Daveportivo's Cultural Evaluation Facility

Music, Politics, Flim, Books and TV all shall be reviewed within.

Rebirth - Lil' Wayne
(Cash Money 2010, DJ Infamous)

It feels like a long long time since Tha Carter III, it's actually been just two years, but in Wayne's world it appears life has been moving in slow motion. Since his commercial magnum opus Tha Carter III his sorrow and disgust toward political incompetence in the face of Hurricane Katrina has been replaced with joy at the election of the US's first "B-L-A-C-K" president (and before you ask that line marks the climax of album opener American Star). Now while the political landscape has been changing somewhat radically, Wayne too has been making wholesale changes, gone are the freestyles and slick hip hop beats, in are crunching guitars; as Wayne promised to deliver his first rock album. Originally scheduled for release in early 2009, this album has been delayed, and delayed, and delayed again. It's become a running joke and you feel the pressure is finally on this usually carefree hip hop albatross. After the release of lead single Prom Queen received an underwhelming response from the public and critics alike, and as more and more tracks leaked onto the internet, it appeared the haters were gaining moment and a serious backlash was just around the corner. So now that Rebirth is finally here, is it enough to keep the wolves from the door, or is this the moment Wayne's detractors finally get to point laugh and say "I told you so".

Well unfortunately Rebirth sees Lil' Wayne go completely off the rails. Creating an incoherent, uninteresting and at times painfully bad album. It's starts off well enough, the afore mentioned American Star is certainly an enjoyable enough affair, but it sets the stall out early hinting at all of the albums key flaws. Most notably that this entire LP feels like a parody. Wayne plays over a series of ejay style riffs so corny that they'd make Status Quo cringe. Worse still Wayne seems more interested in posturing than actually rocking out or delivering slick rhymes, proclaiming that he's "A Dope Boy With A Guitar" as if holding a guitar is some kind of triumph in itself. Later in the track he shouts "Bridge!" before launching into the track bridge; he's seems pretty pleased with himself, as if he's saying "look this rock thing is easy", well unfortunately it only serves to patronize rock fans, while hip hop fans will surely wonder why they're having to endure such painfully embarrassing garbage. Prom Queen shortly follows and this is a much better effort. When Wayne announced a rock album, I hoped it would allow him to express emotions like heartache, sorrow and anger in a more raw and fragile way that's tricky to achieve in the ultra masculine world of hip hop. Prom Queen shows a more soulful side of Wayne, he's self deprecating, he shows vulnerability and his old wheezy swagger manages to translate into a palatable croon. To the tracks benefit it's one of the few tracks where Wayne's abysmal guitar work plays second fiddle, instead allowing a thundering drum crescendo to create a genuinely moshable chorus. However, this praise must be tempered, it stills distinctly bland, after all if you're looking for triumph over heartache, why would any disgruntled teen choose Prom Queen over the glorious theatrical pomposity of My Chemical Romance's brilliant Black Parade. Or to make matters worse as a single it can't measure up to the sheer inane catchiness of Arvil Lavinge's Sk8r Boi let alone Linkin Park's Crawling.

Sincerity on this album is hard to find, it's too patchy, and it seems that rather than having a coherent narrative or creative direction to present via the medium of rock Wayne is more interested in going to fantasy rock star camp. Across Rebirth Wayne jumps sub genres at will we've got the goofy and almost unlistenable pop rock tracks in the form of the horrid Da Da Da Da, later he's attempting the power ballads with the dreary and uninteresting Paradice and the Police aping I'll Die For You, and he even finds room for pop-punk with the intellegence sapping Knockout. Worst of all is One Way Trip To You where Kevin Randolf creates a chorus that feels like a parody of every ghastly super serious middle of road American of the last fifteen years, only it's not been played for laughs. While the albums lack of coherence or direction is frustrating, the albums greatest tragedy is that while exploring what Wayne perceives as rock he loses sight of his greatest assest; his voice. Wheezy isn't much of a singer, but the charm in his work always came from his trademark wheez. His vocal style was laid back and soothing, it created a calming rhythm of his own distinct from the beat that when contrasted with sudden burst of soul or aggression added a remarkable emotional emphasis to his punchlines. Unfortunately Wheezy's flow is buried on this album, behind his auto-tuned crooning, his plastic punk shouts and his instantly forgettable rant-o-raps. It's a shame really and only adds to a sense of a lost opportunity.

Rebirth while largely putrid is not without it's highlights. The afore mentioned Prom Queen adds genuine depth to Wayne's well established bag of tricks. Ground Zero sees Wheezy in free flowing form as he raps over an urgent bassline dispensing a series of sure fire punchlines before launching into a genuinely catchy chorus (one of the very few on this LP); "Hey, The Ground Is Gone, Don't Look Now But The Ground Is On, I'm So High That The Ground Is Gone, I Can't Even Tell What Cloud I'm On". Ground Zero manages to succeed as it is one of the few fully realized tracks that hangs together in an organic fashion, minus the odd clunky moment. That said it's reference points are sadly dated; see Limp Bizkit circa 2001. The Price Is Wrong is another track that can be classed as passable, only because it's so badly written and generic it feels like a brilliant send up of bad punk music, and is genuinely hilarious, unfortunately it manages to overstays it's welcome. Now there is one bright spot on this album, and not just a passable track, a genuine moment of genius; Drop The World. Leaked a couple of months ago this Eminem collaboration sees both me return to form with a vital rant, that feels like a perfect combination of instrumentation and expression. It captures an emotion perfectly, namely frustration, a moment when your so annoyed you wish you could Drop The World On A Mother Fucker and fly away your space ship too cool off. It's a track that captures a moment perfectly in sound and is an early candidate for single of the year. Furthermore its one of the rare tracks where Wayne celebrates his own individuality. Tha Carter III saw him cast as the alien who wanted to phone home because he was too damn ill for this planet, but Rebirth sees Wayne obsessed with aping every trend in rock music from the last thirty years. Rather than adding to his sound, he's looses it completely, what once made him special is lost in a sea of generic and sloppy rehashes of sounds that weren't even that great in the first place. Hopefully Wayne has got this rock infatuation out of his system so he can refocus, find inspiration and deliver a true follow up to Tha Carter III because the world won't grant him this level of self indulgence again.

Tracks To Download: Drop The World, Ground Zero & Prom Queen

In House Note: Hi, I've been a bit lax in my posting lately as I'll be hoping to upload my first video review sometime tomorrow of this very album. I was hoping to get that up first but I'm still getting my head around video editing and wanted the review up well in advance of the LP's release. In future I'll aim for a short video synopsis first, and then the indepth written review later, it should help me produce content a little quicker.

The Betrayed - Lostprophets
(Visible Noise 2010, Stuart Richardson)

Momentum is a precious commodity, in 2008 Lostprophets were so hot that the mere prospect of a new album was enough to catapult them to a headline slot at Download festival. After 2006's Liberation Transmission the Lostprophets were on top of the world, they had their first number one album and in Rooftops and A Town Called Hypocrisy they had created their two biggest mainstream cross over singles to date, the world was at their feet. However things went downhill rapidly, the follow up album that should have secured their spot among's rock's elite failed to materialize. They headlined Download with the same old material and as another two years passed by the white hot hype that had surrounded Lostprophets had cooled. As a result the once eagerly anticipated The Betrayed announced itself with more of a whimper than a bang. The new fans gained on Liberation Transmission had faded away and the core audience had become disaffected with their poppier sentiments and the seemingly eternal delays. So why did The Betrayed take so long to arrive? Well the Lostprophets had the small matter of marriage and fatherhood to attend to. But now that they're back the question remains can the Lostprophets claw their way back to the top? Is The Betrayed relevant in 2010 or has the music world passed them by in their lengthy lay off?

The Betrayed fails to offer any firm answers in either direction. It becomes immediately apparent that Ian Watkins hasn't lost his touch for writing incredibly catchy and urgent sounding pop songs. Yet there is nothing on The Betrayed that has the breakout potential of Rooftops but that being said there's hardly a track that can't be described as infectious. Starting out on fire, the lyrically laughable but surprisingly touching If It Wasn't For Hate We'd Be Dead By Now feels like a decoy. With it's big booming drum arrangement and slow paced opening it gives the impression that the Lostprophets might be intent on expanding their sound, opting for a more considered approach. Lyrically it's cringe inducing but it's the kind of sloganeering that angst ridden teens will eat up, they certainly know their target demographic. Dstyr and Dstyr then bursts onto the scene, feeling immediately familiar, it incredibly dated but the slick bombast of the bass and one of Watkins' urgent hooks make it an early highlight. While it offers little interest or intrigue it's a perfect slice of mosh along pop that will tear festival fields to shreds come the summer. From then on in it feels like we're been teleported by to 2006 with a hybrid sound stuck somewhere between Liberation Transmission and Start Something. Lead single It's Not The End Of The World is a suitably generic affair, another cookie cutter LP track that doesn't have a forward thinking bone in it's body, this doesn't stop it from being a remarkably infectious fare. It's followed up by Where We Belong, another by the numbers single, this is about as close as Lostprophets come to a ballad with a tired and sentimental chorus. Despite feeling like your stuck in a time machine the bulk of The Betrayed is carried by these fast furious and damn catchy four minute pop jaunts; AC Ricochet, For He's A Jolly Good Felon and Streets Of Nowhere are all infinitely hummable affairs.

Despite an undoubted fun factor to Lostprophets work it's matched equally by a palpable cringe factor. While Watkins lyrics are certainly designed to stick in your head rather than provoke your thoughts you can't help but feel insulted by sloppy thoughtless fare like the chorus of juevenile pap Next Stop Afro City; "Get In The Car, Get In The Car, Keep Running But You Won't Get Far, We Got Velocity, We Wanna Be Atrocity". You can certainly imagine swathes of teenagers thinking this is the coolest thing they've ever heard, but nevertheless it's mind numbingly morose. Thankfully the guitars are so jagged and bouncy that you spend as much time head banging as you do rolling your eyes. The Lostprophets work their arses of to cram as much bombast and as many hooks as humanly possible into each track, and for this reason that The Betrayed manages to succeed on it's own terms. It's a shame that they haven't often much substance to match their cheap thrills, after all you'd have hoped that fatherhood and marriage might have given them some weighty inspiration. Instead we seem to find a band in denial, living in the past both lyrically and sonically; still throwing out empty slogans to tug at the heartstrings of Kerrang readers ("I've Got The Rope To Hang Your Jesus Even Higher") and persisting with a largely unaltered sound that would have started to sound tired in 2008 but sounds positively ancient in 2010.

So The Betrayed offers few answers to the vital questions being posed of the Lostprophets. The Betrayed is an album that does just enough to get by, it's a welcome comeback, crammed full of addictive throwaway pop songs that will sound fantastic live. While It's unlikely to rekindle the fire of 2006 it will certainly satisfy all those who decide to take the plunge with plenty of bang for your buck. However The Betrayed does nothing more than satisfy, it does the bare minimum, it's an enjoyably listen, but not a memorable one. It's not a classic by any stretch of the imagination, it's not daring, intriguing or a giant leap forward for a much loved band. It's the sound of a band playing it safe and living in the past. The Betrayed won't stand out in the crowd, it won't have people coming back again and again, and in ten years time not even Kerrang will be listing this as a classic. Lostprophets have decided to start a new decade by showing that they are still firmly rooted in the last, but as long as Ian Watkins can continue to write such undeniably catchy pop record then they will get another chance. Most importantly The Betrayed will serve as a stop gap, a passable album that they almost had to produce. After letting expectation and superstardom pass them by the release of The Betrayed seems like a band getting a monkey off their backs, finally releasing an album that has lingered over them for far too long. It will remind the world why they liked the Lostprophets in the first place, but if their next offering isn't a giant leap forward then they may find themselves consigned to irrelevance, from which they may never escape.

Tracks To Download: Dstyr & Dstryr, AC Ricochet & It's Not The End Of The World But I Can See It From Here

Stylo - Gorrilaz (feat. Mos Def, Womack)


It's been far too long since the last Gorrilaz record, of course it's not like we've been deprived, in between LP's Damon Albarn has brought us the gorgeous gloom of The Good, The Bad & The Queen and of course the small matter of the Blur reunion. Yet as good as these excursions were, they simply can't feel as revolutionary and thrilling as a Gorrilaz record. Gorrilaz are afterall Damon Albarn's definitively 21st Century outfit. He remains Britpop's one remaining pioneer willing to push sonic boundaries, always looking forward, only glancing back on occasion. So now we must ask ourselves; what does Stylo tell us of the future?

Well not too much, it's definitely distinct from Feel Good Inc. or Dare, the pace is more leisurely, the hooks less obvious, the sounds more subversive. Damon may have promised a pop revolution, but it seems that rather than offering slick hooks and shiny dance beats, he's offered us dark affecting soul. Teaming up with Bobby Womack of Womack to Womack fame, the Gorrilaz unleash a soft subtly groovy piece that remains soothingly understated until Womack's urgent and raspy croon grabs you with a sense of sheer urgency. Musically it sounds like John Carpenter sound tracking the old Streets Of Rage video games while a Womack makes a desperate cry for societies last shred of moral decency. Now that was a bit melodramatic but at times this track can garner a remarkable intensity, by contrasting a burbling low key beat, with Albarn and Mos Def's hushed performances against the brazen epicness of Womack chorus. In affect the Gorrilaz have created a dank dark but irresistibly sexy underbelly for an inglorious electronic city (I can't wait to see how they visualize this track in video form). The production is as sleak and sharp as ever, and it really does feel like Gorrilaz have created a world unto themselves. This isn't an obvious hit in any sense of the word, it's remarkably respectful to it's audience, and in a crazy kind of way by mining the sounds and imagery of the past the Gorrilaz have created another track that sounds positively futuristic. An absolute triumph of understatement and soul.

Embedding Has Been Disabled You Can Check The Track Out Here:


Animal - Ke$ha
(RCA 2010, Dr. Luke & Co.)

In the UK we've been overloaded with honesty in pop music, between Lily Allen and Amy Winehouse we've heard enough inner torment and deep dark confessions to fill a thousand therapy sessions, however in U.S. pop music honesty has been soarly lacking. In response to our taxi cab confessions the U.S. has offered up big label glitz, slick production and a steam of irresistible but defiantly detached superstars. So it was refreshing to hear Ke$ha admit in the build up to the release of Animal that she doesn't take herself seriously and doesn't consider herself an artist. She knows her music is stupid, superficial and largely vapid, she simply states she wants to make music for people to have fun to. Music that you can switch your brain off to and that "everyone" can enjoy. Ke$ha made it clear that she's aware that some artists take music seriously, but she's not one of them. Quite simply Ke$ha makes music to, in her words, "get fucked up" to. As her counterparts on this side of the Atlantic have discovered honesty can be endearing, and her self deprecating flippancy actually gives her a rebellious charm. It's a clever tactic, it's now redundant to call Ke$ha's music vapid; that's the point, that is afterall the joke, and if you're not in on it then I'm afraid the joke is on you.

Approaching Animal is difficult, it's almost too flawed to be believed. Ke$ha is in effect doing to music what Avatar did to cinema, replacing artistry and intellect with cheap yet utterly mesmerizing thrills and effects. Sonically, Animals falls somewhere between Lady Gaga and The Black Eyed Peas, Ke$ha has the sense of humour and the bravado of the former but the stupidity and vacuousness of the latter. Unfortunately for Ke$ha she lacks the creativity or song writing talent of Gaga, but thankfully she doesn't have the unwarranted sense of self importance displayed by Fergie and her pals. It takes you about thirty seconds to realize that Animal actually makes Avatar look organic. Every inch of this album feels laboured, a team of producers have slaved away tirelessly to make this album feel alive, recycling cliché after cliché, rehashing a series of overly tired beats, and cramming as many possible electro riffs and effects as possible into each and every track. The end result is something that sounds both incredible familiar but also too erratic and fast moving to ever even threaten to feel dull. Ke$ha voice is almost a parody of a pop star, she has no talent whatsoever as a vocalist but without shame, and without even an attempt to disguise it every last line is layered with auto-tune. It's disgusting at first, it almost feels like a slap in the listeners face, but after a while you get used to it, it becomes a fun in joke as she delivers each of her ridiculous sex rhymes. She plays up to it, making sure all the key punchlines are distorted with computer wizardry. The albums most endearing moment comes in Take It Off where Ke$ha tries to start a U2-eske "Wooah-oh" chorus, of course her voice can't hope to hit the note, but rather than auto-tuning she just leaves in her flat out tune cry. It's a genius moment, it makes you laugh and it makes you cringe as you imagine a drunken sket wailing away at the top of her voice in your local club, and that's exactly the effect she's going for.

Across the album that flies by at a remarkable pace, Ke$ha takes on an array of suitably vapid and morally bankrupt topics. On Stephen Ke$ha talks about flirting with her teacher and how she'd rather be bent over his desk than actually...you know...feeding to her intellect. After all who needs an education when you've got STDs and alcohol right?!....erh...right. Ke$ha must have been actively trying to pick the silliest lines imaginable as she declares "Up On The Chalk Board I Just Love You're Arse, Mmmn...When You Write Notes It Shake, Shake Shakes (Shake, Shake, Shakes)". You never get a chance to pause for breath and evaluate the ridiculousness you've just heard as before the line can even finishes Ke$ha is either faking an orgasm or squealing like a auto-tuned chipmunk. On Party At A Rich Dude's House she takes it to an new level where she actually can't wait for the chorus and starts screeching her own version of the tracks core riff. Of course by comparison her classroom naughtiness feels like a high brow concept in comparison to the subjects of the other twelve tracks; where Ke$ha talks about getting drunk (alot) getting fucked (alot) and bitches about other girls (a hell of alot). Ke$ha says her music is designed to be empowering, but judging by a night out in weatherspoon's it doesn't appear that young girls need any encouragement to get "fucked up", get fucked, throw up and pass out (and not necessarily in that order). While Animals may be on dubious moral footing, it's still manages to capture the moment, it's an album of excess and it's thoroughly contemporary, and in many ways it's a distressing snap shot of modern society. I doubt Ke$ha cares about the moral implications of her musings as she's clearly not one for in depth discussion. She makes this abundantly clear on Blah Blah Blah: "Don't Be A Little Bitch With Your Chit Chat, Just Show Me Where You're Dick's At". It's at this point you realize that Ke$ha's music isn't empowering, Gaga is empowering, Ke$ha is simply degrading to men and women a like. She plays down to every negative stereotype imaginable and does it without an inclining of remorse, and there's not a knowing wink and nudge in sight.

Ke$ha may be cringe inducing in so so many ways but they never manifests themselves as a weakness. Her album is so shameless in it's vane morosity that, as easy as it may be to undermine, your brain is never really engaged enough to feel insulted or patronized. Animal is so unrepentant putting such an emphasis on speed, insanity and shameless punchlines that you end up having too much fun to care about how disgusting Ke$ha really is. As Ke$ha says herself "Who Cares" she's happy "Pissing In The Don Pion" or letting her knickers drop. Practically any track from album opener Your Love Is My Drug to nineth track Backstabber could be released as singles. They are all insanely catchy and they all fly by in an instant, never giving you a second to think. It's only Animal's final five tracks that really let the side down. Dancing With My Tears In My Eyes is a dreary and dull ballad, Dinosaur is horribly misjudged and completely unlikeable, and album closer Animal is a manifestation of all the albums worst traits devoid of any charm. However this near intolerable fifteen minutes can't undermine and an album that is in effect a forty five minute cluster fuck between between 21st Century moral ambivalence and an army of auto pre-produced dancing robots. By the end you'll feel as though you've been gang raped by ignorance, and surprisingly its not an unpleasant experience. Animal is therefore a real surprise, a victory for bad taste and technology over creativity and intellect. For those who have already predetermined that Ke$ha is an abomination to music there is little on Animal to overcome these preconceptions, but for those with an open mind, there is plenty of cheap thrills and catchy hooks to be found on the surprisingly consistent Animal. All in all, Ke$ha and her team have unintentionally managed to produce a vital, damning and perhaps even definitive statement about the state of youth culture in 2010. It's horrifying but undeniably addictive, you have been warned.

Tracks To Download: Tik Tok, Stephan & Party At A Rich Dude's House

While of course I will be preserving my list, I won't rewrite or re-ordered, I did promise to do a list of corrections. As I stated when originally ordering my top 100 there were a some albums that I simply hadn't heard and Some that had yet to be released. So here I will list those albums that should have made the list but for whatever reason were overlooked. I'll also provide a rough estimation of where they would have sloted into the list.


20-10. Yankee Foxtrot Hotel - Wilco
(Nonesuch 2002, Jim O'Rourke)

The most glaringly obvious omission from my original list, but I did promise my list would be an honest one, and until November this year I hadn't actually heard Wilco's heartbreaking and ultimately definitive statement; Yankee Hotel Foxtrot. It still feels like a coming of age record of a band who I had dismissed in the past, this was the moment when Wilco broke through creating both complex and challenging arrangements and beautiful albeit disaffecting pop music. Opener I Am Trying To Break Your Heart set the scene, it was a big wide open desolate space that grew more sinister with each churning sawing buzz of instrumentation, but was all tied together by a simple effective hook. The heart breaking stakes were raised to raw unrepentant levels with the haunting Radio Cure but balanced by the Springsteen-eske jangle of dissarming War On War, and the slick folk pop of Kamera. The albums most well known track and ultimately it's own magnum opus was Jesus Etc. it encapsulated a little bit of everything that makes Wilco great. A charming but tragic sense of jauxaposition, overt tragic references to 9/11 counter balanced by a heart-warming and surprisingly uplifting chorus, and central narrative. The track and the album is deeply conflicted, and that is where the albums strengths lie, you're never quite sure whether you should cry or wryly smile. It remains one of the decades most powerful works.

70-65. The Fame Monster - Lady Gaga
(Interscope 2009, Darkchild)

I've spoken at great lenght about the LP in the last two months, with both a review and an entry in the 2009 album of the year list, so rather than rehashing the same territory I'll offer the contextual justification for Gaga's entry. Aside from the brilliance of this thirty minute pop masterwork, Gaga has undoubtedly become one of this generation defining pop icons, and the final year of this decade was dominated by her and her unmistakable iconography. The Fame Monster not only gave her a sense of consistency laking on The Fame it gave her an album that not even the greatest sceptic could pick holes in with any hope of maintaining a shred of credibility. Somewhere between Bad Romance and Speechless Gaga announced on to the world that she would now be considered next to M.I.A, Animal Collective and The Strokes rather than with Beyonce and Leona Lewis.

95-80. Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga - Spoon
(Merge 2007, Mike McCarthy)

In 2007 Spoon emerged from the studio with yet another album of remarkable quality, but there was something a bit different about Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga it felt like a band on roll who finally hit the jackpot after going awfully close so many times. Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga rode the middle ground beautifully between artistic flair and mainstream addictiveness. It proved to be layered with hit after potential hit but more importantly it was caked in a heart ache with a dark detached sense of humour and a tense emotional atmosphere. The Ghost Of You Lingers is haunting, it's almost unpleasant to listen to but it's too darn engrossing and you find yourself utterly absorbed. Don't Make Me A Target is one of this decade's finest tracks and never fails to hit it's mark, elsewhere Rhythm & Soul is simply infectious and is arranged with a deft hand to get the most out of it's relative sparse arrangement. Britt Daniels achieved a mighty feat delivering a lyrical and vocal performance that was both understated and yet utterly captivating, you hang on his every word as these terse and surprisingly catchy arrangements that get you foot tapping and head bobbing at an alarming rate. By the time you reach the brilliant Underdog you're resistance has been thoroughly broken by this perfectly judged and irresistible affair.

80-60. Warm Heart Of Africa - The Very Best Of
(Green Owl 2009, Radioclit)

Another album who I have written about at great length, for those looking for an explanation I point you in the direction of the Album of the year 2009 column, it should answer all you're questions and stop me repeating myself.







Subtractions:

The Lily Allen Bootleg Collection: Obviously this was not a proper album to begin with, and can be found for the most part on the expanded addition of Alright Still which should have placed at least thirty places higher.

Vida La Vida: As I said when writing it's entry it was lucky to make the cut, and reflected the intentions of a big group to expand their sound, but in the cold light of day it simply doesn't measure up.

Only By The Night: The album that made Kings Of Leon Superstars importance is unquestionable but artistically it can't hold a candel to the likes of Ga Ga Ga Ga or Fame Monster.

The Bake Sale: Cool Kids may be one of my favourite acts, and there debut more than lived up to the hype, but on an artistic and influential level it just doesn't fit the bill.

After my career retrospective on Oasis last year, I've always wanted to do another, it need to be an act whose back catalogue is not overly analysed, whose career has had it's ups and downs and tells and compelling story. Furthermore I wanted an artist whose music has not always been of consistent A grade quality, after all it would be impossible to do justice to a Radiohead/Beatles run of albums in just one paragraph. So after some consideration I chose Manson, so much of his work has been brushed over, forgotten, everyone focuses on the character, the shock, the circus that surrounds his work but rarely is his music considered. While I will of course indulge in the story telling aspects I'll try and focus on the sounds and the singles. I've always felt Manson to be overrated and underrated at the same time, of course in recent years he's fallen so far he can seemingly do nothing right, I think even Gordon Brown feels sorry for one Brian Warner right now. So let's get down to business shall we?


Portrait Of An American Family
(Nothing 1994, Trent Reznor)

1994's Portrait Of An American Family felt like a real tangible achievement, not musically or as an artistic statement, instead the mere fact of it's existence proved a triumph in itself. The fact that it was remotely listenable and spawned a string of semi-classic singles was a near miracle. It took five years for Marilyn Manson to make this album, and were it not for Trent Reznor's decision to attempt to salvage something passable from a disaster the world may have never been introduced to Mr. Manson. As a result of Trent's rescue job and multiple reworkings the album feels over produced and the use of samples while clever often feel more like plastering over the cracks than a coherent creative direction. It's worth remembering at this stage Marilyn Manson was clearly a band and not a one man show, Warner's hallmarks were in place, but this was a work spawned from a collective imagination. It still an enjoyable listen to this day, it may lack subtly, and the grand vision associated with later Manson efforts, but the shock tactics still work (albeit comedically), this still feels like a classic haloween record. The album opener Family Trip sets the scene as we're then taken on a Misfit meets Industrial horror romp. No signs of Bowie yet, but if there's one thing that's clear from his debut it's that Manson was a ready made hitmaker Lunchbox, Dope Hat, Snake Eyes & Sissies and of course the album's true standout work Cake and Sodomy hinted at Manson mainstream potential. A patchy but promising start.

Note: The Smells Like Children remix and covers album will be skipped over, however it is worth mentioning as it gave Manson his first big hit with his cover of the Eurythmics Sweet Dreams and soar the band adopt the goth aesthetic.


Antichrist Superstar
(Nothing 1996, Trent Reznor)

You could have been mistaken when listening to the excellent Tourniquet for concluding that Marilyn Manson had dropped the pretence and actually transformed into an Alice Cooper tribute act, then of course the I Spit On Your Grave meets Ministry chorus comes in and it leaves Cooper looking more the Evil Dead trilogy in comparison to his X-rated holocaust. Yes Manson always had a sense of humour, but this record was without doubt his scariest, musically it was a meat grinder, the gruesome but maniacally humorous cannibal production line run by miss Helana Bonham Carter in Tim Burton's Sweeney Todd. Behind the aesthetics lay Manson's masterpiece, perhaps creatively it fell short of his lofty ambitions, but the sheer drive and scope of the undertaking meant that this was an album that couldn't fail, it would be Manson's definitive statement. Playing out like a grim opera, Manson tells the story of the lowly worm as he rises to super stardom before he himself is transformed into the kind of monster he used to despise, albeit a bit more psychotic. Of course lyrically it's all rather vague and Manson tends to favour punch lines and posturing over any kind of structured narrative. The hits stack up regardless with Beautiful People and Tourniquet becoming instant classics, but the real surprise is the tightness of the product overall. It's far too long, but it's rarely less than catchy, consistently funny and eternally menacing. Tracks like Wormboy pack enough laughs and shocks to make up for longer slogs like the forgetable Cryptorchild. The album's real weakness is it's Goth-Industrial aesthetic, the key board riffs simply aren't hooky enough and their is a lack of crunching riffs and killer solos to take certain tracks out of third gear, it instead relies on the wall of noise approach demonstrated on the not unsuccessful Mister Superstar. Regardless the album achieved it's ultimate objective it turned Marilyn Manson into public enemy number one, cemented the bands own mythology and internal dialogue into public's consciousness, and giving birth to the AntiChrist Superstar.

Mechanical Animals
(Nothing 1998, Michael Beinhorn)

Goodbye Reznor hello Diamond Dogs. Yes without regard for subtly Mechanical Animals saw the arrival of Manson's biggest influence. Mr. Bowie took centre stage but he brought with him a touch of Floyd, a dollop of Roxy Music and even a flirtation with Eno and The Knack (I'm not joking listen carefully to New Model No.15). Yes in 1998 Manson turned away from the maniacal torture device that was Antichrist Superstar and embraced with open arms glam rock, and in the process he made his most mainsteam effort to date, and his best. What Manson loses in Menance he more than makes up for with genuine tunefulness. Every inch of this album is addictive and surprisingly consistent. Consistency after all has always been Manson ultimate weakness he's never been able to sustain his music or creative quality across and entire album, luckily here he succeeds. Mechanical Animals is yet another concept album an the prequal to Antichrist Superstar, half the album is performed as Marilyn Manson and half as Omega & The Mechanical Albums. Of course the end result was not in the same league as the Spiders from Mars but it wasn't a bad effort at immortality. This album with it's lush accessible glam aesthetic would also see the birth of many Manson trademarks; somewhere between the brilliant Rock Is Dead and the less thrilling Posthuman are all the major gimmicks that would be repeated relentlessly for the next decade, both Mobscene & Fight Song were born of their parentage. The Speed Of Pain shows new scope for Manson as he attempts a genuine epic starting off somewhere between Wish You Were Here and Exit Music (For A Film) and ending on a glamified rockship to the stratosphere. Unfortunately while this maybe Manson's most cohesive work it's not without it's stinkers I Don't Like The Drugs (But The Drugs Like Me) and I Want To Dissapear are nothing but half baked ideas and empty posturing. Ultimately Mechanical Animals added depth and creativity to the one dimensional assault of Antichrist Superstar but unfortunately served to alienate large swathes of Manson's core fanbase. Thankfully ten years removed from controversy it stands as Manson most interesting stand alone listen.

Holy Wood (In The Shadow Of The Valley Of Death)
(Nothing 2000, Marilyn Manson & Dave Sardy)

When deciding which is Manson greatest album it becomes a straight shoot out between Mechanical Animals and Holy Wood. The former offered a much needed expansion of and diversion from Manson's core sound creating a more cohesive and intriguing work; Holy Wood sees Manson treading the middle ground between Mechanical Animals and Antichrist Superstar. It doesn't offer anything particularly new and yet again it's overly long but it does offer Manson's best collection of tracks to date. Disposable Teens, The Nobodies, The Fight Song and The Love Song formed the best run of singles in Manson's career and even the filler was marginally better than that seen on Antichrist Superstar. Holy Wood was yet another concept album, the third and final part of a three part story arc, and believe it or not Holy Wood was actually yet another prequal this time to Mechanical Animals. This was Manson rage at the amoral Hollywood culture and conservative America reaching it's peak, both as a critical statement and an artistic concept. Unfortunately, this is ground that had been so thoroughly trodden on the previous two LPs that it rather seemed Manson had run out of inspiration and had become a one trick pony. However realistically it seemed like Manson was finding new more complex ways of express his theme artistically, he had nothing new to say, he had simply found a way of expressing himself in a more articulate and dramatic form. As a result we are presented with tracks like the brilliant Target Audience and the eternally catchy The Nobodies, which further explore the theme of the worm. Manson also reaches a new melodramatic high on In The Valley Of The Shadow Of Death. However whereas Mechanical Animals felt like an exploration of a new found Zietgiest and a celebration of a spiritual godfather at times Holy Wood feels more like cartoon Bowie karaoke. At the end of the day it's a tough call, if you prefer the raving figurehead in the war against conservatism then Holy Wood is for you, if you prefer slick grooves and nilhistic romance then Mechanical Animals is the clear winner. Holy Wood was bloated but sporadically brilliant and it will remain the fan's favourite, the creative peak of Manson central concept but it can never match the impact or originality of his original 1996 mission statement, and that is it's ultimate failing.

The Golden Age Of Grotesque
(Nothing 2003, Manson & Time Skold)

It's ironic that on an album that has absolutely nothing new to offer and no original thought on display whatsoever that in pointing out the obvious the critic manages to fall into the same trap as Manson himself. We find ourselves constantly repeating one another and making the same observations, I'm obliged to point out that not only is the excellent Mobscene an amalgamation of Manson previously successful singles but it also pinches Faith No More's Cheerleader hook from Be Aggressive. Furthermore I have draw attention to the album's opening line "Everything Has Been Said Before, Nothing Left To Say Anymore", this is of course Manson's own recognition that his own shtick is thoroughly worn out. Another exploration of conservatism, greed and religion would be beyond tedious. Instead Manson offers the New Shit which sounds the same as the old shit but this time stripped of any shred of intellectual integrity. In it's place are ridiculously lines and embarrassing raps as seen on Use Your Fist And Not Your Mouth where Manson proclaims "I'm On A Campaign For Pain, And When I Get Elected I'll Wipe The White Off Your House, And The Smile Off Your Face". Manson seems to be simultaneously making light of himself and his audience. It's a dangerous tactic but endearing one as the first thirty minutes are too hummable and too much damn fun to deny, no matter how brain dead and intellectual bankrupt it may be. Of course by 2003 Manson was no longer scary, and he'd become more of a joke, and being a smart business man he realized he had to embrace the silliness rather than swim against the tide. One question remained after this passable offering where was he to go next, and would his audience stick around to find out?

Eat Me, Drink Me
(Interscope 2007, Manson & Skold)

Eat Me, Drink Me was a landmark record in many ways, it was the first time in over a decade that Manson actually strectched his vocal range, and yes stretched is the word. Manson's croon and screech is dark and raspier than ever before, and it gives the album a sweeping Spaghetti Western feel allowing Putting Holes In Happiness to sound like a lost classic and a should be snoozer like If I Was Your Vampire become a great fallen romance. And to be honest it's about damn time, over the course of his career Manson stretch his sound to the extremes and got about as much milage out of his limmited bag of tricks as humanly possible but he never expanded his vocal range. It's been the same growl and screech combo, he's never developed range, and this is arguably why he's never been able to transcend his limitations. Eat Me, Drink Me really should have been a hit, the grand spaciousness of his early work has returned, tracks echo like true epics and the sound has a raw and yet cavernous depth, but the whole enterprise is undermined by Manson himself. His lyrics are more personal and less thematic which is a welcome improvement but he's simply a bore, he's learnt no new phrases, he's never developed a convincing falsetto, he's got nothing. Luckily he still has a flare for the dramatic and can write a hell of hit (Heart Shaped Glasses deserves far more acclaim than it garnered), but people were bored of Manson and rightly so, he was old news, and he wasn't going to change. He was lazy and even his formidable live reputation dissapeared. Eat Me, Drink Me could have been a breakthrough instead it was a headlong dive into irrelevance, which is a shame, it deserved far better.

The High End Of Low
(Interscope 2009, Sean Beavan)

Ah there had been glimmers of hope on both The Golden Age Of Grotesque and Eat Me, Drink Me that Manson could evolve, on both albums he failed, sure it was the same old stick, but the former suggested he could be a tongue in cheek Goth-answer to the Kaiser Cheifs, and the latter suggested that he could turn his shock rock into a big sweeping Western melodrama. Unfortunately these were brief flirtatious, the last desperate moments of life before Manson would slip into a coma from which he may never awake. The High End Of Low was so creatively bankrupt it hardly bears talking about, why does he insist on being the Antichrist Superstar, it's 2009! Eminem isn't shocking anymore so how does Manson think he can terrify conservatives. He's old news, when Nick Griffin is on question time there things far more terrifying to worry about than a guy who dresses like the '90s never ended. Pretty As A Swastika says it all, was anyone remotely shocked reading that title? No, was anyone remotely intrigued? Of course not.Was anyone more than a little embarrassed? Don't worry you're not the only one. Manson needs help, he needs to go away, he needs to grow up, he needs to find a new voice and a new zietgiest, self promotion can only get you so far. It maybe too late in the day but perhaps he could team up with fellow midlife crisis victim Trent Reznor and come back with something truly revolutionary, or maybe it's just time he called it a day for good before what's left of his legacy is destroyed. Another performance like that at Download '09 and he will find himself with no fanbase left whatsoever.

Endnote: So there we have it the slow decline of a one of the most prominent pop culture icons of the last twenty years. He went from an Alice Cooper shock rocker to the Antichrist Superstar before settling into Bowie Idol hybrid, from then on in the rot set in and he declined into total irrelevance due largely to his own stubbornness and lack of creativity. So what is Manson true legacy, what is his best album? It's of course it's Lest We Forget, his greatest hits album, he was always best as a hit maker, and for all his artist endeavours his substance could never match his style and it's his hits not his creative legacy that will endure alongside the controversy. I am left with one question? Why did he insist on such bloodly long albums? If he condense every album into less than 40 minutes I may have had a very different story to tell.

Yes it took an eternity, yes it's the middle of winter, yes it's still snowing but finally the most perfect slice of summer time afro pop has been released. Earlier this month I awarded the album of the same name with my 2009 Album Of The Year award and now one of it's finest cuts has a suitable feel good video to help us through the winter misery. I've review this track to death, let's just sit back and Enjoy:





Well tremendous news for all music fans, Suede have decided to reform for what appears to be a one off gig in aid of the Teenage Cancer Fund. While they have yet to confirm the date of this performance, they have nevertheless promised that they will go forward with it. Brett Anderson always seem reluctant towards a potential reunion so this comes as welcome news. It seems unlikely that this will last beyond a single appearance, and feels like another reunion in the Blur/Led Zeppelin mould, which is probably for the best. I wouldn't be surprised to see them turn up at either Glastonbury or more likely Reading festival where they have a rich history as headliners as both Suede and the Tears.


Suede will of course be remembered as one of Brit Pop's biggest hitters, however they never quite fit the bill. They were camper, more emotive more in tune with the Smiths' emotional legacy while still retaining the Stone Roses' capacity for the pop single, and of course a healthy dollop of classic Bowie glam. Their first three albums were met with universal acclaim and rarely put a foot wrong throughout the nineties. So to celebrate, here are some classic performances of some of their most successful singles.

Beautiful Ones - Reading '97



So Young - Reading Festival '97



Animal Nitrate - Love And Poison Tour '93



Trash - Uncut Show in Camdem '99

Vampire Weekend @

Somerset House

I'm never one to turn down a free gig, especially when it's the brilliant Vampire Weekend offering to showcase some choice cuts from their sophmore LP Contra. Now for those of you who don't know, Somerset House while a regular venue for gigs, is anything but you're typical arena. The first fifty people are given tickets to watch the gigs while ice skating, yes Ice Skating, and rather than performing on a stage in front of the adoring masses, they were instead playing from the balcony of one London's most beautiful Georgian houses. The crowd was broken up into sections by an ice rink, and a series of classical statues and fountains, with classical architecture enclosing the audience on all sides. The scene was more reminiscent of the pope's address to St. Peter's Square than a dirty dank Brixton Academy rock show.

A unique atmosphere was created. Due to it's location in central London, in close proximity to universities and local businesses, the volume was hardly blaring, but a soft sound was far more suited to the occasion. Furthermore being a free gig it drew a mixed crowd, a big passionate crowd at the front, and then a mamoth amount of passers by, intrigued new comers and confused skaters. They certainly drew a crowd in the thousands, and given two days notice I was rather surprised, and impressed with their pulling power. Of course this unusual fan base and the distance didn't suit great crowd interaction but Erza did his best to connect to a crowd so far away. Vampire Weekend were booked to play six tracks but in fact treated the crowd to a hour long set showing off a mix of old and new.

They opted for the softer elements of Contra which seemed a wise choice given the occasion. White Sky opened proceedings and was just as ethereal and though provoking as on record, Holiday gained new life live a potential summer festival anthem and California English also seemed somehow grander live, it may have been the occasions and the surrounding but it was a perfect fit. Horchata the track I was most looking forward to hearing was tragically cut short when the generator cut suddenly (I would be reviewing The Road later but unfortunately I had a power cut at the cinema too), the first half seem tantalizing but the power literally blew as they were about to let the west African drums kick in. Somehow this only added to the bizarre anachronistic charm of the whole affair. Paradoxically as this was both a more stripped down and intimate affair, despite the distance, we were treated to a more casual version of M83 but without the orchestral arrangement it's could only disappoint. A-Punk and Cousins provided a riotous mid section to the gig, and when those two tracks are unleashed back to back in the summer festival fields while be ripped to shreds. Oxford Comma and of course a heart warming and surprisingly effective rendition of Cape Cod Cowasa stole the show and were ideal for a cool summer's night.

Despite the power cuts, a crowd made mostly of new comers and a quiet sound system, this free gig remained a triumph. Set in beautiful surroundings, and playing a collection of shimmering feel good calypso pop they captured the mood and essence of the occasion perfectly. It's not the best gig I've ever been to, far from it, but it was never meant to be, it was an experience, a hybrid and on it's own terms it succeeded with a rough around the edges charm. The evidence certainly suggests that given a bigger stage and free from volume constraints Vampire Weekend will once again run rampant across the world's biggest stages, now we just have to cross our fingers and hope for sun (Isle Of Wight can't come around fast enough).

Live At Reading - Nirvana

(Geffen 2009)

I've been trying to get my hands on this DVD for a long time. It's always fascinated me for two reasons: firstly like so many other music fans across the world the chance to see a legendary performance in all it's glory, with a clear and crisp picture from a band whose cultural impact is beyond repute and who, despite a thorough mining of their back catalogue has scant documentation of their live experience. The second reason, is more location specific, for me and thousands of others, Reading Festival was my first experience of the festival culture, infact Reading pops more "festival virgins' " cherries a year than any other music festival. It has a rich history in British culture, and the chance to see the a vintage performance from start to finish from the time that tv forgot remains a mouth watering prospect.

I have to admit that before reviewing this DVD my love for Nirvana was at an all time low, I've always thought they were overrated (please bare with me), their cultural influence and importance is unquestionable, but I felt as time moved on more and more holes appeared in their musically legacy. I always suspect that perhaps in ten years time a critical backlash would occur, once we were several generations away from Kurt Cobain's tragic death. So while I was fascinated by the whole notion of this DVD, I was expecting to be thoroughly tired of an overly played, and over stretched back catalogue (for those who don't know this performance was before the brilliant and disturbing In Utero). Yet all my fears were brushed away within seconds. When Kurt was rolled onto stage in a wheel chair, parodying the then recent and rampant media speculation about his mental health, adorning a blonde wig and hospital gown before struggling to his feet to sing "Well Love Sometimes It Is A River"; only to collapse and then launch into a visceral and thrilling version of Breed. I'm unashamed to say, I instantly feel in love with this DVD and Nirvana all over again.

The first half of the performance sees Kurt and co launch into a no thrills set of unrelenting explosive and utterly irresistible hits. Breed gives way to Drain You which merges seamlessly into Aneursym before the big guns Silver, Lithium, Come As You Are and About A Girl destroy even the most reluctant critics will. It's at this point that you realize what made Nirvana so brilliant, and what makes them an enduring force, beyond the iconic photographs, the wonderful ideals, the tragic death, behind all the theatre lies a collection of the greatest pop songs ever written. And that is what they are, infectious irresistible pop songs, they work on every level, the choruses are so well pitched so subversive and of chorus the riffs and fills feel like sky scrapers crashing to earth, quite simply this is the sort of music that makes you want to pick up a guitar and start playing. There's something so earthy, so simplistic and so loveable about these tracks that they strike a chord on both a deep emotional level and on a superficial catchy bounce around the room level.

Now as the gig goes on, you get a real sense of intimacy, the stage banter from Kurt is awkward, shy and slightly reclusive, but he seems happy and genuinely thrilled to be onstage, the camera work is excellent, it almost accidentally recalls Stop Making Sense as the audience is hardly ever shown (more due to lighting and camera angles than directorial intent). You are instead thrust into the madness, like a side of stage celebrity given the ultimate V.I.P. backstage pass for the extreme close up view. While at times you may wish to see the crowd going bananas, you're in fact given a refreshing insight devoid of the usual paint by numbers festival camera work. Krist Novoselic is clearly in an ironic mood, with some goofy onstage banter (including a terrible joke), but it's all very playful, if not deeply insightful. It's after all refreshing to see a band so associated with tragedy and turmoil, having a laugh and kicking out the jams. There are some great touches thrown in, Kurt's decision to play Boston's More Than A Feeling before Smell's Like Teen Spirit is a real highlight revealing the pinched riff and toying with his detractors, diffusing their wrath by knowingly poking fun at himself. It's all great stuff.

The second half of the gig is the real collectors item and a real bold statement, after firing through the hits at record pace (only matched by a Manic Street Preachers or Beck show) Nirvana then indulge their own dirty scratchy indie credentials. Opting to showcase tracks from the forth coming In Utero, obvious highlights now include All Apologise and Dumb but this was daring stuff for a major headline slot and their biggest ever live show (60,000 attendance). In between their new ones are a mix of B-sides and cuts from Bleach, it's suits both the show and the DVD perfectly as it shows off Nirvana's real visual and audio aesthetic. They go back to their roots with harsher more abrasive yet still eternally hummable punk. It's not quite hardcore but it's doesn't quite feel like grunge either, it's like getting the chance two see two gigs; '92's Nirvana kings of the pop charts and '89's Nirvana bright young independent upstarts with a fist full of tracks and few covers. They boldly finish their set with a seven track encore, with three fascinating covers, which are both extremely rare and incredibly revealing. It's always great to see a band willing to reveal their influences and enjoying the work of the artists who formed their child hood heroes. Fang's The Money Will Roll Right In reveals Kurt's love of the irresistible pop hook, The Wipers cover shows off Cobain's punk credentials while the Shocking Blue cover is a real surprise and a great thrill.

The show has it's truly touching moments, highlighted by Kurt's appeal to the crowd to say "We Love You Courtney" after her name was dragged through the mud in the tabloids in the run up to this gig. He is clearly taken aback by the crowds enthusiastic response, he was generally touched, his facial expression was priceless, and so will you when you see this heart warming moment. After the show Kurt meets a fan with Leukaemia and while shy and a little socially awkward comes across as a genuinely nice guy. Of course even in this brief meeting with a star struck fan we still get a glimpse into Kurt's dispear as he ask the fan if he likes Courtney, he responds enthusiastically, only for Kurt to reply with a tone of sheer resignation "Not many people do these days". These moments are far more revealing and emotive than the "rock and roll" instrument destruction that concludes the live show, it's captivating but rather forced, the real eye catcher is Kurt's decision to play Star Spangled Banner while the rest of the band tear shit up, Kurt seems like he's on another planet drifting away as Krist labels him sarcastically a "nationalist", again it's thoroughly fascinating stuff.

As a package does this DVD have any real weaknesses? No, it only leaves you wanting more, the DVD/CD's biggest flaw is inescapable; it's simply a shame they played Reading before In Utero not after as there are so many true masterpieces that were left unplayed (Frances Farmer Will Have Her Revenge on Seattle immediately springs to mind). Of course this is hardly a complaint more a tragic regret, this was Nirvana at the peak of their powers, as a world straddling giant, of course In Utero would see dark creative high point, but unfortunately the Nirvana of '93 was sadly less healthy than the unstoppable monster that was on the Reading stage in '92. The only other failure is Sliver, it still serves as a classic singalong, but it lacks oomphf live and devoid of any bombast. It's the one and only disappointment in a near flawless set. Of course Nirvana don't play around with any of their arrangements and other than some interesting lead ins there's nothing unexpected, no surprises, or one off new varients, yet this hardly matters, that was never Nirvana's style. It's hard to pick a highlight from a set that is both incredibly strong and continually fascinating but it's hard to look past a earth shattering performance of Negative Creep and a mesmerizing debut of Dumb. Perhaps the DVD's greatest strength is in fact it's lack of sentimentality, there's no documentary portion, nor diatribe about Kurt's spiritual role in rock, no talk of tragedy, it's all fun, just a straight rock show the way it should be. Ultimately this is a DVD that all music fans should see, even a skeptic like me couldn't help but fall in love with Nirvana all over again and immediately "Pick Up My Guitar And Play, Just Like Yesterday".

Tracks To Download: Negative Creep, Dumb, Breed, Drain You, Annueryism & Let The Money Roll Right In.

So for once I thought I'd be ahead of the curve, sure I got my Arctic Monkeys and Vampire Weekend reviews up well ahead of release but alas the monthlies beat me to it. However tonight I genuinely had the opportunity to brake some news for once, as earlier tonight M.I.A posted her latest cryptic could be video on her twitter page (http://twitter.com/_M_I_A_), however I decided to go and make myself some dinner, and within the an hour Pitchfork and Pretty Much Amazing beat me to it. Oh well I'm not bitter, what really matters is that one of this generations most talented, influential and revolutionary artists is about to return with a new album, and this could well be our first taste.


Now at this stage there is no news as to whether is this indeed the first single or just a promo video, but either way it's pretty exciting. So what does the winner of this blog's album of the decade have to offer? Well her work with Major Lazer suggested that motherhood would take centre stage and be expressed through M.I.A's usual worldly political rhymes. This first potential taste of her new album however is more opaque, it's spacious open and surprisingly trippy. Lyrically it's light, open and expansive. M.I.A positions herself flying around exploring her own thoughts with a sweet sharp cry that's balanced between bitter and dreamy. She'd rather fly and around in space, cut herself off, be with whom she loves than talk about what's on the news. It immediately recalls the lyrical approach of Lennon and Harrison before exploding into a blaring menical laughter, and later and almost military march. Overall it's a hard track to gauge, it certainly doesn't feel like a single, but it does encourage you to open you're mind somwhere between the crunching blaring effects, the birdy tweets and the siren like holla of M.I.A, yet it's also harsh and abrasive. It's promising, it's grows with every listen, it feels like a natural, and possible tremendous album opener. I'd love to hear this in the context of an album, but equally this might not be a single, and it really has the feel of an urgent public service announcement. There's Space For Ol' Dat I See sounds vital and I can't help but adore the sentiment that "Gravity is my enemy", M.I.A has rarely sounded this beautiful, even if she's singing from the heart of the electro swamp. I'm already pumped for the forth coming album.

UPDATED: It has since come out that this track is officially titled Space Odyssey and is in reaction to her ongoing feud with the New York times and it's portray of Sri Lanka as a haven. I'm not going to get into Sri Lanka politics as it's no my area of expertise (I'm a terrorism, civil liberties, US foriegn policy, India, UK, Ivory Coast expert, Iraq expert) but it does give the track grave new meaning. It still works on the level I described previously, a perfect Harrison-eske open your mind jam, but now it has dark connotations with that release being death, and the brilliant line "Gravity is my enemy" serving as a clear reference to the hangman's noose. The freedom and carefree attitude would just death being an escape from life, and the more abrasive sections of the track provide a stark contrast, life and death, consciousness and unconsciousness. Now does any of this effect the songs brilliance? Of course not, it works on both levels simultaneously, it only serves to add depth to an already outstanding track.





Contra - Vampire Weekend
(XL 2009, Rostam Batmanglij)

What were we all expecting from the Vampire Weekend, how exactly would they follow up their self titled debut, the signals seem mixed. Their debut mixed a warm cosy charm, with a genuine intellectual wit and a penchant for inventive arrangements. There debut also had it's cringe worthy moments, it was more than a little rough around the edges and was given the slapdash "preppy" label by the media. Nonetheless it was a success both critically and commercially but what next? I was thrilled by Erza Koenig work on The Very Best Of's Warm Heart Of Africa and hoped for a broadening of their already cosmopolitan sun drench pop sound. Other's were hoping for irresistible anthems to match Oxford Comma and A-Punk, and first single Cousins didn't disappoint. It was a lightening quick jaunt with a feral mad cap energy that was barely contained by Erza disarming vocal. It displayed a surprisingly visceral edge, it packed a hell of a punch (or should that be crunch), it was short sharp and concentrated, like all the world's new years celebrations happening at once, all the dancing, the fire works, the debauched acts all squeezed into two minutes. It was however completely deceiving, while Contra is layered with sharp and surprisingly immediate pop music, it's far more expansive than it's first single dared to suggested.

The time Erza spent with Radioclit immersed in the sound of Malawi is immediately apparent, alongside their beach house dreamy pop melodies, art house angles and university romance laid the sound of pounding West African drums and the joyous chanting harmonies. Album opener Horchata rumbles out like an African sun rise rolling atop a see of rumbling drums and bursting out in a unified euphoric cry. It's quite the album opener, it may certainly challenge some as the string section emerges playfully augmented by xylophone before the thundering drum beat returns to drown Erza frantic semi-rapped vocals. It's a beautiful cacophony of noise to start the album and underneath it all are those killer couplets that immbed themselves in you're subconscious; "In December, Drinking Horchata, I'd Look Psychotic, In A Balaclava". This is new for Vampire Weekend, music that charms and challenges in equal measure, similar to Cousins there is a base level of immediacy and no shortage of hooks, but the music arrangements are more obtuse, they take longer to reveal themselves and climaxes in a furious power crescendos. These crescendos provide Contra's undoubted high points, they conjured these truly euphoric moments that so few mainstream bands fail create these days, between the ice cool electro warbles and chronically uncool but wondrous uplifting horns it's the joyous escapist cry of "we could Run" that will steal listeners hearts on Run.

Fear not, the Vampire Weekend have not lost their touch for the soothing sunshine pop that won them so many fans in the first place. White Sky is so calming and relaxing you can just close you eyes and imagine yourself lying on a beach in Barbados and watching the world goes by as Erza asks you to "Sit On The Park Wall, Ask All The Right Questions: Why Are The Horses Racing The Taxis in the winter, Look up at the buildings imagine who might live there". It's a reflective an beautiful track that builds to a chorus where Erza is overcome by his own inquisitiveness and explodes into a sonic orgasm of yelps and coos. It may lack a conventional hook but it'll charm your pants off on a single listen. Diplomat's Son is equally charming, it's the albums longest track, and has a west Africa meets the Carribean vibe. The track evolves at it's own pace, combining electro squelch with soft coos. At first it's almost too playful, it verges on self parody, but it's held together by Erza delightful vocal, it feels sparse, more open ended than anything on their debut. It's a real mood piece, and it leads into the cooling emotional closer I Think You're Contra. Which feels like a risk, it's emotionally powerfully, and heartbreaking in it's honesty, a true epic, but it will test their new found audience patience, hopefully they'll stick around long enough to uncover the beauty in these tracks slower pace pieces.

Of course this is the Vampire Weekend and it's those areas between the heavenly ballads and the mad cap arrangements that they never fail to impress, and like their staggering debut Contra is loaded with potential singles. Giving Up The Gun simply has to be released, it manages to feel both familiar and daring at the same time, it's rumbling beat is too groovy to resist and the Diplo/M.I.A electro horns give it a harsh contemporary edge. Yet unlike their previous singles it's more expansive at nearly five minute, the track grows changes moods, and is both startling immediate and knowingly epic. This marks the key to Vampire Weekend's sound, they combine of so many elements, styles and sounds, to create a hazy summer's day charm, it's feels lazy, smooth and dreamy, when infact it's often frantic, heartbreaking and occasional sinister (give Holiday a listen). It's a contradiction, so many of much of their core sound is simply not new, or revolutionary, yet when they blend it all together in their own abstract manner and base it all around Erza irresistible croon we're left with a sound that is both distinct, challenging and at times shameless uncool, but never less than brilliant. Contra ultimately feels carefree, self assured and almost too beautiful, too relaxing, it's a such joy to listen to you almost drift away into your own day dream world. While Contra's off centre arrangements will continue to alienate Vampire Weekend from true mainstream dominance; they continue to make the world's best pure pop music, and Contra is a worthy successor to one of this decade's great debuts.

Tracks To Download: Giving Up The Gun, Horchata & White Sky

So after much delay the time has finally arrived, the waiting is over, it's time to unveil the Cultural Evaluation Facilities' Album of Year, did you guess it? Somehow I doubt it, I bet you thought it would be the our wondrous runner up the transcendent....


2. Merriweather Post Pavilion - Animal Collective
(Domino 2009, Ben H. Allen)

I already feel bad putting the incredible Merriweather Post Pavilion in second place, after all it has been almost uniformly recognized as the album of the year. It's gotten perfect reviews from every publication in existence, and it's featured in the top two or three of every major countdown, yet, it appears to be the ugly step sister when it comes to countdowns, always finishing second. Only Pitchfork put this album in it's rightful place atop the end of year polls, and despite knowing that pound for pound that Merriweather Post Pavilion is clearly this year's greatest album I just can't give it the top spot. There's something about this record, beneath all it's brilliance, it's mighty grooves and it's incredible hooks it just doesn't quite connect to you on the personal level. It's magical, captivating and inspiring but it's not the type of album that you can truly call you're favourite, it doesn't quite make that bond. Now this may seem like a shallow reason to deny Merriweather Post Pavillion it's rightful place but it is the truth, and it's the albums only flaw, it's an album that amazes, that astounds but perhaps for those reasons I can't love it in the way a true number one should be loved.

When you first listen to Merriweather Post Pavilion you soon realize that something very special is going on, In The Flowers opens the album, and you're immediately overwhelmed by a senses of the aquatic, this album has a great liquidity, it has a natural flow, a pitter patter to it, the LP feels organic, natural and constantly beautiful. The album shimmers, like a secluded lake you've stumbled upon in the middle of the night, it leaves you transfixed as you watch the moon light dance and flicker on the lake's ever changing surfaces. Now this may sound overly grand but this is an album of rich sound, grand imagery and widescreen ideals. Of course the tranquil beauty gives way to incredible booming captivating beats, as you're thrown from you hazy hallucination by the cry of Avey Tare. "If I Could Just Leave My Body For The Night" is the dream on album opener In The Flowers and it perfectly encapsulates the entire album, this is an album that yearns for something more, something beautiful, something peaceful, an out of body experience and by the end of Merriweather Post Pavilion that wish has been thoroughly fulfilled. This mind warping opening is followed by one of the decade's greatest singles in the form of My Girls, a song whose sound is so inspiring, it becomes a self fulfilling prophecy, you'll no longer care for materiel things as long as music this heavenly continues to play, and of course it does only going from strength to strength.

The 21st Century has seen the return of psychedelia to critical prominence and as this album evolves it throws a series of contrasting images at it's listeners, from the natural aquatic opening to the churning, bubbling and ringing tones of Summertime Clothes to the Lucy in the Sky meets Christmas single via big bass of Bluish; you begin to wonder where this album is set, is it set in a naturally hidden hippy hidaway? Is this a crazy science lab with beakers bubbling over with strange substances while crazy machines bleep away? Or is this all one glorious mind bending trip through time and space? Well like all great albums Merriweather Post Pavilion can be all of these things or none or something completely different all together. This glorious irresistible psychedelic pop masterpiece promised an out of body experience and it duly delivered, and perhaps the final word should be left to the Animal Collective themselves; this album "Makes Me So Crazy, Though I Can't Say Way" it just grabs you, shakes you thoroughly and takes you on a inexplicable journey through sound like nothing you've ever experienced before.

1. Warm Heart Of Africa - The Very Best Of
(Green Owl 2009, Radioclit)

The world in the 21st Century has become microscopic, for better or worse globalisation has touched almost every corner of this earth and the internet has brought us closer together with the people of the world than we could ever have dreamed possible just fifteen years ago. The musical world has shrunk even faster, while even multicultural London may not have incorporated the influence of Africa beyond the odd themed restaurant, in music sounds and ideas have clashed together and merged seamlessly to create inspiring and almost incomprehensible new sounds that have left even the most well versed music critic lost for words. Now African music, particularly the relentless tribal drum rhythms of west Africa have been thoroughly incorperated into western music, bolstering the sound of trail blazers Diplo and M.I.A and more recently adding some hypnotic beats to our brilliant number two the Animal Collective's Merriweather Post Pavilion. However, this has been very much a one way process, the West has incorporated sounds from across the world and created great works, but what makes Warm Heart Of Africa so special is the fact that the process is flipped on it's head. Radioclit took all there western influences and took them straight to the heart of Malawi and created an album where UK and US beats are subservient to tribal chants, ethereal classical African choruses and of course those stomping irresistible drum beats.

The whole experience is thoroughly thrilling, they don't stop with just bringing some production nouse and some slicker than slick beats, The Very Best Of even took Ezra Koenig from the Vampire Weekend and transported him to the middle of Africa, the result was mind blowing, the album's title track somehow managed to surpass even the finest Vampire Weekend track. It's at this point, three tracks in, when you realize just what makes Warm Heart Of Africa the album of the year, it's not it's technical nouse, it's creative brilliance or it's beautiful harmonies, it's simply the feel good factor, this is an album that plasters a smile across you're face, every inch of this album is uplifting. Africa is a continent so often associated with tragedy, it feels positively inspiring to see all it's creativity, all it's cultural, and all it's artistry on display to be celebrated. It doesn't play second fiddle, this isn't a mild drum beat hidden under a million different production effects, this is the real sound of Africa. Nsokoto is the perfect example, I of course cannot understand a word of the track, but the pulsating rhythm, the sparse drums and the gorgeously layered vocals just transport you, you feel like you're there, your head is filled with imagery, not of starving children, but of smiling faces, beautiful scenery and the world's most insane dance moves.

In many ways this is the natural successor to Graceland, to many Western ears we never got to hear these gorgeous beats and these unique song structures except on Paul Simon's career defining work. This however is not the sanitised version, this is the real deal, this is Africa, and as you listen to the sweet melodies and the epic natural sweeps of Angonde you come to realize that they are just as good, if not better, than anything the once in a life time talent Paul Simon could create. Warm Heart Of Africa though is more than just a celebration of traditional Africa, of small villages and tribes, this is a thoroughly contemporary album, just listen to the buzzsaw crunch of Julia where Radioclit really come into their own, creating a monstrous blaring rave riff for Esau Mwamwaya gorgeous vocal to ride atop. Around the half way point the album begins to evolve, both sonically and spiritually, you feel that you're been taken on a magical mystery tour of Africa, no longer confined to Malawi, this is a grand tour, incorporating sea side villages, great plains, and underground night clubs in grimey towns, they are throwing everything at you. The electronic beats really start to stack up on the imposing Ntende Uli only to be countered by the organic Rain Dance, of course instead of Western bleeps Rain Dance is boosted by the care free swagger of M.I.A. By the time we reach the albums highlight the cooling feel good majesty of Kamphopo you realize that while Merriweather Post Pavilion may be the best album of the year if not the decade, it can't make you feel the way Warm Heart Of Africa does, this is a one of statement, it's an all encompassing cultural masterwork, whose album title hit the nail squarely on the head, there is no doubt about it, The Very Best Of have given us the Warm Heart Of Africa in all it's glory.

Due to social engagements I rather left you all hanging, and so in an effort to keep the content rolling over I'm going to publish the next three entrant in the list year before uploading the top two, so you'll have to wait a little longer to find out who the winner is, but for now let's dive into the top five.

5. It's Not Me It's You - Lily Allen
(Regal 2009, Greg Kurstin)

The cult of personality can get you along way in this world, where the celebrity obsessed culture has evolved to a perverse extent. Lily Allen has become this world and this scene's reluctant hero. While she may not want this mantle across two albums and over five years Lily has ascended the pop mountain and become the UK's most sought after celebrity. Surprisingly in a culture that has fixated itself upon the surreal, creating a do anything to get famous culture, Lily's rise can be attributed to two factors; honesty and abundance of genuine song writing talent. While It's Not Me It's You may arguably be the weakest start to finish album on this countdown, it is easily the most personal and the most affecting. The power in It's Not Me It's You lies in it's earthy honesty, this is an album without pretence, it's an album that for better or worse, plays like a stream of consciousness, the unravelling of an inner neurosis, a series of intimate confessions line up one after another. Therein lies Lily Allen's secret, while their are many layers to her artistry, at it's core her music is both completely remarkable and unremarkable, at the same time. It's Not Me It's You captures a moment in time in a person's life, someone's thoughts, someone's fears, someone's relationships, heartaches and occasional political musings. Lily puts forward her own internal dialogue it's personal and unique and yet simultaneously the neurosis of your average 22 year old girl (and bloke for that matter), this may seem totally unremarkable, but the level of openness, introspection and honesty is rarely heard in hushed conversations between best friends let alone on record for millions to hear. As a result Lily let people in, and they took her to heart, and as Lily found out she unwittingly made herself public property.

Now musically It's Not Me It's You's central weapon was juxtaposition, tracks like 22 saw Lily contrasting sweetie pie musical theatre flourishes with stark fears of a twenty something in London, worrying about finding love and finding direction before the prime time of her life passes her by. Never Gonna Happen and the brilliant Not Fair saw Lily in scathing form, unashamedly showing off her own cruelty as she couldn't forgive the guy of her dreams for being shit in bed, it was far removed from the sanctified balladry of Beyonce, this was real, this was honest, this was the type of girl both men and women could identify with, the genuine article, warts and all. As a result tracks that knowingly portray Allen as the villain only served to make her a hero, as these were the same moral contradictions that defined all our lives. The Fear the album's runaway number one single, remains an incredible and terrifying work. The line "I want loads of clothes and fuck loads of diamonds, I hear people die while they're trying to find them" remains eye opening, while it can be read on the one level as a simple joke about people's disposable morality it goes further, it's truthful, The Fear see's Lily admitting she doesn't know "what's right anymore". In one fail swoop Lily has defined the confused apathetic amorality that has dominated twenty first century western culture, while Lily extols societies ills she's also the first to admit that she's no better; she worries about the state of the world but really she's most concerned about making sure that she's "getting thinner". It's at this point you realize that It's Not Me It's You is not a witty jaunt played for laughs penned by a talented song writer, it's in fact someone's own deep introspection laid out in front of you, for the world to see. Of course the world saw themselves in Lily as she battled with the same fears, desires and hypocritical moral dilemmas we all have to face. In doing so Lily created the years most touching album and became a national treasure in the process. It's Not Me It's You was less an album, and more a window into a nations collective consciousness at a crucial and distinct moment in all our lives.

4. Embryonic - The Flaming Lips
(Warner Bros. 2009, The Flaming Lips)

I have mixed feelings about this album, I adored it, I love it to bits, and I shall shortly shower an unending stream of praise upon it, but, on more than one occasion it has made me look very foolish. I'm not ashamed to admit it that every single time I listen to The Sparrow Looks Up At The Machine when a little electronic burble of interference causes the beat to skip I end up reaching for my phone. Yes, the Flaming Lips actually incorporated the interference noise that occurs when you receive a text message next to an amp or set of speakers into a track, and yes each and every time I fall for it. In many ways this one cruel joke defines Embryonic and everything that makes the Lips great, in the middle of a beautiful piece of instrumentation they remain unafraid to throw in a self serving joke, and ask yourself this who other than the Flaming Lips would use a textual interference noise in a piece of such beauty? Embryonic then feels more like a celebration than a conventional album, in this one double album The Flaming Lips cram in all the off the wall experimentation, all the crunching grooves, all the huge riffage, all the silly jokes, all the drugs, all the sci, all of well...everything that has made the Flaming Lips who they are today. Embryonic may not be able to capture the magic in the bottle that made Soft Bulletin and Yoshimi Battles The Pink Robots pop masterpieces, it instead sees the Lips create the album they've always threaten to make, a huge sci-fi psychedelic epic of limitless boundaries and endless creativity.

Perhaps Embryonic's greatest triumph is it's ability to bring such scope and wild creative together into one coherent package across a double album. There is a genuine flow to this album, it fits together in a remarkable organic nature and the first half of the LP flows like a dream, as moods blend together and elide to create a gorgeous whole. There is no doubt that tracks like If and Evil taken in isolation seem incomprehensible but taken as a part of the bombastic journey from superb Convinced Of The Hex to the eerie emptiness of Gemini Syringes they feel utterly essential. This is without doubt a bold statement in 2009, we've had plenty of talk of the album dying as an artistic medium, and to an extent it's true, but this has not stopped The Lips crafting a knowingly expansive and independent work. Even stand out single the endlessly vibrant Silver Trembling Hands is part of a musical journey and feels hollow taken out of it's intended context. The empty space on this album is also thrilling, their are long periods of intense instrumentation, where grooves are allow to build or fade away as they see fit, the result are tracks like The Ego's Last Stand that could never be released as singles but stands as true epic master-work, of atmosphere and mood. As a result the Lips have created if not their best album to date, their most definitive, an album that encapsulates the spirit, ambition and desire of one of alternative musics true trailblazers. This is their magnus opus, for once a double album in the spirit of The White Album that benefits from it's own indulgence that would only lose it's charm were it touched by the editors pen.

3. Veckatimest - Grizzly Bear
(Warp 2009, Chris Taylor)

In pop music every so often a band will come around with a track so staggering, so beautiful and so powerful that it stops you dead in you're tracks. It may not quite be a JFK moment, you may not remember where you were when you first heard it, but when you first hear the gorgeous Two Months it will without doubt leave a timeless mark upon you. In a year where pop music started out on the right footing with Lily Allen, La Roux, Natasha Kahn and Florence Welsh striding into the pop charts only to be replaced by the old stalwarts of conservatism Simon Cowell and the X Factor, it was in fact and an album on the fringe, never meant for the mainstream that would produce pop's most beautiful and defining moment. Away from the wars between Joe McEverly and Rage Against The Machine, it was the outsiders not the insiders who were making the year's most infectious pop music. Grizzly Bear and Veckatimest captured the spirit of the 21st Century by making music whose beauty is matched only by it's creativity and intricacy, this album never courted the mainstream, yet it flourished and in Two Months and While You Wait For The Others created two most beautiful pop songs imaginable. It followed in the newly created tradition of Fleet Foxes in creating an album unashamed of it's own folk and baroque pop sentiments and yet channelled these influences into ethereal gorgeous pop music that is simply too infectious and too heart warming to be labelled alternative and is too successful to be considered underground or arty.

What is truly staggering about Veckatimest is it's internal contradiction, across the album we are treated to these lush richly arranged track like Fine For Now or Southern Point, where the arrangements are so vibrant so crammed full of flourishes, sweeps and crescendos that it almost feels over produced or burdened yet at the tracks core are these simple beautiful melodies and multi-part harmonies that even on first listen are so striking and immediate that they reach in and pluck (or should that be coo?) at your heart strings. It's amazing that these two factors manage to balance at all, their is so much going on, each arrangement is crammed full of buzzing, wurring, cooing and pulsating drums that you should be constantly distracted and overwhelmed, and yet you're not, you're attention is never drawn from the powerhouse vocal performances. Of course all this discussion of music seems fruitless, this truly is an album to be experienced, describing Foreground will never do justice to a track so richly textured, beautifully sung or cleverly arranged. While at times Veckatimest can feel laboured it never ceases to astound, and it's most astounding feat is it's accessibility, this is an album that's open to everyone, it has all the hallmarks of the avante guard but it's simply too infectious, too hummable and too inescapable, it hooks you on the first listen, it's harmonies are too well pitched to be resisted, it's music is too inspiring and too captivating, ultimately Veckatimest is just too damn good to be denied.

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This is your one stop shop of pop culture reviews I most specialize in Music, Politics & Film. I occasionally delve into TV reviews. I've got a Politics MA and a War Studies BA, I'm taking a year out before starting a Phd so when it comes to History and Politics I'm pretty well versed but I tend to keep this blog fun rather than serious.

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