ALBUM ROUND-UP JAN/FEB 2019 inc TOY, Nils Frahm, Bob Mould, Rustin Man, James Blake, Bill Pritchard and more
TOY - Happy In The Hollow - Tough Love
Album number four sees the Brighton outfit dispel all rumours that they're really closet psych-heads by releasing their most accessible long-player to date. This doesn't mean the quality has dipped or that they've gone 'crossover', merely that the other sensibilities in their music have been allowed to come to the fore, namely folksy melodies, ethereal harmonies and a sense of atmosphere that seemed to all but disappear after the band's debut.
Single The Willo might initially come across as trippy hippy but spread over seven minutes it shows how far TOY have come as a band - in it for the duration, one could speculate. Last Warmth Of The Day is terrific stuff - borne out of a cross between Tales of the Unexpected, Girl You'll Be a Woman Soon and sun-drenched beach hang-outs, it's one of the album's many highpoints.
I like where TOY are heading, musically. Charlie's House might be 'just' an instrumental but it's prettiness evokes Red House Painters or Felt, while albums closer Move Through the Dark recalls Jesus and Mary Chain minus the muscle, but double the warmth. Their finest opus so far. 8/10
Nils Frahm - Encores 2 - Erased Tapes
The mainstay of treated keyboards and atmospheric melancholia returns with exactly that. Sounding like it was recorded within a vintage set-up - Frahm utilised a stone-well he sourced from Mallorca, as you do - there's a resonance present here that sounds like all the great ambient records issued on Sky, Editions EG and ECM during the '80s with added Harold Budd-isms throughout. A Walking Embrace is like an offcut from Roger Eno's criminally forgotten Voices album, while the sprawling Spells might have been on R&S's celebrated imprint Apollo, all busy and chattering away with triggered synths and echoes aplenty. Frahm's ability to craft a melody is to be savoured and this eclipses his most recent few albums. 8/10
James Blake - Assume Form - Polydor
Blake became something of an enigma during his short stay on R&S and his debut album issued some eight years ago remains something of an atmospheric electronica landmark. Since then, his palette has broadened and transformed into a somewhat more marketable proposition with occasional production work in the RnB field, collaborations with Kendrick Lamar and Mount Kimbie and less glitchiness all round. Assume Form sees Blake become something of a polished crooner in his own right with enough clout to draw in contributions from the likes of Travis Scott, Rosalia and Outkast's Andre 3000. For all these undoubtedly talented interjections however, Assume Form is something of a disappointment. Gone is the edginess of his debut-album and the warmth of 2013's Overgrown, replaced by featherbeats that Zomby and subsequent drill-rappers have been peddling for more than half-a-decade. Standout track Can't Believe They Way We Flow is superb though, liquid, hypnotic, harmonious and mesmerising, while the closing Lullaby For My Insomniac is Blake at his choirboy best. 6/10
Rustin Man - Drift Code
Formerly Talk Talk's bassist, collaborator with the band's drummer Lee Harris on O.Rang and previously sharing the Rustin Man spoils with Portishead's Beth Gibbons, there's little surprise that this follow-up to 2002's Out Of Season bears some lineage from all three former projects. This time around, Webb has enlisted his own voice, a melange of his own fragile crooning, Robert Wyatt and old oppo Mark Hollis, soundtracked by what might be described as a contemporary delta-blues or swamp-folk, inspired by his local Essex countryside, family life and years of living in relative seclusion. Far from comfortable listening yet hook-laden to the brim, Drift Code retains a certain amount of uneasiness throughout its 37 minutes although opener although Vanishing Heart is the closest Webb comes to a radio 'hit' sleeper. Elsewhere Brings Me Joy recalls the Gavin Bryars epic Jesus Blood Never Failed Me Yet, all spiritual and wide-eyed, Judgement Train strengthens the blues comparable and closer All Summer isn't dissimilar to Guy Garvey's husky and sanguine ouevre. 7/10
Bob Mould - Sunshine Rock
The Sugar man continues his prolific solo renaissance with his 13th album and his 8th this century. Mould's melodic powerhouse pop-rock rarely fails to impress, with just about every album after the inconsistent Body Of Song of 2005 getting louder, faster and shorter. Sunshine Rock is as apt a title as you could get - this is a righteous collection of intelligent fist-pumping guitar anthems that showcase Mould's unerring ability to craft great tunes and kinda have you wishing for long summer days and no arseholes in the world. Sadly, the latter will probably never happen but what is assured is Sunshine Rock's place in post-grunge history as a straight-up classic. Every track on here, bar perhaps Camp Sunshine, could be a single in a parallel universe with the pick of the bunch being the title track, What Do You Want Me To Do?, Irrational Poison and the album's magnificent closer Western Sunset. There is no let-up in quality and the usual recipe of guitar riffs, relentless drums and Mould's trademark drawl is accompanied by flourishes of unobtrusive keyboards and strings. 9/10
Coldharbourstores - Vesta
Firmly ensconced within the realms of dream-pop, this established London quartet has garnered praise for its wholesome output thus far. Mind you, it took the band three years into its life to conjure up a debut-album and a further fourteen to follow it up with 2016's Wilderness. Thankfully, we're back on a three-year-cycle with this third full-length opus. Produced with Bark Psychosis stalwart Graham Sutton and dressed in a V23-style sleeve by Martin Andersen, Vesta continues on from Wilderness with added sparkle and atmospherics thrown in. Opener Castle sets the tone for the following 30-plus minutes with grandiose synths, crystalline beats and soaring vocals, a mix that recalls Sarah McLachlan, Single Gun Theory and later darkwavers Marnie, Marsheaux and M83 offshoot White Sea. The glorious single Disenchantment is perhaps the poppiest standout here, while the moody Champagne and Blood and Speak You Me certainly possess a certain amount of '80s-era 4AD or The Chameleons. There is little to quibble about with Vesta - it's chilly presence won't leave you out in the cold. 7/10
Bill Pritchard - Midland Lullabies
Oh to see Mr Pritchard acclaimed for his songwriting endeavours over the past few decades. Instead the Staffordshire terrier has merely nipped at the heels of success rather than mauled them. In more recent times under the wing of Germany's go-to songwriter's haven Tapete, Pritchard's star has started to shine again with little evidence of his dry, deadpan delivery falling flat anytime soon. Midland Lullabies is a predominantly acoustic album with piano-led balladry and jaunty jangle-pop throughout, dressed up in '60s gaiety with a Vaudevillian bent and a nod to the European influences of old. The Last Temptation of Brussels and Thanks standout from the crowd with melodic nuances and colourful lyrics, while the descriptive Iolanda and string-driven Grow are the equal of anything Pritchard has delivered before. Midland Lullabies is perhaps a more intimate album than its recent predecessors yet welcomes all with open arms. 8/10
Album number four sees the Brighton outfit dispel all rumours that they're really closet psych-heads by releasing their most accessible long-player to date. This doesn't mean the quality has dipped or that they've gone 'crossover', merely that the other sensibilities in their music have been allowed to come to the fore, namely folksy melodies, ethereal harmonies and a sense of atmosphere that seemed to all but disappear after the band's debut.Single The Willo might initially come across as trippy hippy but spread over seven minutes it shows how far TOY have come as a band - in it for the duration, one could speculate. Last Warmth Of The Day is terrific stuff - borne out of a cross between Tales of the Unexpected, Girl You'll Be a Woman Soon and sun-drenched beach hang-outs, it's one of the album's many highpoints.
I like where TOY are heading, musically. Charlie's House might be 'just' an instrumental but it's prettiness evokes Red House Painters or Felt, while albums closer Move Through the Dark recalls Jesus and Mary Chain minus the muscle, but double the warmth. Their finest opus so far. 8/10
The mainstay of treated keyboards and atmospheric melancholia returns with exactly that. Sounding like it was recorded within a vintage set-up - Frahm utilised a stone-well he sourced from Mallorca, as you do - there's a resonance present here that sounds like all the great ambient records issued on Sky, Editions EG and ECM during the '80s with added Harold Budd-isms throughout. A Walking Embrace is like an offcut from Roger Eno's criminally forgotten Voices album, while the sprawling Spells might have been on R&S's celebrated imprint Apollo, all busy and chattering away with triggered synths and echoes aplenty. Frahm's ability to craft a melody is to be savoured and this eclipses his most recent few albums. 8/10
Blake became something of an enigma during his short stay on R&S and his debut album issued some eight years ago remains something of an atmospheric electronica landmark. Since then, his palette has broadened and transformed into a somewhat more marketable proposition with occasional production work in the RnB field, collaborations with Kendrick Lamar and Mount Kimbie and less glitchiness all round. Assume Form sees Blake become something of a polished crooner in his own right with enough clout to draw in contributions from the likes of Travis Scott, Rosalia and Outkast's Andre 3000. For all these undoubtedly talented interjections however, Assume Form is something of a disappointment. Gone is the edginess of his debut-album and the warmth of 2013's Overgrown, replaced by featherbeats that Zomby and subsequent drill-rappers have been peddling for more than half-a-decade. Standout track Can't Believe They Way We Flow is superb though, liquid, hypnotic, harmonious and mesmerising, while the closing Lullaby For My Insomniac is Blake at his choirboy best. 6/10
Formerly Talk Talk's bassist, collaborator with the band's drummer Lee Harris on O.Rang and previously sharing the Rustin Man spoils with Portishead's Beth Gibbons, there's little surprise that this follow-up to 2002's Out Of Season bears some lineage from all three former projects. This time around, Webb has enlisted his own voice, a melange of his own fragile crooning, Robert Wyatt and old oppo Mark Hollis, soundtracked by what might be described as a contemporary delta-blues or swamp-folk, inspired by his local Essex countryside, family life and years of living in relative seclusion. Far from comfortable listening yet hook-laden to the brim, Drift Code retains a certain amount of uneasiness throughout its 37 minutes although opener although Vanishing Heart is the closest Webb comes to a radio 'hit' sleeper. Elsewhere Brings Me Joy recalls the Gavin Bryars epic Jesus Blood Never Failed Me Yet, all spiritual and wide-eyed, Judgement Train strengthens the blues comparable and closer All Summer isn't dissimilar to Guy Garvey's husky and sanguine ouevre. 7/10
The Sugar man continues his prolific solo renaissance with his 13th album and his 8th this century. Mould's melodic powerhouse pop-rock rarely fails to impress, with just about every album after the inconsistent Body Of Song of 2005 getting louder, faster and shorter. Sunshine Rock is as apt a title as you could get - this is a righteous collection of intelligent fist-pumping guitar anthems that showcase Mould's unerring ability to craft great tunes and kinda have you wishing for long summer days and no arseholes in the world. Sadly, the latter will probably never happen but what is assured is Sunshine Rock's place in post-grunge history as a straight-up classic. Every track on here, bar perhaps Camp Sunshine, could be a single in a parallel universe with the pick of the bunch being the title track, What Do You Want Me To Do?, Irrational Poison and the album's magnificent closer Western Sunset. There is no let-up in quality and the usual recipe of guitar riffs, relentless drums and Mould's trademark drawl is accompanied by flourishes of unobtrusive keyboards and strings. 9/10
Firmly ensconced within the realms of dream-pop, this established London quartet has garnered praise for its wholesome output thus far. Mind you, it took the band three years into its life to conjure up a debut-album and a further fourteen to follow it up with 2016's Wilderness. Thankfully, we're back on a three-year-cycle with this third full-length opus. Produced with Bark Psychosis stalwart Graham Sutton and dressed in a V23-style sleeve by Martin Andersen, Vesta continues on from Wilderness with added sparkle and atmospherics thrown in. Opener Castle sets the tone for the following 30-plus minutes with grandiose synths, crystalline beats and soaring vocals, a mix that recalls Sarah McLachlan, Single Gun Theory and later darkwavers Marnie, Marsheaux and M83 offshoot White Sea. The glorious single Disenchantment is perhaps the poppiest standout here, while the moody Champagne and Blood and Speak You Me certainly possess a certain amount of '80s-era 4AD or The Chameleons. There is little to quibble about with Vesta - it's chilly presence won't leave you out in the cold. 7/10
Oh to see Mr Pritchard acclaimed for his songwriting endeavours over the past few decades. Instead the Staffordshire terrier has merely nipped at the heels of success rather than mauled them. In more recent times under the wing of Germany's go-to songwriter's haven Tapete, Pritchard's star has started to shine again with little evidence of his dry, deadpan delivery falling flat anytime soon. Midland Lullabies is a predominantly acoustic album with piano-led balladry and jaunty jangle-pop throughout, dressed up in '60s gaiety with a Vaudevillian bent and a nod to the European influences of old. The Last Temptation of Brussels and Thanks standout from the crowd with melodic nuances and colourful lyrics, while the descriptive Iolanda and string-driven Grow are the equal of anything Pritchard has delivered before. Midland Lullabies is perhaps a more intimate album than its recent predecessors yet welcomes all with open arms. 8/10