In this new item I'll be posting the top five tracks that I've been listening to lately, updated every Tuesday as the title suggests.
Here's what I've been lacing my ears with over the past 7 days:
1. Samuel Truth - "Maya" - click on the song titles for track link
New Zealand has started to become one of my favourite go to places in the search of great new music. This track by Samuel Truth is absolutely stunning! My number one this week, gorgeous.
2. Drake - "Hold On, We're Going Home"
Not quite as underground as Samuel Truth, but this track is still fresh to my ears. Lovin it.
3. Jordan Rakai - "My Time"
A good friend of mine put me onto this recently. I was immediately drawn in by his voice and use of harmony. If the cover is anything to go by it looks like it could be home produced. If the guesses are true, my hat goes off to the guy, great stuff.
4. Bob Reynolds - "Feedback"
From his latest album Somewhere In Between, this is modern jazz sax at its best. Here, he gets together with tour buddy John Mayer to create a masterclass in musicianship.
5. Death Grips - "You might think he loves you for your money but I know what he really loves you for it's your brand new leapord skin pillbox hat"
These guys are absolutely off the effin' chain, balls out, nuts! Just have a look for yourselves really.
Hope you enjoy this weeks list, check back next Tuesday for another instalment.
Tuesday, November 26, 2013
Tuesday, November 19, 2013
JENSEN SPORTAG - STEALTH OF DAYS (ALBUM)
When I think of Nashville, straight up country music stereotypically comes to mind. A land of session musicians, enthusiastic young starlets trying their best to make it through the grinding cogs of the relentless music making machine. Which is why I found it surprising to discover that this is where etherial electronic soul/pop duo Jensen Sportag hail from.
Their debut album Stealth Of Days snugly fits around the ears like a cosy winter hat (you know the ones with the flaps). It’s such an intoxicating, goose bump inducing collection of tracks, that as a reviewer it’s difficult to know where to start.
The most notable traits are that it is full of little references, tips of the hat to bygone eras, most notably to the 1980’s - Toto’s “Africa” reverberates in the big snare hits, marimba lines and arpeggiated synths of “Light Through Lace”, while Michael Jacksons “Human Nature” is almost posthumously audible on the track “After Gardens”.
Stealth of Days is by no means just a love letter to the 80’s despite previous comparisons. Jensen Sportag remain utterly relevant to the present day music scene. The production and arrangement skills are breathtaking. Old and new sonic qualities are melded together perfectly to create nostalgic yet original soundscapes.
Whilst many electronic producers currently use a mix of beats, samples, vocals and loops to create their tracks, Jenson Sportag seem entirely to use originally composed parts to construct elegant, atmospheric music. It's a refreshing change from the norm, elevating them to the upper echelons of modern alternative R&B along with Frank Ocean, The Weeknd and How to Dress Well.
The tone of Jensen Sportag’s dark and moody first full length album is staggeringly mellow. It’s easy to forget where you are whilst listening so intently. Even the harshest of brightly lit rooms would seem to softly melt into a warm, hazy dreamlike oasis as the album soothes the listener into a synthy coma. For some however, this mellow atmosphere might become slightly tiresome after a while, as for the most part it moves at a relatively slow pace, so track skipping could become a frequent occurrence.
The lyrical content may leave some listeners heads slightly itchy, as at times they are a often difficult to decipher, and on the occasions where the lyrics are audible they can feel slightly uninspired and possibly a bit ‘shmatlzy’, as can be heard on “Six Senses” - “You were my angel, my little angel, now you’re my ghost”.
Stealth of Days will most likely divide opinion amongst avid listeners of modern electronic soul/R&B. For some it might be a little too slow and self involved to take seriously whilst for others it may feel like an ornate escape from reality.
It is an album drenched in etherial melodrama no doubt, but in this particular case I’m happy to get soaked.
Their debut album Stealth Of Days snugly fits around the ears like a cosy winter hat (you know the ones with the flaps). It’s such an intoxicating, goose bump inducing collection of tracks, that as a reviewer it’s difficult to know where to start.
The most notable traits are that it is full of little references, tips of the hat to bygone eras, most notably to the 1980’s - Toto’s “Africa” reverberates in the big snare hits, marimba lines and arpeggiated synths of “Light Through Lace”, while Michael Jacksons “Human Nature” is almost posthumously audible on the track “After Gardens”.
Stealth of Days is by no means just a love letter to the 80’s despite previous comparisons. Jensen Sportag remain utterly relevant to the present day music scene. The production and arrangement skills are breathtaking. Old and new sonic qualities are melded together perfectly to create nostalgic yet original soundscapes.
Whilst many electronic producers currently use a mix of beats, samples, vocals and loops to create their tracks, Jenson Sportag seem entirely to use originally composed parts to construct elegant, atmospheric music. It's a refreshing change from the norm, elevating them to the upper echelons of modern alternative R&B along with Frank Ocean, The Weeknd and How to Dress Well.
The tone of Jensen Sportag’s dark and moody first full length album is staggeringly mellow. It’s easy to forget where you are whilst listening so intently. Even the harshest of brightly lit rooms would seem to softly melt into a warm, hazy dreamlike oasis as the album soothes the listener into a synthy coma. For some however, this mellow atmosphere might become slightly tiresome after a while, as for the most part it moves at a relatively slow pace, so track skipping could become a frequent occurrence.
The lyrical content may leave some listeners heads slightly itchy, as at times they are a often difficult to decipher, and on the occasions where the lyrics are audible they can feel slightly uninspired and possibly a bit ‘shmatlzy’, as can be heard on “Six Senses” - “You were my angel, my little angel, now you’re my ghost”.
Stealth of Days will most likely divide opinion amongst avid listeners of modern electronic soul/R&B. For some it might be a little too slow and self involved to take seriously whilst for others it may feel like an ornate escape from reality.
It is an album drenched in etherial melodrama no doubt, but in this particular case I’m happy to get soaked.
"Stealth of Days" is available now on iTunes and for your listening pleasure here.
Tuesday, November 12, 2013
ELECTRIC WIRE HUSTLE - NUMBERS AND STEEL (SINGLE)
Revolution seems to be in the air at the moment. It's the topic of discussion on social media sites, televised political debates and most likely "down the boozer".
It's almost reminiscent of the 70's civil rights era. Comedians, actors and musicians have once again taken it upon themselves to become the figureheads and voices of this new sociocultural uprising.
New Zealand based hip-hop/soul collective Electric Wire Hustle, have been known to inject a certain left leaning political stance within their music, and their new single "Numbers and Steel" continues in this train of thought.
The track opens confidently with a militaristic clattering of what sounds like ominous Japanese Taiko drums imitating the relentless rhythm of corporate factories. Silky Motown strings and spaced out hip hop beats soon take over amongst various chopped samples, creating a rich, elegant soulful sound.
As well as the beautiful instrumental arrangement, there is no escaping the message of disillusionment that is highlighted throughout. One section of the song is cleverly constructed by using a vocal sample from what is presumably an interview with an everyday American man, clearly disenchanted with the world he is surrounded by.
"Don't support the phonies, support the real, you know what I mean?...they don't care about our communities"
Mara TK's falsetto Marvin Gaye style vocals are absolutely transcendent. His hollers of "I've got to get away" reverberate and swirl effortlessly, reflecting an attitude of rejection, despair and utter ennui towards an increasingly oppressive, capitalistic and materialistic world.
Mara described the lyrical content in a recent interview:
"This track is a response to city life; there are references to Capitalism in there, birds of prey, red lines, uprising, digging for change, Numbers and Steel"* - Mara TK
The four piece strike the perfect balance between Gaye style soulfulness, J Dilla-esque production (notably the signature"boom-bap" drum sound") and their own unique zest, generating a powerful and formidable end result.
Whether you are in the mood for revolution or not, this track is most definitely worth taking the time to listen to. Electric Wire Hustle have produced an outstanding single, exciting fans and whetting appetites for their upcoming sophomore album entitled Love Can Prevail/Blackwater.
"Numbers and Steel" from the upcoming "Love Can Prevail/Blackwater" LP can be listened to and downloaded for free here.
*Quote from an interview by "Zo" on okayplayer.com
It's almost reminiscent of the 70's civil rights era. Comedians, actors and musicians have once again taken it upon themselves to become the figureheads and voices of this new sociocultural uprising.
New Zealand based hip-hop/soul collective Electric Wire Hustle, have been known to inject a certain left leaning political stance within their music, and their new single "Numbers and Steel" continues in this train of thought.
The track opens confidently with a militaristic clattering of what sounds like ominous Japanese Taiko drums imitating the relentless rhythm of corporate factories. Silky Motown strings and spaced out hip hop beats soon take over amongst various chopped samples, creating a rich, elegant soulful sound.
As well as the beautiful instrumental arrangement, there is no escaping the message of disillusionment that is highlighted throughout. One section of the song is cleverly constructed by using a vocal sample from what is presumably an interview with an everyday American man, clearly disenchanted with the world he is surrounded by.
"Don't support the phonies, support the real, you know what I mean?...they don't care about our communities"
Mara TK's falsetto Marvin Gaye style vocals are absolutely transcendent. His hollers of "I've got to get away" reverberate and swirl effortlessly, reflecting an attitude of rejection, despair and utter ennui towards an increasingly oppressive, capitalistic and materialistic world.
Mara described the lyrical content in a recent interview:
"This track is a response to city life; there are references to Capitalism in there, birds of prey, red lines, uprising, digging for change, Numbers and Steel"* - Mara TK
The four piece strike the perfect balance between Gaye style soulfulness, J Dilla-esque production (notably the signature"boom-bap" drum sound") and their own unique zest, generating a powerful and formidable end result.
Whether you are in the mood for revolution or not, this track is most definitely worth taking the time to listen to. Electric Wire Hustle have produced an outstanding single, exciting fans and whetting appetites for their upcoming sophomore album entitled Love Can Prevail/Blackwater.
"Numbers and Steel" from the upcoming "Love Can Prevail/Blackwater" LP can be listened to and downloaded for free here.
*Quote from an interview by "Zo" on okayplayer.com
Wednesday, November 6, 2013
LOU REED...GENIUS?
"Death makes angels of us all..." - Jim Morrison.
Just now, I'm sitting in an Edinburgh coffee shop. Amongst the chatter, "Perfect Day" by the recently deceased Lou Reed solemnly laments in the background. I think to myself "they probably wouldn't be playing this if he wasn't dead". I hate to think in such a cynical way but I can't shake the feeling. I felt it when Michael Jackson died too. As soon as he popped his moonwalking clogs, people couldn't get enough of him and his music, whereas a few weeks prior to his passing, they were all still joking that he was some sort of modern day "Spring Heeled Jack" nonce. Fortunately for us all, Lou left no such legacy.
My life is dedicated to music, I'm in awe of it. If I were a Christian, I would be a "filthy sinner" because I bow down and worship it like it's some sort of false idol. When I meet someone for the first time, the first question likely to come lumbering out of my mouth would probably be "what kind of music are you into?". In my 26 years on this planet, no one so far has ever replied with "I'm a massive Lou Reed fan". Maybe that says more about the circles I move in than the validity of my research though.
I'm not really aware of the cultural impact Lou Reed has had, but since his passing, he has been heralded by many as a "genius". I can't help but feel that this term is thrown around far too often. It gets pinned on people like a sort of jaded, yellowing Blue Peter badge (especially when awarded posthumously). It makes me wonder about the artists we have today. Once they enter the cold dark recesses of the afterlife, who else will be knighted with the accolade of 'genius'? We can but speculate.
I don't think we should carry on down this road of being so unashamedly sycophantic towards the recently deceased. Respect is due of course, but I feel it warps people's perception of the art that carries on living. Saying that, I don't suppose "Lou Reed passed away today, he was pretty good at the ol' music thing..." makes for a very good obituary. It's not sexy enough, not strong enough.
As I finished that last sentence, the Amy Wineouse song "Love Is a Losing Game" begins to softy pump through the speakers like a delicate heartbeat from beyond the grave. It immediately fills me with nostalgia. My mind races to a time where she still lived, breathed, drank and drugged.
Amy's passing was tragic and all too soon, undeniably a wonderful and beautiful talent. The word genius was also thrown around after her death too. She oozed emotion from her very core and sang with extreme passion but unfortunately as most of us know, her life and career was marred by the terrible disease of addiction. I fear this is what she will be remembered for the most. Much like her now legendary predecessors Kurt Cobain and Janice Joplin she will go down in history as part of the "27 club", snuffed out by fame, drugs and alcohol and yet the word genius still remains for her and her fellow club members.
Death makes chameleons of us all maybe. It alters how people think of and remember us after we're gone. Dull browns turn to vibrant reds, blues, yellows and magentas. Why can't we achieve this status of whilst we are still alive? Surely that would be better? Maybe that's what Facebook and Twitter are for. We can all be dead on there...
Just now, I'm sitting in an Edinburgh coffee shop. Amongst the chatter, "Perfect Day" by the recently deceased Lou Reed solemnly laments in the background. I think to myself "they probably wouldn't be playing this if he wasn't dead". I hate to think in such a cynical way but I can't shake the feeling. I felt it when Michael Jackson died too. As soon as he popped his moonwalking clogs, people couldn't get enough of him and his music, whereas a few weeks prior to his passing, they were all still joking that he was some sort of modern day "Spring Heeled Jack" nonce. Fortunately for us all, Lou left no such legacy.
My life is dedicated to music, I'm in awe of it. If I were a Christian, I would be a "filthy sinner" because I bow down and worship it like it's some sort of false idol. When I meet someone for the first time, the first question likely to come lumbering out of my mouth would probably be "what kind of music are you into?". In my 26 years on this planet, no one so far has ever replied with "I'm a massive Lou Reed fan". Maybe that says more about the circles I move in than the validity of my research though.
I'm not really aware of the cultural impact Lou Reed has had, but since his passing, he has been heralded by many as a "genius". I can't help but feel that this term is thrown around far too often. It gets pinned on people like a sort of jaded, yellowing Blue Peter badge (especially when awarded posthumously). It makes me wonder about the artists we have today. Once they enter the cold dark recesses of the afterlife, who else will be knighted with the accolade of 'genius'? We can but speculate.
I don't think we should carry on down this road of being so unashamedly sycophantic towards the recently deceased. Respect is due of course, but I feel it warps people's perception of the art that carries on living. Saying that, I don't suppose "Lou Reed passed away today, he was pretty good at the ol' music thing..." makes for a very good obituary. It's not sexy enough, not strong enough.
As I finished that last sentence, the Amy Wineouse song "Love Is a Losing Game" begins to softy pump through the speakers like a delicate heartbeat from beyond the grave. It immediately fills me with nostalgia. My mind races to a time where she still lived, breathed, drank and drugged.
Amy's passing was tragic and all too soon, undeniably a wonderful and beautiful talent. The word genius was also thrown around after her death too. She oozed emotion from her very core and sang with extreme passion but unfortunately as most of us know, her life and career was marred by the terrible disease of addiction. I fear this is what she will be remembered for the most. Much like her now legendary predecessors Kurt Cobain and Janice Joplin she will go down in history as part of the "27 club", snuffed out by fame, drugs and alcohol and yet the word genius still remains for her and her fellow club members.
Death makes chameleons of us all maybe. It alters how people think of and remember us after we're gone. Dull browns turn to vibrant reds, blues, yellows and magentas. Why can't we achieve this status of whilst we are still alive? Surely that would be better? Maybe that's what Facebook and Twitter are for. We can all be dead on there...
JOHN MAYER - LIVE AT THE 02 ARENA, LONDON - 20TH OCTOBER
It’s been a long time since I’ve been to a gig where the support act has had way more of an impact on me than the headliner. I can’t even remember the last time that such a phenomenon occurred.
John Mayer is back on a long overdue tour after a lengthy battle with a vocal chord granuloma (basically an unpleasant lump in his neck), which rendered him literally voiceless for the best part of six months. Some say this was a godsend. Unfortunately, aside from his music he is also known for often saying things he later regrets in high profile interviews. However on this tour it is clear that he has set out to do one thing only and that is to play music, the one thing that he is consistently brilliant at.
I have had the privilege of seeing John Mayer on a number of occasions, each with slight variations to his band roster. This time in London’s O2 Arena however, he came equipped with a completely different arsenal of musicians. Exciting as this was, it became apparent after a few songs, that they were still going through minor teething issues within a live setting. Compared with past incarnations something just didn’t seem as tight. Maybe it was his new “anything goes” gung ho attitude to performing that has led to this unfortunate slip, or maybe they are still gaining momentum as a collective, who knows. However the strongest connection it has to be said, was definitely between John and the astounding Aaron Sterling (the drummer on Mayer’s latest country inspired album Paradise Valley), both of them lead the band with infectious chemistry that seemed to shine even brighter than the large impressive high definition screen looming behind them - beaming images of towering canyons, beautifully lit night skies and hypnotic moving landscapes. The visuals were a complete treat, extremely lavish and unashamedly overt, but the passion and energy emitting from the stage was far more impressive. It felt as if John had discovered a new lease for life after the dark cloud of the tabloids had all but stripped him of his credibility and nearly taken everything from him.
After the release of Born and Raised (his most laid back and mellow acoustic album to date), there was fear amongst fans that the days of his bombastic and jaw dropping guitaristic acrobatics were numbered. This couldn’t have been further from the truth after witnessing the astounding skill he displayed that night at the O2. He stayed true to his bluesy roots by ripping through solo after solo, taking good care not to overpower his “new sound” along the way. The set was punctuated with older classics such as “Slow Dancing in a Burning Room”, “I Don’t Trust Myself” and even going as far back as “Why Georgia”, enough to keep the most die hard of fans all nodding their heads in approval.
Whilst Mayer’s performance was, as to be expected, nothing short of exceptional, for me it was the opening act that completely stole the show and along with many other audience members, my heart. Gabrielle Aplin was her name. At just twenty one years of age, she found herself plonked on a stage in front of eighteen thousand people, dwarfed by Mayers backline which at this point was covered with ominous black cloaking, a sign to the audience that “The big boys” were yet to come out and play. All of this however didn’t seem to faze the Aplin. As soon as her beautiful, pure, soaring voice echoed throughout the O2, the still gathering hoards of JM fans stood still in awe, her talent almost palpable. Her set though short, was near perfect. Of course there were the odd shouts of “we want John!” from the depths of the beast, emanating from an an obviously intoxicated gig-goer. This however did not detract from the brilliance that we were witnessing. Moving from folky, acoustic guitar driven pop songs to powerful piano ballads backed by an equally talented and young looking band, Gabrielle managed to conjure up a feeling in me that I hadn’t felt from a gig in a seriously long time. Aside from being impressed by gazing at incredibly incandescent stage lighting or being pulled in by the alluring HD screens that Mayer had to offer, this was something pure of heart, not yet tainted by celebrity status or marred by daily-mail-esque vitriol. No, Gabrielle was there to join John on a quest to give one thing to the masses...good music.
John Mayer is back on a long overdue tour after a lengthy battle with a vocal chord granuloma (basically an unpleasant lump in his neck), which rendered him literally voiceless for the best part of six months. Some say this was a godsend. Unfortunately, aside from his music he is also known for often saying things he later regrets in high profile interviews. However on this tour it is clear that he has set out to do one thing only and that is to play music, the one thing that he is consistently brilliant at.
I have had the privilege of seeing John Mayer on a number of occasions, each with slight variations to his band roster. This time in London’s O2 Arena however, he came equipped with a completely different arsenal of musicians. Exciting as this was, it became apparent after a few songs, that they were still going through minor teething issues within a live setting. Compared with past incarnations something just didn’t seem as tight. Maybe it was his new “anything goes” gung ho attitude to performing that has led to this unfortunate slip, or maybe they are still gaining momentum as a collective, who knows. However the strongest connection it has to be said, was definitely between John and the astounding Aaron Sterling (the drummer on Mayer’s latest country inspired album Paradise Valley), both of them lead the band with infectious chemistry that seemed to shine even brighter than the large impressive high definition screen looming behind them - beaming images of towering canyons, beautifully lit night skies and hypnotic moving landscapes. The visuals were a complete treat, extremely lavish and unashamedly overt, but the passion and energy emitting from the stage was far more impressive. It felt as if John had discovered a new lease for life after the dark cloud of the tabloids had all but stripped him of his credibility and nearly taken everything from him.
After the release of Born and Raised (his most laid back and mellow acoustic album to date), there was fear amongst fans that the days of his bombastic and jaw dropping guitaristic acrobatics were numbered. This couldn’t have been further from the truth after witnessing the astounding skill he displayed that night at the O2. He stayed true to his bluesy roots by ripping through solo after solo, taking good care not to overpower his “new sound” along the way. The set was punctuated with older classics such as “Slow Dancing in a Burning Room”, “I Don’t Trust Myself” and even going as far back as “Why Georgia”, enough to keep the most die hard of fans all nodding their heads in approval.
Whilst Mayer’s performance was, as to be expected, nothing short of exceptional, for me it was the opening act that completely stole the show and along with many other audience members, my heart. Gabrielle Aplin was her name. At just twenty one years of age, she found herself plonked on a stage in front of eighteen thousand people, dwarfed by Mayers backline which at this point was covered with ominous black cloaking, a sign to the audience that “The big boys” were yet to come out and play. All of this however didn’t seem to faze the Aplin. As soon as her beautiful, pure, soaring voice echoed throughout the O2, the still gathering hoards of JM fans stood still in awe, her talent almost palpable. Her set though short, was near perfect. Of course there were the odd shouts of “we want John!” from the depths of the beast, emanating from an an obviously intoxicated gig-goer. This however did not detract from the brilliance that we were witnessing. Moving from folky, acoustic guitar driven pop songs to powerful piano ballads backed by an equally talented and young looking band, Gabrielle managed to conjure up a feeling in me that I hadn’t felt from a gig in a seriously long time. Aside from being impressed by gazing at incredibly incandescent stage lighting or being pulled in by the alluring HD screens that Mayer had to offer, this was something pure of heart, not yet tainted by celebrity status or marred by daily-mail-esque vitriol. No, Gabrielle was there to join John on a quest to give one thing to the masses...good music.
Mission accomplished.
BRETT DENNEN - SMOKE AND MIRRORS (ALBUM)
Brett Dennen is unique... almost objectively so. He survives, thrives and is held in high regard (amongst those in the know), in a world of popular music that more often than not, regards image more important than substance.
His sound along with his image is almost reminiscent of Neil Young or Bob Dylan. Not because his music literally sounds anything like the two, but because he emits pure originality, free from the constricts of conventional aesthetic and sonic tropes. With pure heart, soul and evident passion, Dennen emanates beauty from every strum of the guitar and squeeze of his unconventional but wonderfully distinctive vocal chords.
On his latest collection of tracks from his 5th studio album entitled Smoke and Mirrors, Brett lives up to this gushing sycophancy. The opening track “Sweet Persuasion” moves along at a pace that you can’t help but move to yourself. Short and sweet clocking in at just three minutes two seconds, it says what it needs to say. The guitars bob along like a joyful rubber duck down a steady river with almost Paul Simon like flare, all this accompanied by an understated yet perfectly matched rhythm section. The cherry on the cake is Dennen’s brilliant voice, there’s just something peculiarly enticing about it. “Sweet Persuasion” is a wonderful track about seduction (or persuasion as the title infers) in the cutest way possible. I defy the heaviest of hearts not to feel uplifted by it.
The rest of the album happily follows suit taking the listener on a breezy, sun filled journey, margaritas and a BBQ would be a very fitting accompaniment indeed. Other notable tracks include “When we were young” - It’s surprising opening soft synth riff is closely reminiscent of Pulps “Common People”, it swiftly morphs however into what could have been a summer anthem for any weary recent university graduates. This sounds like a bad thing, but considering todays job employment rate this is exactly what that demographic needs! The albums title track is a sleepy lullaby dissecting a dying relationship - “Don’t let smoke and mirrors make it cloudy. The truth you cannot see is hard to define” - it’s clear just from listening to this song that Brett Dennen has encountered some serious heartbreak in his time, and it’s excruciatingly hard not to empathise for him. The song is almost painfully beautiful, with backing vocals that Crosby Stills and Nash would be proud of. A must for anyone with a heart!
As I write this, it’s a typically “Scottish” October night outside (anyone who has spent any time here during this month will know it has the propensity to be particularly ‘dreich’) but listening to this album I could just as well be on an open top road trip down to Laurel Canyon, or sipping beers with a group of close friends in a park somewhere. It just has a good feel to it. If you haven’t heard of Brett Dennen and just want to get to the good stuff, this would be a great album to start out with.
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