‘Death is real.’
These words, spoken by Win Butler himself, reflect the essence of Arcade Fire’s revered debut album. Death is something that Butler and his songwriting partner, wife Régine Chassagne, know a bit about; prior to Funeral, the pair faced multiple deaths in their families. As a consequence, themes of loss and fragility, but also hope, characterise the album. Funeral is intensely emotional, yet uplifting in its catharsis. Much is left unsaid, but the passion and pain conveyed in Butler’s trembling tones, the fierce, unbridled guitar sections that feature intermittently and poignantly, and the sorrowful strings that tie them, say it all.
It took me far too long to find, and appreciate, Arcade Fire. I remember hearing tracks from The Suburbs (principally the title track) on the radio in 2010 and, despite having never heard of the band before, I could tell that it wasn’t Arcade Fire’s first record. There was something so steady, purposeful and resolute about Win Butler’s vocals. Everything was happening for a reason. Arcade Fire were hitting their stride in a big way, and I was pulled along in the slipstream. So were many others; The Suburbs was a surprise winner of the Grammy for Album of the Year in 2010. Nevertheless, it took three more years, and the superb Reflektor record, for me to investigate what started it all for the once-ramshackle Montreal outfit.
Funeral has little of The Suburbs’ composure and even less of Reflektor’s sheen. It’s the most poorly produced of Arcade Fire’s albums, but that hardly detracts from the profound narratives and superb songwriting the album comprises. Along with the offerings of bands like Bloc Party and Franz Ferdinand, Arcade Fire’s Funeral heralded the transformation of indie rock into a genre that was both musically and emotionally complex.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VU_2R1rjbD8
A funeral is as much about celebrating the life of the deceased as it is about mourning their death. It’s fitting, then, that the gloom in which Arcade Fire revel on Funeral is counterbalanced by moments of sincere hope and euphoria. On Neighborhood #1(Tunnels), Butler sings of escapism through the metaphor of a desperate teenage romance. Across town, things are worse; Neighborhood #2 (Laika) touches on domestic violence, while drawing parallels between an alienated, disaffected young man and the doomed dog Laika, sent into space by the Soviets with no chance or intention of her returning alive. Wheezing accordion adds an air of intrigue to the pounding drums and thrashing guitar.
Une Année Sans Lumière is a beautiful, lullaby-like (until its robust final stanza) reflection on the inevitability of death and how people ignore its presence, much like a horse with blinkers (‘un cheval qui porte des œillères’). It shares thematic similarities with Neighborhood #3 (Power Out), but the latter is a surging, crashing wave of emotion, with ragged guitar accompanying Butler and Chassagne’s strained, urgent harmonies. The majestic, wordless chorus of Wake Up is the album’s finest moment. Like so many of Arcade Fire’s songs, the meaning is open to conjecture, but, in the context of the songs around it, I favour the explanation that it’s about overcoming trauma and moving forward with life.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9zdNdjF-htY
Beneath its sombre façade, you can’t help but feel a sense of hope emanating from the music. Lyrically, Haïti is among the album’s darkest songs, but there’s an undeniable calm and buoyancy about the strumming of an acoustic guitar. Rebellion (Lies) possesses an infectious, strutting bassline and a remarkably upbeat call and response section (‘Every time you close your eyes / Lies!’), which in itself may be a comment on society’s mindless compliance with culture and conventions. In many instances, Funeral is more about life – specifically challenging the norm and making the most of your finite time on Earth – than it is about death.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MQvZ4N1RfS8
Funeral is not an easy ride. Overwhelmingly, it’s a dark and haunting take on the broader suffering of humanity – whether that be heartbreak (Crown of Love) or despair caused by the uncontrollable passage of time (Neighborhood #4 (7 Kettles)). I love it for its sincerity and its passion – characteristics that Arcade Fire have maintained and honed throughout their career. I only wish I’d heard their music sooner.
The crowd was getting restless. “Soon, soon,” assured a man on stage. Whether he was a sound technician, a tour manager or otherwise, I couldn’t say; nor did anybody care. The mass of bodies was writhing and murmuring with increasing intensity, desperate for the music to begin. Moments later, the lights dimmed, smoke swept across the stage and “Kaytranada”, scrawled in red, appeared on the enormous screen behind the decks.
If you’re not familiar with Haitian-Canadian producer Kaytranada, you ought to be. His debut album 99.9% is one of the best of 2016, melding slinky rhythms with irresistible bass grooves and a generous dose of soul, not to mention a raft of guest contributors. When Kay walked on stage on Thursday it was to a feverish Brisbane crowd, who had packed out The Tivoli in anticipation of a special performance. They weren’t disappointed.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rKlA5tRu6f0
At just 24 years of age, the Montreal local (real name Kevin Celestin) is a remarkable young talent, and his confidence and charisma reflect this. “Dance, motherfuckers, dance!” he cried early in the set, grinning to his adoring audience. And dance they did. It was hard not to with Kay spinning tracks like Together, which features London duo AlunaGeorge and Washington, D.C. rapper Goldlink, from the get-go. It’s one of many cuts from 99.9% that exists blissfully at the intersection of R&B and dance. Kaytranada’s beats are always perfectly complemented by the guest vocalist’s style, whether that’s the neo-soul crooning of Syd tha Kid, the smooth flow of Phonte or the frenetic verses of Vic Mensa. He doesn’t mind returning the favour, either; Mensa’s Wimme Nah and a collaboration with Syd’s band The Internet, Girl, both got a look-in, much to the audience’s joy.
Remixes of Flume’s Holdin On and Chance The Rapper’s All Night were also warmly received, but the set revolved around tracks from 99.9%. Inspired by drummers like Karriem Riggins – who features on Bus Ride – Kaytranada’s music owes a lot to its percussive samples. Most are memorable enough that you can identify a song from just its percussion. This allowed Kay to excite the crowd with drums alone, upon which he would construct and deconstruct the melodies, masterfully transitioning between tracks. Behind him, fascinating visuals played: a strip club robbery, a boating holiday, a trio of muscular women flexing and carrying our boy Kay through the woods. Bizarre.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yaWesK-nWts
The highest peak of Kaytranada’s tremendous musical mountain range was Glowed Up. Anderson .Paak – who himself released one of the finest albums of the year in Malibu – is superb, displaying his considerable talents as both a rapper and a singer. You’re the One, Got It Good (featuring Craig David) and Lite Spots also made an impact, but it was hard to discern the popularity of any particular track given the intensity of the audience’s excitement throughout. I’ll forgive Kay’s pronunciation of Brisbane (“Bris-bAne”) because his set was near-flawless. I’m 99.9% sure he blew a speaker towards the end, too, but it didn’t inhibit his performance or dampen his exuberance. It was a spectacular showcase from a young producer in form, but perhaps not yet at the peak of his powers. That’s an exciting prospect.
Image: Juan Castro / Howl & Echoes
Check out all the photos from Kaytranada’s Melbourne show here.
It’s been a testing few years for Two Door Cinema Club. The band originally from Northern Ireland was forced to curtail their 2014 tour (including, memorably, Splendour in the Grass) due to illness, which only compounded the feelings of frustration and discontent that had beset them. Being stuck in an exhausting cycle of recording, touring and promoting for four years had taken its toll, both physically and mentally, and the trio’s relationship was strained.
Fast forward to today, and it’s an entirely different story. Revitalised after a much-needed break from the rigours of the rock ‘n’ roll lifestyle, frontman Alex Trimble, bassist Kevin Baird and guitarist Sam Halliday have reunited to release their third album, Gameshow. We spoke to Sam about the album and why a break was vital to the ongoing success of Two Door Cinema Club.
Gameshow is out tomorrow (Friday 14th October) in Australia. Can you tell me a bit about the album’s themes and what sort of things the album addresses?
I can give it a go! I think, from Alex’s point of view, a lot of it was having the time off the road to reflect a bit on where the world was at. I think something that hit him a lot was how people nowadays just seem to live their life a bit too much online and on social media. A few of the songs reflect on those sort of observations. He doesn’t like speaking too much about the lyrics; it’s nice for people to take what they want from a song.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RrJZJtY6u7o
I understand you guys have been on a self-imposed hiatus for the last few years. Why was that decision made?
It wasn’t so much a decision; that would be putting it too nicely [laughs]. We ended the campaign last time around with a few cancelled shows and that was brought about by illness, which I think was induced mostly by unhealthy living, being on the road, drinking too much and eating badly. Parallel that with the stress and anxiety of being in a broken family relationship, which I think is what our band kind of got to become at the end. When you’re spending 24/7 with people who you’re working with and who you’re friends with, I think everything is magnified. We got pretty bad at communicating the little things. It’s not as if there was ever a big argument or a big bust-up between us – that probably would’ve been better because you could pinpoint that problem pretty easily. I think we all just became a bit unhappy because we were doing it all a bit too much and there was no balance between home life and work life, or any other side of life. We just needed a bit of time to experience something outside of the band.
What did you do during your time off?
I got married just before the last campaign and I’d not really lived anywhere properly before. It was cool! I had some DIY to do, put up some pictures, look up YouTube videos, learn some new skills… Just being a good house husband. I got into cooking and just normal stuff, you know? Playing football once a week with friends, going to the pub, going to gigs, making music for fun.
Did living so far apart from one another during your time off help with gathering a variety of ideas and inspiration for this album? Did everyone bring something different to the table?
Yeah, I think we did. We’ve always been kind of been like that, though. We’re just so different. Obviously we all like music, but I think we all have different favourite types of music, which is great. I think the distance was good because it meant that we didn’t have to straight away get in a room together and try and make songs, because that can be kind of awkward if you’re not getting on so well. I guess it’s hard to be vulnerable and brave around people you’re not so close with.
We just started off hanging out and not doing music at all, and then whenever we felt comfortable with sharing ideas it was all done initially over email, which was cool because it wasn’t awkward. It gave us time to work on ideas alone and bring different elements to it and share them without any pressure. And then once you realise that, yeah, this is easy, we can do this, it’s like back to normal. It was fun then, getting into the studio and expanding on those ideas we’d worked on online. Working again with Jacknife Lee was great; we worked with him on Beacon and built up a relationship with him. He knew the dynamic and just made a fun environment for us all.
That fun really shines through in the three songs I’ve heard so far from Gameshow. I’ve never heard music from you guys that sounds quite so carefree. It sounds like you guys are reinvigorated and full of energy and ideas. Is that how you felt in the studio when you returned?
Yeah, definitely. We’ve always taken the band seriously, but I think we’ve taken the whole thing less seriously – not in a professional way, I mean we’re just trying to have fun, and having that distance from the project and realising that it doesn’t matter as much as we thought it did when we were in it 24/7. That’s allowed us to have a bit more fun with it, be a bit more brave and take different directions.
I know your first two albums were recorded and produced relatively quickly as part of that record-tour-promote cycle. With Gameshow, Did you enjoy being able to focus more and take your time with this album?
I don’t even know if we did take our time with this one! As soon as we knew we wanted to do it, it was full steam ahead – not because we had to, but because it was exciting again. I think once we started writing songs it just clicked. We weren’t really working on it in that break at all; we were just sort of writing music for fun and not for the band particularly. Once we started writing for Two Door, that was probably the end of last summer, and then we went in to record in January/February time. So we didn’t really spend that much time working on the music compared to before; it was sort of a similar process.
Your music videos are consistently some of the most interesting, and that’s especially true of your new singles, Are We Ready (Wreck) and Bad Decisions. They’re both visually and conceptually fascinating, but do you think they accurately portray the themes you wanted them to?
I think the Are We Ready video is bang on. We’ve always tried to do stuff that has a bit more of a meaning behind it, but I think in terms of the humorous aspect of it we were a bit less concerned about coming across silly. It was good fun to do. We got to go and get prosthetics made, which is, personally, just a cool experience. It was guys who had worked on Guardians of the Galaxy and stuff, so it was cool just to be in that world for a second.
The Bad Decisions video I think came from a place of us getting sucked into a computerised world, which seemed to sync up with the idea of some of the songs, but then it just went a bit crazy [laughs].
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CJ8_alfIHYI
So is that what Gameshow is about as a concept, that computerised world?
Gameshow became the album title because all of us responded to it. The general feeling of what we didn’t necessarily like about being in the band was feeling like you constantly have to play this ‘gameshow’. Do this and you might get this. Sometimes you might get thrown into this pop world where it’s not about the music; it’s just about doing these other stupid things that help you get to where you want to go, I guess.
Can we expect a return to Australia with Gameshow?
Definitely! I wish I knew when. We love coming to Australia and we’ve always had a great time there, so we’re definitely not going to miss the chance. The tough thing now is that we’ve got all these fun places to go, but we’re trying not to kill ourselves this time around again.
Gameshow is out now via Parlophone.
The human ear is easily fooled. In 1967, a pop band called The Main Attraction released a charming, fairly unremarkable single called Everyday. Long story short: the band’s singer is pretty smitten with this new man she’s met. Every day my load is lighter, she croons. Since I met you, I found a world so new. And there’s the trick. This vocal sample is an integral component of The Avalanches’ much-loved single Since I Left You – even providing the song’s title – and yet ‘left’ isn’t the word being sung at all.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wpqm-05R2Jk
Listening to The Avalanches’ brand of plunderphonics is an otherworldly experience. It’s a stained glass window through time, colouring and distorting the sounds of the past to create music as beautiful as it is muddied. Snippets of conversation, music from long-forgotten recordings, dialogue from film and radio… all of it re-purposed to form something new. Even the album artwork is a sample; it’s a small portion of American artist Fred Dana Marsh’s 1920 piece Sinking of USS President Lincoln. Band member Tony Di Blasi put it best in a recent interview with triple j: “It’s like The Avalanches is all these voices throughout time and we’re just a conduit for it.”
The enormously talented Melbourne group has been ubiquitous recently, with their long-long-long-awaited sophomore LP, Wildflower, finally seeing the light of day last month. But amid the fanfare, there are those who are bemused by the sudden reappearance of the group. Who are they, exactly? Why is everyone so excited by this album? Why did it take so long to make? And so on.
Without context, you could be forgiven for doubting the relevance of The Avalanches’ new music. After all, they only released one album all the way back in 2000 and, until this year, had been disappointing us with broken promises and new music that never arrived. Think Frank Ocean or Gendry from Game of Thrones (where is he?) but for sixteen years. If it was anybody else, we would have given up. But it’s The Avalanches, the group responsible for one of the most innovative, revered and expertly-crafted albums in Australian music history. That’s why this band still matters.
The Avalanches, before they left us: (L-R) James De La Cruz, Robbie Chater, Dexter Fabay, Tony Di Blasi, Gordon McQuilten and Darren Seltmann
In 1997, Di Blasi, Robbie Chater and Darren Seltmann formed a group from the ashes of Alarm 115, the trio’s short-lived noise-punk band. Chater and Seltmann had produced a demo tape using crates of old vinyl records, from which they extracted a variety of beats and other sounds. By their fifth gig, after trialling brash names such as Swinging Monkey Cocks and Squid Hats, they settled, mercifully, on The Avalanches.
The inspiration behind the band’s penchant for sampling was simple. As Chater told triple j in 2000, they couldn’t afford to play grand orchestral pieces or replicate the sound of a distinctive instrument from a particular era, so they sourced the sounds they needed from other records. “None of us had much money, so it was just a very cheap sampler, a cheap computer and lots of time going through Melbourne’s op shops,” he explained. By 1999, the band members were spending hours digging through crates of old vinyl, sending interesting samples back and forth and gradually collecting enough to make an album. That album, released in November 2000, was Since I Left You.
The album is best experienced in its entirety, and through headphones. Each track flows into the next, weaving a mesmerising sonic narrative where a horse neighing is as influential as Madonna’s Holiday. Since I Left You is rumoured to comprise over 3,500 individual samples. The summery, disco-inspired title track was one of the band’s most successful. “Get a drink, have a good time now. Welcome to paradise,” you’re greeted, amid soaring flute and a sampled harmony by ‘60s doo-wop icons The Duprees. And so your journey begins.
The Madonna-sampling Stay Another Season is an accompanying coda to Since I Left You, and its familiarity is comforting. It morphs slowly from breezy cruise liner tune to the staggering groove of Radio, apparently via Flemington racecourse. Between tracks, The Avalanches litter fascinating shreds of audio, which, despite their complete disparity, allow for seamless transitions. It’s with the cry of, “Can’t you hear it?”, taken from the 1961 original Broadway cast recording of How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying, that we reach Two Hearts in 3/4 Time. Here, the gorgeous vocals of American soul singer Marlena Shaw lead us through serene waters and into the turbulence of Avalanche Rock, an interlude of sorts before the blipping, helter-skelter Flight Tonight, which centres on a looped hip-hop lyric by Prince Paul and De La Soul. The pace is frenetic. Before you know it, you’re deep into the album, tossed in a salad of Debbie Reynolds and Sesame Street, garnished with dialogue from Robert De Niro in the ‘80s action film Midnight Run.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IvWsfyapD2Y
Subtle, familiar threads link sections of Since I Left You together, allowing The Avalanches to explore busy musical side streets before returning to the main thoroughfare. Recurring samples, such as Nancy Wilson’s Tonight May Have To Last Me All My Life – parts of which appear in three tracks, culminating in the gentle piano chords of Tonight – are anchoring motifs, providing balance and continuity. There’s definitely a seaside flavour throughout the album, too, with dialogue from the 1986 film Club Med appearing in four tracks and the fleeting Pablo’s Cruise comprised primarily of seagulls and a foghorn.
Through the fog looms The Avalanches’ pièce de résistance: Frontier Psychiatrist. It’s impossibly dense, excessively dramatic and entirely bizarre. “I’d had the music for a long, long time. That big Spaghetti Western kind of sample. I could never figure out what to do with it,” Chater recalled to triple j. Enter Canadian comedy duo Wayne & Shuster, whose record provided the unexpected source of inspiration The Avalanches needed. Lines from their Frontier Psychiatrist sketch, among others, as well as spoken word contributions from Flip Wilson and dialogue from the film Polyester, construct what is essentially a comedy song, albeit one set to a masterfully mixed cocktail of drums, strings, horns and choral harmonies.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qLrnkK2YEcE
The alarm clock ringing in the background of Etoh is fitting; it does feel as though Frontier Psychiatrist was a strange dream. Somehow, though, it sits comfortably alongside the fluttering, French-infused Summer Crane and the robotic funk of Live at Dominoes (“Flight two two is off to Honolulu!”), which are unlikely bedfellows themselves. Then again, the whole album was unlikely; so much of it was composed by chance. If Robbie Chater hadn’t stumbled across that record by The Main Attraction and decided it looked useful, Since I Left You simply wouldn’t exist – not by that name, anyway. As if to remind us of this, Extra Kings fades out with a lyric by The Osmonds: I just can’t get you, since the day I left you. It’s a perfect, full-circle conclusion to an album that sounds as lush and imaginative today as it did in 2000.
While the samples themselves are rooted in the 20th century, Since I Left You is much more than a cut-and-paste pastiche. It’s a masterpiece.
Image: triple j
Three Odd Future fans walk into a jazz school. No, this isn’t the setup of an obscure joke; it’s the story of how Toronto teenagers Matthew Tavares, Chester Hansen and Alex Sowinski combined their shared love of hip-hop with their training in jazz to form BADBADNOTGOOD. Despite being panned by their stubbornly orthodox teachers (one of whom wrote ‘sucksucksthissucks’ about them), the band has played with Tyler, the Creator, Frank Ocean and Earl Sweatshirt, among others, and has forged a reputation as one of the coolest, most imaginative names in modern jazz.
IV is BADBADNOTGOOD’s fourth album (notwithstanding 2015’s terrific Sour Soul collaboration with Ghostface Killah) and by far their most vast and exploratory. Much of IV exists at the border of chaos and control. Solid, structured foundations tremble under loose instrumental interludes. No track encapsulates this notion better than the turbulent Confessions Pt 2, which features acclaimed American multireedist Colin Stetson. Stetson’s musical expertise has seen him work with the likes of Arcade Fire and Bon Iver (not a bad CV) and Confessions Pt 2 shows exactly why. Blasting the bass sax like he was born with a reed in his mouth, Stetson’s playing is ferocious, yet cathartic. There are also moments of urgency, reminiscent of James Bond being pursued through the streets of New Orleans by a trio of villainous saxophonists.
Stetson is not the only collaborator on IV. Three very different vocalists lend their voices to the record, each adding depth and personality to the band’s impeccable instrumentals. This is rather new territory for BADBADNOTGOOD, whose only previous work with a vocalist was with Ghostface Killah on the Sour Soul record. Time Moves Slow features the inimitable Samuel T. Herring from Future Islands. Chester Hansen’s bass is prominent and lush throughout, and the elements of the track ebb and flow harmoniously, resulting in a moment of unusual purpose and clarity on an album fuelled by imagination.
Hyssop of Love showcases the immense talents of Chicago rapper Mick Jenkins, whose polished flow adheres to the shifting cadence of the music, proving yet again that BADBADNOTGOOD and hip-hop is a seriously good combination. This is true even of the tracks without vocals; Speaking Gently, for example, is manifestly an intricate, jazz-infused hip-hop track. Indeed, their ability to seamlessly merge classic jazz techniques with hip-hop instrumentals and manic improvisations makes BADBADNOTGOOD one of the most interesting bands in modern music.
Album opener And That, Too is smooth and sultry, chiming gently below regimented woodwind and percussion, before saxophonist Leland Whitty’s abrupt, roiling solo. It’s not the only time on IV that Whitty – who has joined the band properly after a long period as a touring member – lets loose. He’s presented with significant room to move on Chompy’s Paradise, as well as the album’s title track, on which the speed and dexterity of Alex Sowinski’s drumming is equally noteworthy. Sowinksi was recently recruited as a guest percussionist on 99.9%, the debut album from Haitian-Canadian producer Kaytranada. On Lavender, Kaytranada returns the favour, co-composing a track characterised by a deep, rubbery groove and warbling interjections of synth. I could listen to a whole album of this collaboration.
[bandcamp width=100% height=120 album=2176871443 size=large bgcol=ffffff linkcol=0687f5 tracklist=false artwork=small track=2563037576]
The third and final vocalist to feature on IV is another fine Toronto artist in Charlotte Day Wilson. Her low register and soulful delivery provides a lovely counterbalance to the soaring strings on In Your Eyes. It reveals a delicate side to BADBADNOTGOOD, which sits comfortably alongside the record’s diverse textures and sprawling instrumentation. On III, they crafted a definite sound and identity; on IV, they’ve expanded into purposeful ambiguity once more, inviting a disparate collection of guests to add their own flavours to the musical pot. The outcome is an album that thoroughly explores the manifold styles and capabilities of BADBADNOTGOOD. It expresses a swathe of moods and emotions, communicated as much through bold improvisation as structured melody. And isn’t that what jazz is all about?
Times have changed for Metronomy‘s Joseph Mount. The creative force behind the eclectic Brighton band has always pushed the envelope with his music, but these days, with two young children, he faces the prospect of more kids parties than dance parties. Summer 08 is Metronomy’s fifth record. As the title suggests, it harks back to 2008 in an effort to capture the spirit of the band’s breakthrough year, when the music was imbued with the zest and ambition of a young man in his element.
It’s always nice to hear new music from Metronomy, but I never quite know what to expect. Do you like to challenge fans’ expectations of your music with each new release?
Yeah, but not for the sake of it. There’s always a reason that it sounds different and a bit surprising. One of the things that I like about music is when people surprise me. Being lucky enough to be a band that can play around a bit with people’s expectations is incredible. If I was in a different band that did the same kind of thing, I think we’d lose a lot of people. We’re lucky that the fans are so generous with what they’ll take *laughs*.
I can only speak from my perspective, but I’m very open-minded when it comes to you guys.
We’ve cultivated that a bit. People kind of expect [to be challenged], which is even nicer in a way.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=74065d7QKEk
Last time I spoke to you, you told me that each Metronomy record captures a specific period in time. Is that still true of Summer 08, or is it deliberately retrospective?
The nice thing about music and when you’re making music is that it kind of exists in these two places. Even if, when you’re making a song, you’re thinking about the past or you’re using something as a reference point that’s old, purely the fact that it’s being made in the present gives it this new kind of… not a new meaning, but a double meaning. For example, this record’s obviously called, you know, 2008, and I was trying to think like I did when I was 25 and write music with the same spirit, but I’ve got two kids and I’m living a very different life to then. All the songs on this album are very specifically attached to last year. It’s the first Metronomy album where my oldest child knows all the songs. I think for me, forever, this album will remind me of the time my son started to sing along to Metronomy, so it still does place it firmly in the now.
What was significant about the summer of 2008?
The year 2008 was the springboard year for Metronomy, when Nights Out was released and we started travelling the world. Our lives were markedly different than the year before. The summer part isn’t so significant; it was just catchier than calling it 2008.
How much influence do the other band members have in the writing and recording process?
None *laughs*. It has always been my baby, and certainly with Metronomy I have this connection to it that makes it harder to let anyone else get too involved. That’s not to say that I would be like that with everything. I can happily work with people. It’s weird; this thing has almost gone too far now to involve other people. Oscar [Cash], who’s been in the band since the very beginning, he’s someone I’ll play the songs to. I value his opinion – I value everyone’s opinion – but ultimately I still feel like I know what’s best for Metronomy.
What compelled you to record this album in France, rather than in England?
I actually live in Paris, so it was kind of recorded at home in a way. It was recorded in a residential studio in the countryside in France. It was the first time I’d done it not in a city. It’s nice; when you take yourself into a building whose only reason for existing is recording music and the town that it’s next to is boring as fuck, you kind of just concentrate on making the record. There are places like that that exist in England, of course, but the weather is never as good.
Do you speak much French?
A little *laughs*. On a scale of one to ten, I’m probably around a five. A four or a five. I’m way better than I ever thought I would be.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7CiVF7LjKU8
The video for Old Skool is a fascinating watch. Does it accurately reflect the themes you explore in the song?
When you give a director a song to make a video for, you have to give up whatever video you thought you might have made. I think [the video] is definitely in the right place. It’s probably more unsettling than the song was meant to be, in a way. I think it says more about Dawn [Shadforth], who directed it, than it does about me.
One of the actors in the video is Ben Crompton from Game of Thrones. Are you a fan of the show?
The funny thing is, the lead female character in the video is Sharon Horgan, who’s a very successful comedian and writer and has this show called Catastrophe which is doing really well. Anyway, she was the person I knew about being cast in the video as the ‘famous’ person, and when I saw the first cut of the video I recognised that guy, but I didn’t know why. It wasn’t until the day it came out that I realised he’s from Game of Thrones. I immediately felt a bit sorry for Sharon, because she was the main coup in the casting, but these Game of Thrones geeks can’t be stopped. I used to watch it, but I’m not up to speed yet. When I’m touring I have a lot more time for that kind of stuff.
Speaking of touring, I understand you currently have no plans to tour Summer 08.
As of now, we’ve got no plans at all, which is surprisingly fun. Normally in the middle of all the press and promotion you also have this tour looming on the horizon. This time it’s not there and it’s a very different experience.
Did that give you more creative freedom, not worrying about how the songs would translate to the stage?
Yeah, it did. I guess you should always have as much creative freedom as you want, but there’s something about preparing for performing songs live that maybe makes you record them differently, and so definitely with [Summer 08] there was no concession for that. I should never record an album with the idea of playing live in my head, because I think that does limit your potential.
Summer 08 is out on 1st July via Because Music.
Welcome to winter, and welcome to another edition of Howl & Echoes’ Weekly Video Roundup, where we collate some of the best music videos from the past week. The big news in the Australian music world this week has been the long-awaited re-emergence of The Avalanches after 16 years in the wilderness. Amid the fanfare, you may have missed some of these tasty morsels:
Gold Panda – Chiba Nights
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jJ9VCM4RUac
The latest visual offering from UK producer Gold Panda and director Dan Tombs is mesmerising. Divided into a grid of sixteen squares to represent the MPC sampler on which he makes his music, Chiba Nights is colourful and kaleidoscopic, and brimming with scenes of Japanese culture. Chiba is a prefecture just outside of Tokyo, one of the cities that inspired Gold Panda’s new record.
The song itself is lustrous. It chirps and bubbles with warmth and familiarity, underpinned by pattering percussion and undeniable Japanese influence.
Gold Panda’s gorgeous third album, Good Luck and Do Your Best, was released last week on City Slang via Inertia Music.
LDRU – Next To You (ft. Savoi)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HYDilLUDna0
In April, Sydney drop maestro LDRU followed up the success of Keeping Score with an equally radio-ready single, Next To You, featuring the vocals of Brisbane newcomer Savoi. Next To You is a classic festival banger, but the video is… well… less conventional. In fact, it’s really fucking weird, although I suppose it could be beneficial to have a boyfriend who’s a good source of potassium.
You can catch LDRU on tour next month. Tickets are available here. Fingers crossed he brings Bananaman on stage with him.
Baby Blood – White Lotus
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fRzfdt8Ezm0
Next up is Danish artist Baby Blood, whose progressive, ethereal brand of music and Mexican wrestling-style face mask set her apart from the crowd. Ahead of the release of her new EP, Await the Coven, Baby Blood has released a creepy DIY video to accompany her single White Lotus. Aggressive and unerring in its approach, the video is as compelling as it is bizarre.
White Lotus is a brooding and bewitching blend of electronica, hip-hop and R&B. It explores themes of nature, mental purification and the cycle of existence in the context of a fictional, animated world. That is one terrifying puppet.
Await the Coven is slated for release on the 17th June.
Calypso – Numbered
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ga_yy9tF8N0
Numbered is the debut single from Tasmanian artist Calypso, and it’s a beauty. The sparse and moody opening stanza doesn’t prepare you for the exuberance that follows. A pulsating beat, delicate funk guitar and sultry saxophone accompany the powerful vocals of a talented and confident performer.
The video is a testament to what can be achieved with some paint, a smoke machine and a strobe light. It’s simple, it’s fun and it’s a yes from me.
Stay tuned for an EP from Calypso in the coming months.
Pacific Heights – Breath and Bone (ft. Dianne Krieg)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bI_9OskURM8
Pacific Heights is the solo project of Wellington musician Devin Abrams. The fourth single off his debut album The Stillness, Breath and Bone is rich and purposeful, yet delicate and atmospheric. This vibe is enhanced by the stunning vocals of Dianne Krieg, which lend an air of graceful intensity to the track.
The video showcases the breathtaking scenery of New Zealand’s South Island, which provides a backdrop for an interpretive dancer clad entirely in white. It’s a poetic representation of loneliness, and one that resonates beautifully with the sonic textures.
The Stillness by Pacific Heights is out now via Create/Control.
CRi – Don’t (ft. Gabriella Hook)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N98RaoJpf-w
Perhaps the most striking and cinematic of this week’s videos comes from CRi – the pseudonym of Montreal producer Christopher Dubé. Don’t is the first taste of Dubé’s upcoming Tell Her EP. It flutters and soars gracefully, perfectly matched by the vocals of fellow Canadian Gabriella Hook.
A concept plucked from the mind of director Ménad Kesraoui, the video explores the form and fragility of the human body in its most vulnerable state. It’s beautiful stuff.
CRi’s Tell Her EP is out on the 17th June via Young Art Records.
BASECAMP – Esc
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=juI1VuY0CKI
‘No turning back’ is the key message from Nashville trio BASECAMP’s single Esc. The track, which featured on 2015’s Greater Than EP, is about uncomfortable encounters and the point of no return, with gloomy vocals and downtempo synth crafting a dark and melancholic environment.
The video depicts frontman Aaron Miller in a decidedly shady bar full of judgmental onlookers and writhing, double-jointed men. It’s all rather unnerving.
BASECAMP’s Greater Than EP is out now via OWSLA.
Shura – What’s It Gonna Be?
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nJ4uBdmnKds
The award for most uplifting video of the week goes to Manchester singer-songwriter Shura. Taken from her upcoming debut album Nothing’s Real, What’s It Gonna Be? is about as warm and fuzzy as they come. It’s a throwback to high school and a clever twist on traditional roles and relationships, inspired by classic films like The Breakfast Club and featuring Shura’s real-life brother, Nick. What’s It Gonna Be? is saccharine pop music, but with boundless romantic energy and a genuinely lovable aesthetic.
Nothing’s Real is set to be released on the 8th July.
Image: Stoney Roads
The threat of terrorism in today’s society is perhaps as imminent as it has ever been.
For Damon Albarn, however, this must come as no surprise. Even in July 2005, in the aftermath of the London Bombings, he was indignant at the suggestion he might be shocked by the attack. “How can we be shocked by that?” he challenged in an interview with Notion magazine. “When there’s just an endless newsreel of stuff twenty times more shocking every day. Why is it any different here than it is there? It’s no different. We’ve just got better emergency services to mop up the mess.”
Rewind two months to the release of Gorillaz’s second album, Demon Days, and you find political statement and prophecy in equal measure. Beneath its creepy aesthetic and volatile sonic terrain, Demon Days is a brooding, darkly-themed album. Lyrically, it’s dense in metaphor, ambiguity and implication, and it provides a grim assessment of the state of the world, coloured by Albarn’s own fears of impending global crises.
Are we the last living souls?
Intro – which hints at some of the themes to come – leads into Last Living Souls, the blipping, metronomic rhythm of which wouldn’t be out of place on a hip-hop track. Its blatant post-apocalyptic tone exists alongside a wealth of musical ideas; the creativity flows freely and rapidly from Albarn (who voices the band’s goofy frontman, 2-D) early in the record.
Much of his inspiration was derived from a train journey he took to Mongolia via Beijing. The intervening wasteland of the Gobi desert, with its crumbling, barren earth and eery satellite towns, took hold of his imagination. The future he envisaged is not a pleasant one. Kids With Guns evokes images of child soldiers and, closer to home, the desensitisation of a generation to violence. Musically, it features one of the several beautiful basslines bestowed upon Demon Days, as well as a magnificent crescendo of looping keys and crashing cymbals. O Green World is a teeming mosaic of concepts, each vying for the most attention. In the opening seconds alone, reverberating bass lies menacingly below overtly taut, simplistic guitar and shrill synth.
O green world,
Don’t desert me now
Bring me back to fallen town
Where someone is still alive
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tMt_YXr90AM
Albarn’s debut Gorillaz release – 2001’s self-titled, genre-bending effort – was quite successful in itself, but, crucially, was also viewed as something of a gimmick. That’s probably inevitable when you create a cartoon band. Nevertheless, it meant that Demon Days had a point to prove: the Gorillaz project is no joke. Dirty Harry – a sequel of sorts to Clint Eastwood – demonstrates this perfectly. Its irresistible rhythm and choral interludes, plus the lyrically poignant feature from rapper Bootie Brown, whose verses focus on war from the perspective of a desert soldier, construct a song with sinister presence and unerring purpose.
The war is over
So said the speaker
With the flight suit on
Maybe to him I’m just a pawn
So he can advance
Remember when I used to dance
Man, all I want to do is dance
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cLnkQAeMbIM
To my mind, there are few songs that begin more memorably – more arrestingly, even – than Feel Good Inc. New York trio De La Soul feature prominently throughout Gorillaz’s second album but never more strikingly than in the wicked introductory laugh of Maseo. It’s iconic. That roaring, unforgettable laugh is just one of many aspects that made Demon Days such a resounding triumph for Damon Albarn and his animated friends – the ghoulish creations of cartoonist Jamie Hewlett. Feel Good Inc., which also features one of the most recognisable basslines of the 21st century, is representative of hedonism and corporate greed, another mesmerising chapter in ‘Damon Albarn’s Big Book of Pessimistic World Views’.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H8Qp38qT-xI
El Mañana (Spanish for ‘tomorrow’ or ‘the future’) is the album’s most tender moment, and perhaps also its most ambiguous. It yearns and aches, adding a dimension of sorrow to a record of tremendous thematic and emotional potency. The message here appears, again, to be one of war and the devastating permanence of its impact. Taken more literally, though, it could also be about a personal demon, something along the lines of unrequited love. More compelling is the suggestion that Albarn chose the title deliberately for its multiple meanings. The dreaded distant future could, in fact, be tomorrow, while la mañana means ‘morning’, perhaps implying that that bleak future is already happening.
I saw that day
Lost my mind
Lord, I’m fine
Maybe in time
You’ll want to be mine
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hji4gBuOvIQ
After the strutting twang and ragtime piano (contributed by the late American soul legend Ike Turner) of Every Planet We Reach Is Dead, MF Doom raps with poise about gang violence and death in November Has Come. All Alone reverts to the theme of war (in this case, I reckon George Bush Jr.’s unsupported, foolhardy venture into Iraq), while White Light is a breathless, disconcerting view of alcoholism/addiction/death/all of the above. You choose.
Disarming in its optimism, Dare is the band’s only number one single to date. It deviates from the usual Gorillaz format by being centred around the vocals of Noodle, the band’s female, Japanese guitarist. It also features the thick Manchester brogue of Shaun Ryder, who appears in the music video as a disembodied head hooked up in Noodle’s room.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uAOR6ib95kQ
Next comes the peculiar (mostly) spoken-word track, Fire Coming Out of the Monkey’s Head, which utilises the voice of late American actor and filmmaker Dennis Hopper. Ultimately the track’s meaning is open to conjecture, but there is an unmistakable parallel with American occupancy of the Middle East and the war for oil, a topic apparently at the forefront of Damon Albarn’s mind at the time.
… soon they began to mine the mountain, its rich seam fuelling the chaos of their own world. Meanwhile, down in the town, the Happyfolk slept restlessly, their dreams invaded by shadowy figures digging away at their souls.
The darkness swiftly recedes for the lullaby-like Don’t Get Lost in Heaven, before the title track, a suitably bizarre gospel summary of events, brings proceedings to an end. Demon Days will forever be one of my favourite albums. Sonically, it defies categorisation at every opportunity, flitting expertly between genres and collaborating with masters in each. It captures the complexity of human emotions amid the turmoil of a dark and dangerous world – with cartoons. If that’s not genius, nothing is.
This year will finally see a new record from Gorillaz, six years on from Plastic Beach and The Fall. The world has changed since Demon Days, but not necessarily for the better. The same dark clouds of terror loom, and the future looks bleak from certain perspectives. Whether that still includes the perspective of Damon Albarn, I’m not sure, but this year’s release will be an insight into that, and more, as the twisted virtual narrative of 2-D, Noodle, Murdoc and Russel rolls on.
Image: Pitchfork
Three years ago I celebrated my 18th birthday by heading to Brisbane’s Black Bear Lodge to see – on a friend’s recommendation – a local band called Cub Scouts. They were playing in aid of their new single Pool!. Of course, the unyielding legal force of Scouts Australia has since necessitated a name change, but Cub Sport (as they became in August of the same year) have continued to produce delightful indie pop music and accrue merit badges. This week finally sees the band release their debut album This Is Our Vice. And it’s not quite what I expected.
Before the first words of opening track Sun are even uttered, a change is noticeable. A swirling breeze of electronica – something one might expect from RÜFÜS or Miami Horror – enters your ears. But suddenly, yes, there are the angelic vocals of Tim Nelson, and normal service has all but resumed. What follows is a fluttering, summery track that dares to explore new territory, while reminding listeners what’s always been so enjoyable about Cub Sport’s inoffensive brand of boutique pop.
The band’s popular tactic of incorporating a simple yet infectious keyboard riff returns to great effect on I Can’t Save You, which is Cub Sport at their direct and dulcet best. It Kills Me tries a different approach; the bass is more prominent, the guitar work more taut and subtle. Its chorus is also probably the best example of the harmonies Cub Sport are so adept at. That said, however, Nelson’s vocals are stunning on Come On Mess Me Up, which in itself is a tender and relatable slice of life.
Cub Sport’s charming, familiar style of anecdote may not have changed, but This Is Our Vice is a markedly more full-sounding record. Older songs like Paradise and Evie were centred around effervescent keys and Nelson’s honey-soaked voice, almost to the point of being saccharine. A single or EP was pleasant enough, but, as Bruce Bogtrotter once taught us, a slice of cake is always better than the whole thing.
Pleasingly, the band’s new material has greater depth, at times channelling the likes of Beach House in its conveyance of human emotion. Only Friend – released as the lead single last September – exemplifies this beautifully. It combines all the elements I love about this album in a pulsing, understated fashion that differs greatly from the uncomplicated pop of Cub Sport’s embryonic years. Preceding Only Friend is I’m On Fire; its driving bass line and crashing cymbals, together with the most passionate vocals I’ve heard Tim Nelson produce, make it another standout track.
Runner is a delicate, twinkling song that sees Cub Sport reconnect with their endearing innocence, while I Don’t Love My Baby and I Feel Bad Now are candid and introspective, and solidify Cub Sport’s dynamic new identity. Closing track Vice is perhaps the least remarkable, but on a record brimming with charm and enthusiasm, that’s no great disappointment.
All in all, This Is Our Vice is an impressive debut from Cub Sport. Every aspect of the instrumentation and production displays the attributes of a more mature and accomplished band, while the improved subtlety and restraint of Nelson’s vocals, in comparison to earlier work, is both satisfying for listeners and, unsurprisingly, highly influential to the overall quality of the record. It’s been a few years and a name change in the making, but absolutely worth the wait.
Ten years ago, Los Angeles band Cold War Kids were on the brink of releasing their debut album. Entitled Robbers & Cowards, the album was characterised by robust bass lines and the morose, off-kilter vocals of Nathan Willett, which have largely come to define the band’s identity. Late 2014 saw Cold War Kids release their fifth, and most successful, album Hold My Home, which featured the band’s highest-charting single to date. First, which rose to number one on the US Billboard Alternative Charts in 2015, epitomises what is an outstanding album.
The intervening years have been lean, at times, for Cold War Kids, with their music not always receiving the critical acclaim they may have hoped for, and fans left bemused by changes in style. Flashes of potential were scattered among uneven or overworked ideas, with Willett’s untethered vocals dividing opinions.
Hold My Home is, finally, a return to form. It’s the band’s most consistent offering since Robbers & Cowards, and I quizzed bassist Matt Maust on this when I spoke to him ahead of Cold War Kids’ upcoming appearance at Bluesfest.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SZzJ78FWjl8
Firstly, Matt, congratulations on Hold My Home.
Thank you so much! It’s been great.
I have to say it’s one of your more consistent albums. Was consistency something you were particularly aiming for with it?
We had the spirit of Robbers & Cowards that we really wanted to capture again – not so much the songs, but more in the process and the spontaneity of it. We made our first record very spontaneously and very quickly without thinking too hard about it, and we definitely had a very similar vibe on Hold My Home. I think the songs are much more ‘four on the floor’ rock songs, but the spirit is very similar to the first record.
Was that a natural occurrence or did the opinions of critics and fans influence your mindset?
A little bit of both. You don’t think too far ahead; you just go with your gut feeling, and I think you just start in the studio and one thing leads to another and before you know it you have a record. You can’t really plan these things out too much.
The song First wasn’t even going to be on the record. It was kind of an afterthought; it was a demo we had that we’d messed around with for very little time and when the whole record was done we hadn’t even recorded the song. We slipped it in last minute.
I love the album, but for me First isn’t the standout track. Did its popularity surprise you at all?
Yeah, it totally did! We knew it was a great song, but it’s just one of those things – you can’t really plan it.
As a band you’ve had a few changes in personnel over the years. What impact does that have, creatively?
It’s a great way to stay fresh. You’re painting with different colours, and you have different thicknesses for the tips of your brushes. The instruments are the same, but there are slightly different colours that people can bring to the band. I love it when new people come in.
You’ve got a big year of touring ahead, with a trip to Australia followed by an appearance at Coachella. Do you tailor your set lists to keep yourselves entertained, or do you simply focus on what you think fans want to hear?
It’s more or less the latter. You need to stay focused, [and] you want to try and be really tight. For the festivals obviously you play more of the hits.
Are you often surprised by fans’ reactions to certain songs on tour?
Yeah! Actually, for the fifth record, Hold My Home, there were more people singing Drive Desperate and Go Quietly. That was really special to see – people signing on that early to this new record.
Is there a particular song that Australian crowds seem to enjoy more than others?
I notice that Australian crowds always like Royal Blue (from 2010’s Mine Is Yours) a lot… I don’t know why. I think that song might’ve got more radio play down there in Australia than it did in America.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GS8NYRLU-xs
Does going on tour feel more like work or a very busy holiday?
A little bit of both. The shows don’t feel like work. I always have this theory that they pay you for the waiting around and the monotonous travel, but the playing is free; it’s like that’s the dessert, the ice cream on top. I rarely get tired of playing shows.
How do you spend your spare time on tour?
I like to just walk, for one, and I love finding the art museums in cities. I have a love for art, and going to art museums; it’s real sacred, it’s real quiet, [and] it’s cool that I can look at paintings and sculptures from all these different artists. That’s one of the perks of the job.
The last time I saw you guys was at Splendour in the Grass in 2013. What’s changed most for the band since then?
I don’t think we had Matt Schwartz (vocals/keys/percussion/guitar) playing with us back then. He’s probably our biggest change. Matt joined us late in 2013, and he’s added a lot; he’s got a great voice as a back-up vocalist, he’s a multi-instrumentalist and he’s really filled out the band in a great way we’ve never had before. He sounds like a young Phil Collins.
From your perspective as a bassist, when you’re trying to get back to basics – as you were with Hold My Home – how important is the rhythm section to achieving that?
Oh, it’s there, it’s important. I like to keep it simple, though; I don’t do a lot of ‘noodling’. I always think you should feel a bass than really hear it.
Do you still find it easy enough to be creative as a bassist, or do you feel boxed in working with the other instruments?
You know, I never feel boxed in at all, but that’s a good question. I never get asked bass questions! What’s really important is that the song is good and that a listener can connect with the song. It’s a dangerous road to go down if you start thinking that any part is more important than another.
Is there any new music in the works yet, or are you just focused on touring Hold My Home?
We’re knee-deep in recording our sixth record right now and we’re going in next Monday to do some more songs. We keep at it! [Laughs]
More than a year on from the release of Hold My Home, do you feel you achieved what you set out to with it?
Yeah, it nailed it. I don’t want to think too much about it, because I know there’s bigger and better to come, record-wise. Having a number one, that’s something you always hope for and want but you never expect it, and then when it actually happens, it’s great; it’s cause for celebrations.
You can catch Cold War Kids on the following dates:
Sun, Mar 20: Metropolis, Fremantle
Tue, Mar 22: HQ, Adelaide
Thu, Mar 24: Bluesfest, Byron Bay
Fri, Mar 25: 170 Russell, Melbourne
Sat, Mar 26: Metro Theatre, Sydney
Buy tickets here.