Category: 2015NE

39: Donnie Trumpet & The Social Experiment: Surf

~ Lex Leeson ~ 2 Comments

Chance the Rapper is a brilliant example of post-capitalism, asking for no money from fans for his musical releases as he makes his living entirely from touring, even acknowledging his existence is an admission to failure in front of the oncoming revolution and next year the only way you’ll be able to get a copy of the next album by even your favourite artist Marti Pellow is if you turn up to the front door of the YMCA he sleeps at in person and trade him a tote bag of heroin for a private performance. The band of collaborators Social Experiment’s debut ‘Surf’ is the first studio album (released for free on iTunes) of any sort chiefly by CTR and despite (or perhaps because of) its extraordinary ambitions it can’t help but sound insignificant and weightless on first listens, bogged down by horrendously MOR production that sands off any rough edges the sound really deserves. The record is designed to convey levity though, so it’s unassuming flippancy is entirely intentional and it rewards repeated listens as it’s more subtle genius shines, it’s a record that deserves whole months to be lost into. In the end though despite its high quality it can’t help but sound a rather throwaway release more designed to show off the talents of CTR’s friends.

‘Fun’ Fact: Chance the Rapper was born almost a week before Macedonia was admitted into the UN, so don’t believe any of the shit he says about how he remembers it

That was another one of those half-arsed reviews where I couldn’t actually tell if you liked it or not: Don’t be so fucking ridiculous, it has its faults but I definitely like it, ‘Slip Slide‘ being one of its many high points

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40: Courtney Barnett: Sometimes I Sit and Think and Sometimes I Just Sit

~ Lex Leeson ~ 1 Comment

How much you like 2015’s least gainly titled album will depend on what amount of importance you put on either music or lyrics, and given how bizarrely celebrated the album generally is it’s clear which side of the fence most rock critics fall upon. Musically this album is… well, I’m far too polite to say ‘dog shite’ but you can put your own synonymous phrase in here- mongrel muck?- as it achieves the artistic level more associated with the worst Britpop b-sides of Northern Uproar, only lacking Stockport’s finest way with a subtle nuance. Barnett more than saves her debut though by being such an engaging presence and a lyricist of the absolute highest order; funny without being silly or obvious, smart without being arch or overtly intellectual. At the moment Barnett gets a tentative recommendation in the belief she could get extremely good indeed if she just finds some musical backing that can live up to her words in any way at all.

‘Fun’ Fact: Barnett hails from Melbourne, which has the largest tram system anywhere in the world outside Europe.

I don’t really listen to lyrics unless they’re the song’s name screamed repeatedly in the chorus: Maybe don’t bother with ‘Dead Fox‘ then

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41: Lana Del Rey: Honeymoon

~ Lex Leeson ~ 1 Comment

…and so LDR merely twists tighter as she delves even deeper into herself, or rather into her own persona. I previously considered 2014’s ‘Ultraviolence’ as the most ‘Lana Del Rey’ Lana Del Rey album possible, but this Lana Del Rey album is so much more ‘Lana Del Rey’ that it makes the previous Lana Del Rey album barely ‘Lana Del Rey’ at all in comparison to how ‘Lana Del Rey’ this Lana Del Rey album is. It’s all here and correct, even if it’s passed of in a markedly darker production package than before, all the high drama and imagery so on the nose that it’s in real danger of inducing severe nasal trauma. Lana is making absolutely no concessions to the haters, so they’re left with nothing but continued attempts to deny she’s a wonderfully commanding presence.

‘Fun’ Fact: Lana Del Rey once described herself as a ‘gangsta Nancy Sinatra’. Ah Jesus, I think I hate her as well now…

Dude, do you know Lana Del Rey isn’t even her real name?? She’s so freaking fake… I’ve got some bad news about Scroobius Pip, listen to ‘Salvatore‘ and try to calm down

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42: Cannibal Ox: Blade of the Ronin

~ Lex Leeson ~ 1 Comment

OK, let’s get the obvious over with first: this is a hip-hop album and so therefore it’s 19 tracks long, and even though 63 minutes doesn’t sound too much to handle I assure you it feels a lot longer. Nevertheless the first album in 14 years by Vast Aire and Vordul Mega (those names are worth a space on this list on their own) is near masterful in places, wonderfully atmospheric and sounding not unlike a Wu Tang Clan record that’s especially shot through with underlying sadness. The lyrics sometimes jar the carefully created sense of drama (‘These girls like Frankenstein/They got fake hair, fake nails, and monster behinds’)- and really guys? A Yoda sample??- but ‘Blade…’ is sporadically fantastic

‘Fun’ Fact: Cannibal Ox’s last album was released the same day as ‘Celebrity’ by *NSYNC

‘Masterful’? ‘Masterful‘?? Come on! You can’t mean masterful! I absolutely can! ‘The Fire Rises‘ is as masterful as they come!

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43: Peaches: Rub

~ Lex Leeson ~ Leave a comment

It certainly doesn’t feel like it’s been 6 years since Peaches’ last studio album, maybe because you’re likely to still hear ‘Fuck the Pain Away‘ roughly once every 20 minutes if you ever deign to leave the house (which obviously doesn’t apply to me), or maybe it’s because her abrasive electronica paired with a celebration of life’s rather less PG obsessions has become bizarrely influential. Peaches’ main themes of gender identity, freaky sex and body dimorphism are if anything more prevalent now in wider culture than they were in 2009, so her songs’ impact has been softened slightly by their familiarity (if I told you the new Miley Cyrus album had a song on it with the chorus ‘Dick in the air, let me see you put your/Dick in the air‘ or ‘Can’t talk right now this chick’s dick is in my mouth’ you wouldn’t be that surprised). What nobody else can match though is Peaches’ talent for singing songs so explicitly about sex that never make concessions to sounding ‘sexy’, at least by heterosexual male standards.

‘Fun’ Fact: Peaches once lived with Justine Frischman and MIA in a flat that must have been so overpoweringly cool that my head would have exploded if I’d walked within three blocks of their front door

Just say, hypothetically of course, that the album started to drag ever so slightly toward its end, would there be any song to give it a much needed kick back to life? Funny you should say that, as that’s precisely what happens, but ‘Dumb Fuck‘ saves the day

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44: FFS: FFS

~ Lex Leeson ~ Leave a comment

A collaboration between Frank Ferdinand and Sparks (do you see what they did there? Do you? Do you see?) with eyebrows archly raised so high that they spike out of your media player and cause great danger to overflying aeroplanes. There’s even a song called ‘Collaborations Don’t Work‘! Do you see? Do you get it? Do you see? Do you see do you see do you see? Do you fucking SEE?! While the obvious response to such a successful product would be to assume that Sparks have acted as some sort of muse for FF to produce their best album for more than a decade, the truth is this is really more a Sparks album with FF being nice enough to provide backing band duties to give the tracks a little extra oomph (umph? Umff?). But so what? More bands should be willing to throw their weight behind some of their biggest influences to allow the cult concerns one last pay day, especially if the results are as enjoyable as this.

‘Fun’ Fact: When Franz first floated the idea of a joint album via email, the Mael brothers responded by sending back the song ‘Piss Off‘

I’m in the mood to twiddle my moustache while cackling to a song’s devilishly smart double meaning, what do you recommend? Well, the whole album really, but why not start with ‘Call Girl‘?

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45: SOAK: Before We Forget How to Dream

~ Lex Leeson ~ Leave a comment

The debut album by SOAK (standing for ‘Such Onanism Angers Klaatu’) is a quintessential teenage album in many ways: it’s frequently dramatic; massively self-absorbed; can be either be undeniably lovely or infuriatingly meandering if it wants; gets its heart broken every five minutes yet goes back again yearning for the same feeling of hurt again; and is on the whole rather a confused affair. If anything you wish it would exhibit a little more teenage stereotypes such as recklessness and stupidity: this is a far too mature and safe sounding record for a 19 year old. It is however fantastically listenable and Bridie Monds-Watson’s (ha!) unique voice promises further amazement in the future

‘Fun’ Fact: Bridie was born nearly two weeks after Germany beat England in the semi-finals of Euro 96, which just isn’t possible

What?? You say her voice is ‘unique’ when it is CLEARLY a take on Charisma Coolay, who fronted Hungary’s biggest band Glacier Mince way back in 1985, did you somehow just forget them?? Sigh, just shut up and listen to ‘Be a noBody‘

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46: Drake: If You’re Reading This It’s Too Late

~ Lex Leeson ~ Leave a comment

It’s always delightful when a rapper decides that his main albums are a little too short, exhibit far too much direction and don’t contain nearly enough songs, so releases a mix album that satisfies all the fans who wished his major releases were a little more rambling and less focused. But seriously though folks ‘If You’re…’ is actually rather marvellous in places, and it’s never less than fascinating to hear Drake without the commercial constraints of his major label works. There’s no hit single or club banger here, the tone is very much one of a guy crawling back from the pub and deciding that he really can’t be arsed with it all. Drake also did another album this year, but… y’know…

‘Fun’ Fact: Like all the best Americans, Drake is Canadian

OK, picture this: you’re a record company executive with a gun to his head and you have to pick ONE song to be the lead single, which one is it? This is a scenario I can only imagine playing out every day in music company boardrooms across the world. ‘Preach‘ just might fit the bill.

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47: Gaz Coombes: Matador

~ Lex Leeson ~ Leave a comment

No band were more fun in the 90s than Supergrass, not only did the band capture perfectly the exuberance and sheer insanity of loving life they were also maybe the greatest singles band of the era, like if all the members of ABBA had mutton chops (i.e.: perfection). In fact, stop reading this now, go and listen to the ‘Supergrass Is 10‘ best-of, I’ll be here when you come back, don’t worry…

…

Back?

OK:

The problem is that now lead singer Coombes feels he has to stress just how mature he is now, his second solo album couldn’t be more mature if it were a vintage cheddar left to age for 18 months, and of course fun just isn’t what mature people do, is it? There isn’t a bad song on ‘Matador’, but nor is there a song that burrows itself in the brain like his former band’s best did: I’ve been listening to this fucker since January and couldn’t tell you the name of any of the songs without checking the track listing. In my dreams Coombes solo music would unfettered insanity, he’d exhibit kaleidoscopic musical ingenuity after being let lose from the strains Supergrass imposed upon him, instead we get rather pallid music that- brilliant as it occasionally is- can’t help but ever so slightly underwhelm.

‘Fun’ Fact: At the height of their success, Steven Spielberg approached Supergrass with the idea of creating a Monkees style TV show starring the band. Yes, I know this is one of those facts that everybody knows, comparably shocking to revealing how Big Mo off EastEnders is Gary Oldman’s sister, but it bears repeating just so we can all consider how awesome that would have been.

So wait, do you actually like that album?? Absolutely! It’s not perfect but ‘The English Ruse‘ is just one example of the heights it scales

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48: Keith Richards: Crosseyed Heart

~ Lex Leeson ~ 1 Comment

Keith Richards is a grand old fool. He’s a stupid, egotistical, blustering crap bucket of self-importance who keeps being convinced of his own importance by fawning fans and embarrassing rock critics queuing up to perform endless acts of fellatio upon him.

‘Oh, but he’s so cool! He took so many drugs and is still alive!’

Do you know why? He’s not this magical shaman of true rock & roll spirit, he’s just very rich and so can afford to be alive. He once made made quite good records decades ago that your parents had sex to and now is smugly living off the tax-evading proceeds, any respect for Keith Richards is no better than George Osborne levels of wealth deference. He has as much relevance in 2015 as that debate over who is the sexiest member of the Romanov royal family and we should treat his nonsense like ‘rap is for tone-deaf people‘ with the same importance we reserve for that drunk old guy at the bus shelter who pisses on your shoe. However: parts of this album are rather magnificent, while it’s hardly anything new and could have been released in 1964 there’s still some radio rock pop of the absolute highest standard, just make sure you skip the track whenever Keith tries his hand at some other genre like blues or (my God!) cod-reggae.

‘Fun’ Fact: Mr Richards once sent Tony Blair a letter in support of the Iraq War, instructing the then Prime Minister to ‘keep on rocking’. Seriously, the man’s a massive fucking tool

I’ve not got a lot of time buddy, just give me a quick blast of Keef If you ever spell Keith with an ‘F’ again we are no longer talking. ‘Illusion‘ is rather lovely

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