If you think that hip-hop missed its chance to go wholly over ground as a musical style and that rap music seemed to jump the queue and became the radio friendly, unit shifting, happy to compromise, edgy dance music of choice, then JV and Teej are probably just what you need in your life. These two long-term friends blend elements of old-school hip-hop with a slick later R&B and a chilled funk vibe to create a sound which is both aware of its place in musical history, yet manages to keep things fresh and exciting as it strides off towards new musical horizons.
Casual choruses share space with more direct rap deliveries, the beats are solid, the flow of the song wanders through interesting dynamic shifts and underneath is a fluid musical wash which emanates both warmth and cool at the same time, if you know what I mean.
But if these guys are on a mission to remind us of the sounds of the old days, give us a glimpse of an alternative version of musical history, one where songs like this form a large section of commercial radio play, and give us a chance to reset things and aim for a more interesting musical future, it isn’t their only mission. Part of the proceeds from their new album will be going to ensure school kids in their local community remain properly feed and looked after.
The world needs all the help it can get at the moment, it is a time to bring people together and lean on each other. If you can further that ideal by releasing a song that may turn out to be the chilled party track of the summer, all the better.
Sometimes songs can be a peek into a bands record collection, which for a music snob and general nosey parker such as myself is never a bad thing. Whilst Divisionists are a current London outfit, their music skims sonic stones across a whole lake of earlier times and other places. Early 80’s California and the rise of the 60’s gazing Paisley Underground, the more muscular rock sound of Minneapolis, a Boston indie vibe, the alternative take of US college rock radio and hints of the more melodic end of Portland’s mercurial sound. You just know that after a hard day they relax with a bit of The Replacements, The Gin Blossoms or Green On Red…on vinyl of course!
Some time ago, out on a dark, lonely highway, an illicit meeting between the then members of My Bloody Valentine and Eighties Matchbox B-Line Disaster met to discuss the matter of who would inherit the throne. They came up with the idea of uniting their two houses, Shoegaze and Neo-psychedelia and the chosen heir was the, now of age, Dead Vibrations. Okay, that’s almost certainly not true, maybe I have been watching too much Game of Thrones but it does tell you a lot about the musical balance of the band.
For a man who came up through the frenetic punk years and then went on to play guitar for the hedonistic and provocative Frankie Goes To Hollywood, the Brian Nash of today seems somewhat more chilled, reflective, wistful even. But then we are all older, hopefully wiser, and have time to stand back and think about the world in a more considered fashion.
It isn’t just the various sounds that make up the songs; hints of country, heartland rock, southern gothic and more that create a geographical fix for Hannah Aldridge’s sophomore album. There is something else that inhabits the spaces between the notes, hangs in the pauses for breathes and lingers long in the fade out of tracks. Gold Rush may be autobiographical in looking at the things that have happened in the artist’s life but it is also a very specific biography of Southern culture. Not the clichéd or the obvious, but the deeper threads in the weave, the unseen wefts that the patterns are threaded on to, the darker structures. This is the world found in the backdrops of the writings of Lee, Faulkner and McCarty.
None other than Louis Armstrong keenly observed that “All music is folk music, I ain’t never heard no horse sing a song,” and in his colloquially rich and triple negative way, he was right. If folk music is music by the people, of the people, for the people, then it doesn’t take much of a leap to see that old Satchmo was correct. Sharon Shannon’s latest album is the red biro underlining that idea
Some music is made to be experienced on mass, a joint and joyous celebration to be shared with those around you. Other music is more of a one-on-one experience and Daudi Matsiko definitely falls into the latter bracket. More than just a singular experience it is also one that is personal, confessional and strikingly intimate as if the artist were on the listeners own therapist couch unburdening thoughts and feelings for your ears only.
Duncan Lloyd is nothing if not productive. As well as being the driving force behind Maximo Park and busy with peripheral projects such as Decade in Exile and Nano Kino, he has still found time to release his second solo album. And if Seeing Double picked up mixed reviews and was criticised in some quarters for lack of polish and variety, IOUOME will hush any dissenting voices this time around.
Right from the opening sound of the sonorous cello and the Nora Jones vibe, I knew that I was going to love this record. Pop with a lot of heart and an endless amount of soul, wonderfully unhurried and wrapped in classical guitars and sensual string arrangements and a vocal that is simultaneously timeless jazz diva and latest chart sensation. That’s a lot to fit in to one song yet it does so elegantly and sparingly, one element leaving enough room that the other can work its magic.
There was a time, not to long ago that you had to make a choice between being a pop artist or a serious musician. One was the stuff of slick commerciality, high production values and easy accessibility, the other depth, integrity and longevity. Thankfully the world has moved on and now the lines between the two camps have become entwined in a wonderful middle ground that delivers the best of both worlds.
Most people build songs based on solidity – riffs, defined chord progressions, choruses, verses – you know all the stuff that has been tried and tested over many years by thousands of artists through millions of songs. But doesn’t that just mean that it’s time for a change? I’m not saying that Nick is the first person to visit these musical peripheries but he is certainly one of a very select gang of sonic explorers who from the 80’s onwards grabbed the emerging and increasingly affordable technology and used it to unlock and create whole new worlds.
Before we get down to the nitty-gritty of exploring the music too closely, right from the off the two things that scream out at me as I dip my toe in its sonic waters are the sheer eclecticism and the texturing of sounds. It’s the same feeling I get when I listen to Steely Dan’s Aja and there are more than a few similarities – the innate soulfulness, the progressive landscapes containing wonderfully accessible ideas, the execution of the musicians that somehow combines precision with a loose and often louche style. And simply the sheer scope of the territory being explored.
Sometimes you have to just realise that you are beaten, admit defeat and move on to the next job. No, I’m made of more determined stuff than that, so let’s have another go at describing Manu Louis’ strange and mercurial music in a way that at least makes a little sense.
