Sunday, January 28, 2007

song of the week: the prayer


I’ve never rated Bloc Party, and to be honest I’m still not sure I do. I saw them supporting The Zutons a few years ago and thought the second support act, Eastern Lane of all people, were better (don’t laugh, in my defence I was at the front, on the bassist’s side, and I’d had a few beers, ok?) But I sincerely hope that Bloc Party’s debut single The Prayer, is a sign of things to come – if only because it sounds like they’ve been listening to TV on the Radio.

Strange then, that it begins like an Oompa Loompa track in Tim Burton’s Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, all stomping hand-claps and battle-cry humming. Fortunately, we are rescued from Deep Roy-style boogie as soon as Kele Okereke’s earnest indie half-speaking, half-whining vocals begin – that’s not meant to sound quite as disparaging as it might. In fact, my only real complaint about his performance is that he sounds rather like a Star-in-their-Eyes Tunde Adebimpe (TV on the Radio front man, and producer and animator of the YYYs fatabulouso Pin videoipso facto the closest thing to the Second Coming since Christopher Guest performing his final scene in This Is Spinal Tap).

Bloc Party have provided the definitive example of the whirring, clattering, slightly tinny sounds we’ve had from British guitar bands lately – but that stuff does little for me. Although (admittedly) it isn’t technically as good, I prefer the public-school jeering and bouncing of The Kaiser Chiefs to another chin-stroking set of scrawny boys in Converse high-tops. But my personal preferences surely pale in comparison since it was revealed that despite being ‘post-punk’ Bloc Party had never heard of Gang of Four until the NME sycophants started citing them as obvious references on debut alarm Silent Alarm. Scoff scoff.

Grrr –I realy must stop mocking the band currently occupying Song of the Week, because, honestly, The Prayer is excellent. After the determined opening hand-claps, tautness overtakes the menacing Oompa Loompa chanting, punctuated very nicely with tiny stabbing faux nu-rave keyboards and zombified drumming. A shattering, neurotic cymbal is then battered mercilessly through the lead into the chorus, as Bloc Party’s trademark collection of shivery guitars and percussion drunkenly stumble in, sounding like an indie 4x4 speeding through a joyride in Grand Theft Auto.

The post-Killers escalating keyboard in the chorus succeeds in pushing the semi-rave drum ‘n’ bass edge to the song into a slightly deranged kind of chamber music – casually spitting on Muse as it hurtles like a possessed evangelical into a series of muted choral chants and beeping, pipping guitar reverbs - the kind of accompanying sounds my Dad generally classifies as 'noise'. With its pushy, booming beat, and hysterically soaring chorus, this song is, indeed, A Prayer – an overreaching, egotistical, ambitious prayer from a trendy little indie band now seeking world domination. Fortunately, this desperate, sweaty foot-stomping prayer is so catchy, so brave, so memorable, and perhaps (unintentionally) the best example of how last year's nu-rave trend could actually spawn something interesting, that I hope Bloc Party’s prayers are indeed answered.

There’s also an altogether more personal reason for choosing this as song of the week.

Since the year flipped over to 2007, for the first time I’ve been chasing the whole new year/new you dream, and out of this usually mild and demure girl has emerged a clawing, spitting vixen with bloody ambition in her eyes. I don’t really like doing things I wholeheartedly disapprove of to get what I want, but even my parents have spent the weekend kicking me up the arse to ensure I do them - guilt-free. And as Bloc Party say; ‘Is it so wrong to want rewarding? To want more than is given to you?’

Sunday, January 21, 2007

song of the week: jackie jackson


Franz Ferdinand - Alex appears to have aged somewhat

apologies - I'm cheating a bit as it's been a busy week and I haven't had time to put together my argument for Cansei de Ser Sexy's 'Music is my Hot Hot Sex' - count youself lucky - so here's an old discarded, re-worked song of the week from December 06 when I was on my blog-holiday

One of last year’s most underrated little albums is Colours are Brighter a Save The Children charity album of unarguable quality, and a boon to parents of tiny people who wish they didn't have to listen to ruddy Bob the Builder all the time (see my brother and sister-in-law).

A selection of original and re-worked children’s songs from some of the finest names in indie-pop and dance, Colours are Brighter was bought firstly for me, and secondly for my insane three-year old nieces (I think they preferred the squishy dinosaurs I also bought them). The track list includes the fabulous Divine Comedy’s Pooh Trilogy (Three Cheers for Pooh! sung by Neil Hannon - that man has a voice for bedtime stories) and the surprisingly heart-snuggling offering from Snow Patrol ,‘I am an Astronaut’. Beware the brilliantly alarming Tidy Up! from The Barcelona Pavilion, guaranteed to bully wayward tots into clearing up their toys on pain of techno-death, and Half Man Half Biscuit’s David Wainwright’s Feet, teaching kids never to wear ill-fitting shoes. Special mention should also go to album-curator’s Belle and Sebastian’s ‘The Monkey’s Are Breaking Out the Zoo’, an unashamedly pre-school nursery tale, and beautiful for it. My uterus gurgles just thinking about it. However, it is Franz Ferdinand’s skiffley country-bumpkin morality fable of greedy boy Jackie Jackson that takes the song of the week accolade – mainly because I looked in the mirror this morning and, following a weekend with my cake-happy aunt, saw a whale.

Light-hearted strumming, subtle rinky-tink piano and cheeky girl-group backing vocals make this a class act all in its own right, but it is Alex Kapranos’s flawless narrative performance that ices this big yummy cake of a song. Spot-on comic timing, delivered with a deftness of touch and a subtle, yet decidedly, grown-up sense of humour make for arguably the greatest song ever released by those trendy Scots. The entire song is peppered with incredulous gasps and comments from Alex’s little backing group (rapidly counting and repeating 'one cake, two cake, I like the taste of tasty cakes'), and as Jackie Jackson eats more and more cakes (over 200 cakes!!) the track speeds into a delirious counting-game matched with all the fun of the assonance of ‘tasty cakes’ and ‘my belly’s overloaded!” There’s even a childish parp sound when Jackie Jackson explodes from bakery butchery. It’s deliriously, deliciously good - so good in fact that I demand you head out and get yourself a copy and have a good-old knees-up sing-along. I, meanwhile, shall cultivate my large expanding gut.

Sunday, January 14, 2007

NO BOYS ALLOWED

Does anybody else find it amusing that QOTSA Josh Homme's new outift Eagles of Death Metal is holding a *STRICTLY WOMEN ONLY* night at London's Soho Revue Bar on 22nd Jan?

Something tells me that their reasons for doing this aren't exactly pure....

A Message from Stop The War: 24th February

NATIONAL DEMONSTRATION: 24 FEBRUARY

Hot on the heels of parliament's debate and vote on Iraq on 24 January will be
the House of Commons debate and vote on another strand of Tony Blair's war
policies -- his intention to spend a projected 75 billion pounds on a new
generation of weapons of mass destruction (see http://tinyurl.com/y6y8os). The
Trident debate will take place in early March. CND and Stop the War Coalition
have called a national demonstration on 24 February which will have a twin
purpose: Stop Trident / Troops Out of Iraq.

Coaches are now being organised around the country to bring protestors to London
for this crucial demonstration. We will be publicising details on the Stop the
War website as we get them (see http://tinyurl.com/y9c7z5). If there are no
coach details yet for where you live, contact the Stop the War office and we
will put you in touch with the local group organising transport.

Local groups, often in conjunction with CND, are organising Stop Trident /
Troops Out of Iraq public meetings and rallies, details for which can be found
on our website here: http://tinyurl.com/q3y4k

If you are not involved in a local group and would like to help build support
for the demonstration on 24 February, contact the Stop the War office and we
will give you contact details for anti-war activists in your area.

NATIONAL DEMONSTRATION
STOP TRIDENT / TROOPS OUT OF IRAQ
SATURDAY 24 FEBRUARY
ASSEMBLE HYDE PARK 12 NOON
MARCH TO TRAFALGAR SQUARE

A Message from Stop The War - 24th January

A message from Darling Vicarage's Inbox

Stop the War is organising a concerted campaign over the next two weeks to put
pressure on MPs – particularly Labour MPs -- to stop collaborating with Blair's
war policies. Round the country, all local Stop the War Groups are being asked
to organise protests and lobbies at MPs' surgeries, where the local MP can be
urged face-to-face to say yes Troops Out of Iraq. We have launched a postcard
write-in campaign (see below), for MPs' constituents to write to their local MP
and ask how he or she will be voting on Iraq and on Trident missiles (see
below).

This will culminate in the two events at parliament on 24 January. Please join
us if you can and encourage as many of their friends, work colleagues, fellow
students, etc, to be there too. See the Stop the War website for further
details: www.stopwar.org.uk

*JOIN THE LUNCHTIME LOBBY AT PARLIAMENT
WEDNESDAY 24 JANUARY AT 1.00PM
STOP TRIDENT / TROOPS OUT OF IRAQ
HOUSE OF COMMONS, PARLIAMENT SQUARE

*JOIN THE EVENING DEMONSTRATION
WEDNESDAY 24 JANUARY AT 5.00-7.00PM
STOP TRIDENT / TROOPS OUT OF IRAQ
HOUSE OF COMMONS, PARLIAMENT SQUARE
(MPs vote on the Iraq motion at 7.00pm)

Saturday, January 06, 2007

Happy Birthday Guantanamo!

Well, would you believe it? Guantanamo Bay is five years old this week - doesn't seem possible does it? Awww.

To celebrate, Amnesty International will be having a party on Thursday. To RSVP go here and here.

Friday, January 05, 2007

song of the week: biology


Sarah's my favourite (far left): who's yours?

If pop music is about fantasy, then Girls Aloud have refined their trade into an art form.

I really tried not to like Girls Aloud when they were publicly thrown together in 2002. I was rather more po-faced about my music then, preferring to linger in dingy bars philosophising on Lou Reed’s solo output with equally dingy students. I hated myself for loving the drum and bass-lite Sound of the Underground and all its shamelessly cynical too-cool-for-Louis sassiness. And then one night in said dingy bar, I found myself drunk and arguing for the brilliance of Christina Aguilera’s Dirrty and my cover was blown. And thank goodness.

A drum-thumping, guitar-twanging intro pumps itself into a full-blown hip-shakin’, glove rippin’, stocking-tearin’ striptease as Nadine swoons and gasps her way through a series of pleas and commands:

Why don't you fool me, feed me, say you need me/Without wicked games
C'mon and hold me, hug me, say you love me / And not my dirty brain

The intro shimmers into a glittery, glossy, Moog-heavy, early ‘80s dance track with a kiss of radio-friendly MOR – the musical equivalent of Miso Pretty Plum Lipgloss. An uptempo, urgent little pop song, it tells the blissful heartbreak tale of a man so dangerously irresistible that a ‘one way ticket to Alabama’ and a ‘cappuccino to go’ is the only option, else slavery to the ‘fire of pure desire’ awaits. Lyrics straight out of an episode of Sunset Beach - brilliant.

As Cheryl and Sarah take the mic, the number of syllables per line increases until the verses are delivered with a breathless urgency. Cheryl sounds like she’s having an asthma attack, albeit with a very cute Geordie twang. And then before you’ve even had an opportunity to reapply your mascara, in leaps Kimberley, and eventually, the entire GA, with a hushed, sexy chorus of ‘closer, closer, closer’, shimmying relentlessly to the chorus.

Like many GA songs Biology has not one, but two choruses – the thrusting intro and the cheeky sing-along. (That’s slim pickings for these girls – The Show is pretty much all chorus). Biology has some delightfully dubious lyrics: the whole song treats sexuality as vaguely threatening – but all the better for it, especially when delivered with synchronised dance routines and knowing winks. All that little-girl-lost Britney crap is dispensed with immediately – whatever you might wonder about Girls Aloud, the 1998 Britney question is not one of them – and thank god – it was very creepy, especially if you actually were a schoolgirl virgin in 1998.

The centrepiece of the chorus with its instantly memorable choreography is a tongue-in-cheek stilted Barbie-doll mantra; ‘The way that we talk / The way that we walk’. A backing track of ‘wooh!’s that sounds like a deranged disco locomotive steams through the song, travelling through the chorus and out again, back to the grinding stripper’s ending. If you have any sense at all, you’re left with bruised feet in cheap heels, happily exhausted. Before your St Tropez has a chance to fade, a shiny chorus-line of five fantasy female automatons has danced the money out of your pockets and replaced it with an overwhelming sense of wellbeing.

It didn’t really matter which Girls Aloud song I chose. I could have written about the sprightly Love Machine, the bossy, berating ‘should have’ bit in The Show, the drum ‘n’ bass intro to Sound of the Underground, the My Sharona homage No Good Advice, Jump, so much better when sung by girls, or Something Kinda Oooh, purely because it has a lyric built into it which means you have no choice but to flick your butt Beyonce-style.

Either way, Girls Aloud are the best pop group in the world at the moment: the end.