Writing about a band that have only one song out is quite tough, but if they create something beautiful then it makes life a little bit easier. And more enjoyable. The last time I did this was when I heard Saint Lou Lou last year and everything changed from then on. How I listened to music after hearing Maybe You was different. I paid more attention to the hidden beauty in the music, and how at times vocals can be made to more vulnerable than the words.
London Grammar are three extremely talented souls from London who make you think, “If Imogen Heap did something with Youth Lagoon, then this is how it would sound.” I adore Imogen Heap and Youth Lagoon so this is pretty much going to be an obsession I have zero control over, not that I mind; far from it.
They have one song (so far) called Hey Now which from the very first note feels like the sun creeping out on a dull day. The vocals ease you, like something warm on a Winter’s day. Why go out and play in the snow when you can stay indoors and feel the beauty and heat from music like this. I’d be utterly content with not hearing anything else but Hey Now for a while. This is the kind of song you play when you are making a long, painful journey to somewhere you hate (mine is London to the Isle of Man because I don’t think anyone gets how much I hate coming back to this piss-stain of an Island.) I can imagine playing this song over and over until my rage towards returning is replaced with, “You can leave again soon.”
Hey Now is 3 and a half minutes of purity and ethereal vibes that could tame anyone, that could melt the coldest of hearts. I think the song has been out just over a month, I’m not entirely sure. I’ve only just heard it but I know it’s going to be one of th and gorgeous songs I will hear all year. Every year I seem to find one song during the first few months of the year, then compare everything else I hear over the year to it. I think I’ve found my song. Everything I hear now will be compared to how stunning this song is, and how will every listen to just hear something else to fall in love with. Completely and utterly. I know nothing about London Grammar, but I do know that they are 3 people who make music to just lose yourself in without a care in the world. Hey Now is like a gentle hand on the shoulder telling you it is all going to be alright, even if you feel otherwise. Maybe, just maybe….it will be.
I didn’t find Dallas Frasca on my own. No no, instead a good friend from the other side of the world just pointed them out to me (Mark, he’s in a band called Royal Chant and they’re the best people I have yet to meet but we are friends regardless.) I always listen to suggestions, and when I do I seem to take my time in writing about them because I can be quite lazy. Yet there are instances where I listen to something and I simply just HAVE to write about them.
Dallas Frasca are another wonderful band from Australia, but they sound like they are from the murky depths of Nashville. The kind of band Jack White would love to get his hands on, and make them collaborate with Seasick Steve. In my head, this is going to happen. It has to happen. I’ve got a bit excited over this. Dallas’ vocals are so powerful, even if you don’t have the volume turned up loud; her vocals will still blow your mind and tear your eardrums in the most beautiful way possible.
Their song, All My Love is the good side of catchy (doesn’t take a genius to work out the bad things that are catchy really does it.) Her vocals on this are so empowering and glorious. I cannot help but wonder how people go on about their daily lives without hearing such a band like this. There are hints of Blues and the true essence of Country in their music. It is like, Townes Van Zandt meets Muddy Waters. My kind of music.
I feel a bit silly writing about Dallas Frasca because they are a band that simply require no words. All you need to do is listen to them, maybe with someone next to you and you both nod in agreement (and in awe) of how fantastic they are. Nothing about them makes you feel like you are in this era; you feel as if you are in a past life where music was actually of worth and had some meaning. Of course there are bands around that give music some bloody meaning, but a lot just prance about for money. There’s no passion there. I’m going by record here, and I can truly hear the passion in the way Dallas, Samuel and Jeff play. There’s so much strength in their music that just makes you believe in them.
Loaded Silence is 5 minutes of making you feel like you are invincible. A feeling that I am not entirely familiar with; but will enjoy when felt. Burnt Toast is ridiculous. Dallas’ voice on this posses that delicate growl that’s only ever been heard in one other: Janis Joplin. Everything about Dallas Frasca just blows my mind. I don’t know if I could look at someone in the eye who didn’t fall even slightly in love with them.
I think most have heard people say that the true essence of Rock & Roll is dead, or that guitar music is bland. These are the people who probably buy into reality shows. Thing is, that’s not reality. It doesn’t take a modern-day Einstein to realise that those programmes are rigged to high heaven, utterly disgusting and disrespectful to those making music for the RIGHT reasons. That’s a completely different subject, and will end up with me being called various names. I don’t fancy that right now. Dallas Frasca are pure Rock & Roll. They are on a different level to most things out there, and the thing that makes them so accessible and easy to love is that every word sung by Dallas is true.
The Blues influence here is something that immediately lured me in, and I doubt I’ll be crawling out anytime soon.
I’m a huge wuss of life, and I always cry at anything to do with animals. I watched a programme about polar bears earlier and cried because they were asleep and made a cute snoring noise. Somewhere, somehow something went drastically went wrong with me. I was meant to be tough, but I went the opposite way. Which I guess is why I love music that is partially creepy and utterly dark. I’ve found a band that will become an obsession, like my love for Pop.1280 amongst others.
K-Holes are from New York. There aren’t many shit bands from New York. Obviously there could be, but I won’t tell you about them. I’ll give you the good ones. K-Holes make a lot of noise. They aren’t really for people who enjoy the quiet things in life. Although that seems daft because I like the quiet but I love loud bands. So I guess I just fucked myself over on that. Not a day goes by where I don’t make things difficult for myself. So, K-Holes.
K-Holes are explosive and so insane. You listen to them and you think you have gone mad, or are about to go mad. That’s the best kind of music. Music that shows you a glimpse of insanity because if you dragged yourself to it, you’d never taste freedom again. But when music does it, it feels a little bit sinister. It feels right too. There’s something about K-Holes that lures you in with everything they have, but they make it seem so effortless. I guess what I’m trying to say is, you just want in. You want to be part of this eerie environment that the pleasantly smack you with. I’ve spent the past hour and a half listening to their music (and also looking at photos of cute dogs telling my girlfriend we need to get them all.) And I’m not sure if I’ve ever enjoyed being freaked out by a band so much in my life. I’m listening to them, and I can’t help but think how fucking incredible their live show must be. Intimate venues, whisky being thrown around, bodies crashing into each other. You’d leave with some form of injury and the best stories to share in years to come. Oh come to England K-Holes. PLEASE?
Their music echoes like empty cries in a menacing chamber. Their music contains bloody screams, shattering drums and raging, thrashing guitars. Everything I want in a band, and more. This is purely selfish reasons. I’m not fussed if you dig them or not; I just love them and I have to unleash my praises for them. Well done New York, you’ve gone and done it again.
K-Holes are like that build up in a horror film (I mean a decent horror film) where you know something truly bad is going to happen, and as you try to avert your eyes; you still remain fixated on it all. Their music may terrify you, but no part of you wants to turn it off and listen to something more tranquil. As wonderful as it is to listen to ethereal gems, sometimes you just need something so brutal and dangerous. Just to coexist with the other part of you. The part of you that you don’t mind sharing, but the parts you hide? Well, that’s why bands like K-Holes are there. Just let it out, you don’t have to hide it. This is the kind of music to march around to at 1am when the streets are quite and you paint stories in your head to fit the music. I don’t do this, I usually sleep. But I guess some people do that. Whatever works.
Shaun Hencher. Used to be in a band called Lovvers (they were good, go listen) now he’s on his own as VIRALS.
The EP, Strange Fruit will warm your bones and turn your brain to mush because of how gorgeous and how beautifully rambunctious it is. It is the right level of noisy. It is the right setting of rowdy. It’s the kind of EP you play when you feel hopeless and all sense of hopelessness slips from you as you listen to it. If you know nothing about Shaun’s musical background, you’d probably think “Oh he’s from LA.” So wrong you are. So very wrong. He’s from Worcester. You can make your own mind up if anything good has ever come from there. Personally I believe yes something good has come from there; Shaun Hencher of course.
The EP begins with the wonderful Strange Fruit but I think Summer Girls is the one that may take over hearts. And also thoughts. Although it is an EP, and yes you do want more (just hit repeat) you cannot help but be led straight into a warmer climate in dreams as you listen to this blissful piece of art. At times VIRALS remind you of a tame version of Wavves, but it’s just one person doing all this. One person is making this beautiful sound. I know my heart seems to reside with duos but I could easily reel off a list of solo artists that are just as powerful; VIRALS is one of them for sure.
A constant summer mood drifts throughout the EP, making you feel at ease with how the outdoors is quite dull and dark. VIRALS is another reason as to why I wish I had the money to go to SXSW this year, there will never come a time where I don’t hate myself for having no money and not being able to go. One day, one day. I don’t care if I’m 80 years old and I have to crawl to the plane; I will go.
You don’t really need me to tell you how brilliant this EP is, anyone who was a fan of Lovvers knows just how much of a genius Shaun is so of course VIRALS is going to be so close to perfection.
I’m going into this knowing nothing about Colleen Green. All I know is that I love her music. That is more than enough isn’t it. Don’t expect too much, or anything from anyone because you’ll fall face first into disappointment.
Today I cleared out my bedroom. Gave away a guitar to someone as I never got round to learning. Threw out my decks because although I can DJ, it was something I never wanted to take further than my bedroom. I’ve placed a handful of filled notebooks on my desk; that’s my passion. Writing. I don’t do it well, but I do it anyway. I’ve written a song/poem a day since I was 13. I’m 26 now. I have boxes and suitcases and drawers full of notebooks and scrappy bits of paper with words on. You don’t need a lot to get by. This is where Colleen Green comes in.
It’s just her and her guitar. Her words. Her voice. And a drum machine.
All the greats started on their own. By greats I mean Bob Dylan, Patti Smith, Townes Van Zandt. The ones that tell the stories of your life. Sometimes in a way that goes above your head; but in a way that no other has done either way. I am not comparing Colleen to any of those mentioned. Comparing someone to someone else is never fair, even if you are being kind. She’s just got a brilliant way of telling stories, that make you think that she’s somehow got into your head. Maybe she has.
Her new song, Time In The World is a delicate ode to love. It isn’t overbearing with rhyming couplets and pretentious imagery. It’s the opposite of that, it’s simple. Simple in the best way possible and immediately makes you think of the one you love. It’s up to you if you want to play it to them, but if you want to here’s the link to it: http://soundcloud.com/adhocfm/colleen-green-time-in-the
She makes the kind of music that just makes you want to be entirely lazy and just shrugging everything/everyone off. One of her early releases, Milo Goes To Compton has the insane I Wanna Be Degraded and the Ramones fanatic in me instantly took a shine to this song. I just love her voice, that’s all there is to it really.
You’ve got solo artists like Dirty Beaches who just blow your mind with the way he uses samples and makes you think you are in a time no one really was aware of. Then you have ones like Colleen Green who bring you back to reality (possibly reluctantly) and her easy to relate to lyrics make you feel alright with how difficult/awkward you are at times.
If like me you are sick of everyone going on about the weather (there’s other things to talk about you know) and you want something that takes you away from what you see outside, then listen to Colleen Green. She’ll take you back to that part of your life that many try to distract you from. They try to distract you because they cannot get there themselves. Fools.
I don’t know much about French music, but I did go through a stage of listening to nothing but French Hip Hop. I was 15 years old, and I’m not sorry. Even if you can’t understand French, their Hip Hop scene is pretty good. But if you want something else then maybe try Beat Mark.
Soft Power Records do not put out shit music. They’re like Art Fag Records, Sacred Bones Records and Zoo Music. They just put out music that MUST be heard. Music that is of worth, and by that I mean music that I love so this is obviously going to be biased. Thing is, I don’t write about what I don’t like because although I can be shit at times; I have my limits. Don’t slag someone off who is doing their job. Are you the one selling records and on stage singing your heart out? No. Then shush. I will sit down with you and tell you why certain “folk” singers/bands are toss though. I don’t have an issue with that. Anyway, Beat Mark.
Beat Mark are from Paris. They have captured the true feel of Shoegaze and have made something entirely dreamy. I don’t mean in a swoony kind of way. I mean that, Beat Mark make you feel like you are dreaming and judging by all the hate in the world, this is something that we all need. I can imagine living in a city to be quite exhausting at times (try living on the Isle Of Man, that’s a billion times worse) and possibly frustrating. Like a wild animal trapped; so you search for an outlet. Never judge a person’s way of unleashing how they feel, unless they punch you. Then maybe they need a cuddle. I’m convinced the world would be more gentle if we all hugged more. Anyway, tangent. Sorry. Beat Mark have a brilliant suave vibe to their music, and the female vocals that appear add a gorgeous delicate tone to their songs.
I think it is obvious that Beat Mark are my kind of band, and that’s why I’ve written about them. Purely selfish reasons, but it’s the only time I am so it’s okay. Beat Mark are the first new release of 2013 on Soft Power Records on the 15th February. Don’t buy into the Hallmark Holiday the day before, invest in Beat Mark’s EP, Move On instead. The release is limited to 100 copies on cassette, so be wise and purchase it ASAP.
I think those who are not familiar with Trevor Powers/Youth Lagoon are missing out. I remember the day I accidentally heard his music, it was like nothing even mattered in that moment. Of course things do not matter, but I’d rather shrug them off and listen to something like Youth Lagoon.
Quick to be lumped in the “Chillwave” category (has that died now or….?) Trevor Powers pretty much went against all of that. He didn’t (and doesn’t) sound like those he was compared to. His debut record was made in his bedroom, and when you listen to it you do get such a personal feel coming through. Hopefully this will happen again in his new record, Wondrous Bughouse which is set to be released on 5th March.
Last year some amazing EPs came out. My favourite was of course End Of Daze by Dum Dum Girls. It’s hazy sound eased everything, and made everything pure again. Everything felt right.
A few weeks before the end of the year, one of the best new bands in the UK put out their debut EP. LOOM will blow your mind. They will unleash fury in your head. They will takeover your mind. They’ll become your everything, if you let them. They are not for people who enjoy the quiet and cannot appreciate anything but. I love silence, but I do like the be surrounded by pleasant noises at times. By this, I mean music. I enjoy music that is dark and brutal. This will be why I adore LOOM.
I’ve already written about them and why you need them in your life. So now, a month late (sorry) I’ll tell you about their three track EP, Bleed On Me.
Do you remember the first time you heard something quite strange, and unlike anything else? I’m trying my best to not compare this to Psychocandy, but I feel I must do so. Look, you know I compare a lot of records to this I simply cannot help it. Bleed On Me gives you that dangerous feeling that Psychocandy did. Bleed On Me is dangerous, and should be played so loud; your neighbours are concerned about your wellbeing. But you’ll be just be thrashing about in your room immersed in this incredible band.
She is my favourite track from the EP, but after playing it religiously I am finding different things to love about this EP. Tarik’s voice is aggressive and passionately possessive. Say hell to your new favourite frontman. Say hell to your new favourite band.
“No one can do everything, but everyone can do something.”
If I had anything about me, I’d have written this before Gil died. But I am useless. I know this, you should too. I assume you now do. However, maybe what I may have written about them would have been totally different. There’s a reason for writing this.
For Christmas my auntie and uncle gave me a copy of Gil’s memoir, The Last Holiday. It took me 4 days to read it. I wasn’t reading much a day, but today I just sat on my bed and read 200 pages. I refused to put the book down because with every page, every word; I was learning something. Not just about Gil and his world; but the way the world is now.
For my 15th birthday, my auntie and uncle (they are the ones responsible for certain bands I love) gave me a CD of Gil and a copy of The Last Poets debut spoken word album. I was at an age where most of my hate was aimed at myself and unsure of how I could leave a place I hated so so much. Through listening to their words, I fast realised that the way out was education. It was the only way. Alright so I’m back here, but I know I need to leave here. I don’t think anyone truly will ever understand how this fuck of a place destroys me. Some days its little parts of me that are tossed aside and destroyed. Other days it is more than that. But I keep it hidden, because I have to. I know when I leave here, it will be for good and I will not come back. If I can leave Stoke, another place that held my spirits prisoner; I can do the same here. If you’re free in the mind, you are free. It’s hard to keep hold of that when you feel trapped. And your best efforts are continuously rejected. I’ll get there, more than likely with no help because there is nothing anyone can do is there.
Gil Scott-Heron was the creator of a movement that was vital. Thing is, we need someone like him now. But is there any hope for it? Maybe there is, there just has to be. We cannot stay hopeless forever.
As much as I’d love to touch on the importance of Gil. I think most of this is going to come from what The Last Holiday has done, for me.
I write. I write badly, I know I do. This isn’t for attention. It’s just the truth. I know I can do better, but I never seem to get there. So I carry on. Much against the wishes of some, I know. But they’re highly irrelevant aren’t they. I do think one day I will write something I am proud of. But self-doubt is a thing that keeps me going. When I apply for jobs I think, “I’m going to get ignored or rejected but fuck it…one day I’ll get a yes.” I cling onto “one day” because when that goes, I am more fucked than I already am. I try to channel every ugly thing I am into something worthwhile; writing. I know I write far too personally, but after reading The Last Holiday, I realised it isn’t a bad thing. If you cannot ope up about certain things in life, then you’re going to be alone. If you think the world owes you, you’re going to be alone. If you’re going to always expect bad things, then maybe you deserve it. I read The Last Holiday with no expectations. As I reached the final page I felt every question I had ever wanted to be answered, were answered. Maybe you could say I am now enlightened. I’m not sure.
There is one part of the book that stands out for me in ways I cannot begin to describe, but I’ll mention it anyway.
Gil mentions a young boy reading his essay as to why Martin Luther Jr deserved to have a day in his honour, and as a remembrance of his death. The young boy struggled to read his essay as some of the words were faded and hard to read. Diana Ross was stood next to the young boy, and she had her arm around him. When the young boy couldn’t read certain words, she helped him. For some reason this brought tears to my eyes. One- because the boy needed help but didn’t ask, but was given it. Two-because we no longer have compassion like this anymore. We don’t bat an eyelid to violence anymore, and it is wrong. Not to mention heartbreaking.
With everything he ever wrote and spoke, Gil had the power to make you feel as if you were there with him. Right next to him seeing it all happen the way he did. Every trauma and every piece of success, you felt it. I’ve said many times there are only a few that instilled a love of words in me. Gil is evidently one of the very few. I cannot understand how anyone couldn’t be moved by his words and just the way he was. A man who loved learning and loved words. He was so rare. So very rare.
Some have called him the “Black Bob Dylan.” It pisses me off because colour should never be an issue. It should never be about the colour of your skin; but people put that first because they lack the imagination to say something of worth. Gil Scott-Heron was is own, much like Bob Dylan is his own. There’s no one else like them, regardless of colour.
As I was reading The Last Holiday, I went back 11 years in my mind to when I was 15 years old hearing Gil’s words for the very first time. Then it dawned on me, we’ll never hear or read something new from him again. But what he gave us was more than words. He gave us comfort, strength and belief. I think The Last Holiday is going to mean to me what Just Kids by Patti Smith does. It’ll go beyond being a book, it’ll turn into a guide for life. A piece of literature offering everything I cannot find anywhere else.
You know, I could rant about my love for Scott Walker until I ran out of words and time escaped me; and I wanted to go to sleep. I’ll keep it short, and try to explain my love for Scott in a non-ranting kind of way. I do feel I will mess it up. It’s alright. I must remind myself that no one will see this.
Of course The Walker Brothers were one of the best bands ever. Timeless and divine. Scott Walker’s voice is out of this world. Has anyone else managed to do what he does? No. Has anyone else possessed a voice like that? No. Could anyone else make a record like Bish Bosch and still be taken seriously? No. Bish Bosch is fucking insane. It is mental, completely mental. And I loved it so. The lyrics are genius and mad. That’s just Scott though.
I have a story to tell about Scott.
I was raised on The Walker Brothers, and I dabbled in Scott’s solo work. Scott and Scott 4 are my favourites. I think I’d put Bish Bosch there just because of how mental it is. Anyway, a few years ago I was miserable and living in a shit place. That shit place was sadly, Stoke On Trent. The only good thing about it was that it was easy to escape to Manchester or London. I thought I could hack it, I thought I could get a job and get out. I ended up being a boomerang between there and where I am now. I have never felt at home anywhere. I have never felt like I belonged anywhere. Maybe I never will; and it partly why I don’t get attached to objects and why I am so far from being materialistic, because one day I hope to leave it all behind and start my life. For real. But I am 26 and I fear it will never happen for me. I am made up of mistakes, false starts and a want to just make something of myself. I fail even when I think I’ve done alright.
So I was struggling. Nothing was working. I wasn’t working. I was stuck. I feared I was going to be thrown out of where I was living at any point, so I never said a word about the broken washing machine or the leaking bath. I had nothing, but I carried one.
One day I got a package from my mum. A care-package I guess. I opened it, and in the parcel was a photo of Morrissey and Scott Walker’s debut record. All I did that day was listen to Scott Walker. I wandered around and just listened to Scott Walker. That debut record means more to me than anyone will ever know.
So a very Happy Birthday to Scott Walker. You gave this hopeless case some kind of lifeline.
