

A kaleidoscopic RnB odyssey taking in Motown funk (album opener I Feel Ya Strutter) and psychedelic spaghetti western (free download Coquet Coquette), it’s Barne’s lyrics that dump a further vat of slurry into the mix. “I don’t want you anymore. I don’t need you anymore. Go away. Go away. Go away” he gripes on Famine Affair. 

Like Ms Knowles’ star turn, it takes the appearance of superstar in the-making Janelle Monae to mop up the mess on Enemy Gene. Barnes’ guest spot on Monae’s debut sat uncomfortably on her focused Metropolis suite, an Of Montreal highjack where the pair’s vocals were indistinguishable. Here, their voices are crystalline and robotic, sounding as if they’re jamming in space. At least, then, we’ve got the beginnings of a smashing OM collaboration LP.

Posted by Paul Smith

The Curse Of The Undesirable Cover Version

The undesirable cover is much like an unwanted Christmas present, or the last puppy in the pet shop (or both, see above); a symbol of inherent sadness, infused with tragic pathos. It is the forlorn shadow of its former self, its once-glorious qualities suffering the wrecking-ball tactics of a thoughtless pop starlet/soul icon whose star is on the wain/William Shatner. The news is rife with stories about such pesky mimicks, too: yesterday’s revelation that Susan Boyle is going to Simon Cowellify Perfect Day is the latest in a series of occurrences so common, it may be time to declare an epidemic. Some have already taken to arms about it: a Stool Pigeon writer is so furious about the possibility of David Gray stultifying Burial that they’ve started a campaign. 

Now, then, seems a good time to take heed from history and take a glance down the noble corridors of yesteryear’s pop (YouTube), and remind ourselves of the dangers of the bad cover version:

1. Sugababes - I Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor

Quite why the NME decided to let the Sugababes onstage at their 2007 Awards show to perform this overblown, histrionic version of the Arctic Monkeys’ song is beyond us. Not that the original is some paragon of unimpeachable rock perfection, but when has Guns N’ Roses-style guitar wankery and tangible discomfort on the band’s part made for musical excellence? Towards the end of the video, the camera cuts to a shot of Johnny Borrell - not normally an arbiter of good taste, it must be said - whose look of mild disgust sums it all up.

2. All Saints - Under The Bridge

…or the perils of hilarious misinterpretation of lyrics by the record company bosses at Island. Anthony Kiedis’s paean to heroin addiction in Los Angeles here becomes an ode to feelin’ glum in rainy old England. Not that All Saints didn’t come up with some musical gold in their time, but this is just a little cringing. The video, too, is a masterpiece of bafflement - the Saints are relocated to an undisclosed American city where the strut and pout around a gigantic hole in the floor of their apartment… Girls! A simple bit of carpentry and all these problems could be solved.

3. Hilary Duff - My Generation

Arguably one of the greatest anthems about sticking it to The Man, now performed by The Man. Need we say anymore?

4. William Shatner - Common People

We’ll temper slagging this one too much because spoken word versions of anything are guaranteed to be profound, humorous or profoundly humorous, and because the video here, combining Shatner’s distinguished brogue with clips from the Star Trek cartoon, is actually rather ace. Jarvis Cocker’s Sheffield tones get traded in for a booming choir and Shatner’s best attempt to convey the horrors of ‘watching roaches climb the wall’. For kitsch value, we’ll give this a thumbs up.

5. Sid Vicious - My Way

Sadly, Frank Sinatra was still alive to hear Vicious release his version of Ol’ Blue Eye’s swan song. Presumably produced as a final fuck you to society, Vicious’s version isn’t without its fans - Martin Scorsese had it playing over the final credits of Goodfellas. The video, though, hasn’t aged too well - Vicious pops up in a oversized white dinner jacket, crooning his way through the opening and then bopping away like a gawky teenager who’s been told to act punk. A little like some other guys we can think of.

6. Jamie Cullum - High & Dry

Far be it from us to take a pop at music’s erstwhile kicking post, but the Jazz Hobbit really did excel himself on this one. Take one of Radiohead’s most simply beautiful songs, add rumba drums, a (steel yourselves) piano solo and Cullum’s very own Kermit the Frog-style vocal noodlings, and you end up with one regrettable piece of pseudo-lounge jazz, not fit to be played in Pizza Hut.

7. Bon Jovi - Hallelujah

The 6 minute-long video is almost excusable for Bon Jovi’s attempt to portray the troubled troubadour, shaking his head because it’s, like, such a powerful song, dude, and pointing a finger skywards to emphasise the ‘maybe there’s a God above’ lyric. Let’s not be too quick to judge Jon, though. Maybe Wanted Dead or Alive just wasn’t quite enough of an outlet for his sensitive, soul-searching side, and Leonard Cohen’s immortal hymn struck a chord within him. Alternatively, he may have spied the opportunity to make a quick buck, which has also seen Alexandra Burke, Kathryn Williams and Fall Out Boy (oh yes) jump on the Hallelujah-wagon. You have much to answer for Messrs Cohen and Buckley.

8. N-Dubz - various

BBC Radio 1’s Live Lounge is rich picking ground for the bad cover-spotter. The Fray giving Hips Don’t Lie the Christian rock treatment, Jamie Cullum becoming a repeat offender with Frontin’… not even YouTube can bring back the majesty of Eamon emoting over The Scientist (it can, though, give you this). To give it its dues, it has produced some moments of greatness, too - Bat For Lashes’ Use Somebody is genuinely beautiful. N-Dubz, though, find themselves in the monumental position of producing the most consistently bad covers for the programme. They’re the Danny Dyer of the Radio 1 Live Lounge. To pick a highlight is just too difficult - whether its the stuttering ‘what d’ya mean, what d’ya mean?’ that prefaces the chorus on About You Now or the unleashing of Dappy’s ‘na-na-nayyaayy’ on The Man Who Can’t Be Moved, they’re a veritable treasure trove of naffness. 

Ah, what the hell…

Posted by Laurie Tuffrey

Ten Reasons Why We Love: Summer Camp

1. They’re a duo from London. Duos are, by default, just great:

2. If you search for their name on YouTube, you get demonic videos like this:

3. When they formed last year, they shrouded their identites in mystery for months…

4. Then they revealed themselves. Surprise. They’re Jeremy Warmsley (here he is:)

5. And Elizabeth Sankey. You may recognise her nice voice, or her “Comedy, cool, versatile, natural, animated, girl next door, warm, sexy, smooth, rich, corporate” style:

6. So their songs, then? Ghost Train (first single, released on Moshi Moshi last spring) is in contest with Whip My Hair for debut of the year. Behind the cutesy nostalgia, drummed up by the John Hughes-sampling intro, is a chorus loaded with pathos; the not-so secret ingredient for stunning pop music. Was It Worth It combines joint boy/girl vocals with sardonic lyrics (“My brother’s huge, he’s gonna take care of you”), Why Don’t You Stay evokes images of your 99 Flake melting as summer peters out and Veronica Sawyer deals in teenage pretentious party alienation of the most claustrophobic kind. Unlike so many of their peers, they capture the wistfulness - but also thrill - of being Young. No coincidence, then, that that’s the title of their debut EP, out now.

7. Their videos look like they should be played in Beyond Retro:

8. That was Round The Moon, their current single. The keyboard sounds at the start probably came from a synthesizer setting marked ‘swoon’. This is its sleeve:

Hot.

9. They project these kind of vintage photos behind themselves when they play live, adding even more pizzazz to the Summer Camp experience. Balloons, confetti and lazers loom.

10. That was a new song, maybe from their debut LP, due for release in the New Year. Like everything else, it hints that more marvels are on the way.

Doesn’t it, Mystic Meg?

YES.

www.myspace.com/summercampmusic

Posted by Paul Smith