2013 : An Introspective Discursive of Symphonoius Oeuvres by @Another__Name

Hello all, hope you're well.

Today we're pleased to introduce a new Session Blogger to the family.  I've been following @Another__Name on twitter for a while now and, given his excellent music taste, I've been hounding and hounding him for a blog post for ages.  Finally, here it is, and it was definitely worth the wait.

I'm going to pass you over now for a brief review of his favourite, and not so favourite, music from this year. Anyone who loves songs containing Autotune should look away now :

"New band! They’re based in New York! They’ve got attitude! They’re not the Strokes! Punky! I think if you want to be the next big thing you need to be based New York, have attitude and not be the Strokes.  A wee while ago everyone was raving about Parquet Courts so I continued to listen to 90s grebo dance rock, waited until they weren’t cool anymore then bought Light Up Gold.  I should imagine this will be taken entirely the wrong way but my favourite bit of the album was the space between the songs.  The album is completely out of its face on whizz. It turns all the dials to “Arghh how do I get off this?!” and charges off over the horizon pausing only to buy 3 packs of gum, before ploughing into the next riff. For the first 10 minutes I can’t tell whether the heartbeat pauses are gaps in the tracks. And I really like that.

As a wise man once said: “New band! They’re from New York!* They’ve got attitude! They’re not the Strokes! Punky!” And so to Poliça.  It’s taken me 10 minutes to find that c with the dangly bit on it on this computer that now I’m annoyed with them. The other thing that annoyed me about them was that voice modulation thingymagig.  You know the one – that thing Cher used on ‘do you believe in life after love’ to make her sound like a sexy dalek.  You also know how when you get a new toy you think it’s the best thing ever a play with it to exclusion of all your others?  Well her from *cuts and pastes* Poliça got Cher’s annoying voice thing for her birthday and uses it on every single song on the album. Well certainly as far as track 8.  I had to turn it off then because it was bugging the flip out of me.

Where to next? Ooh Jon Hopkins.  I’ve seen him playing a weird piano accordion chimera at a festival once.  It’s widely accepted by musical historians that the humankind’s musical output peaked in the mid 90s with releases from Leftfield, Tricky, DJ Shadow, Chemical Brothers and Portishead to name but a few.  The nation’s musical serotonin was used up and then what followed was years of crippling musical depression.  God, this analogy is tedious.  It sounded so much better in my head. Anyway, where was…ah Mr Hopkins.  This album could’ve been released in the mid 90s and I would have gone, ‘yeah it’s alright – stands up to the other stuff that’s around at the moment’.  That’s my way of saying it’s absolutely brilliant and there’s not a weird piano accordion in sight.  It’s a full on proper techno record with a full on come down ending complete with King Creosote popping up to provide oodles of melancholy, depression and self loathing born of having been up and forgotten to eat for 3 days, realising you have to go to work in a pizza restaurant for 12hrs.  During the Edinburgh festival. On the hottest day of the year. And your girlfriend has left you. And you don’t know what to do with life. But in a good way.

Boards of Canada, Boards of Canada, Boards of Canada. What is there to say about Boards of Canada’s Tomorrow’s Harvest that hasn’t been said before?  How about;234I;UTWEGNBFLKMSDFFVTSJTRAVCBFGBJKGWEY5RFQDHBBFM0998765GHJKFLV BVLK. That’ll do it. I like this album.  I like music that can make you feel 17 different things at once and yet you can still listen to while doing a crossword. When I say ‘doing a crossword’ I do of course mean ‘eating toast and reading twitter’.  There’s just so much going on here.  It’s busier than a simile generator I used on these reviews, yet sounds bleak and empty.  HOW DO THEY DO THAT?

From public service broadcasting to Public Service Broadcasting.  I’m not quite sure how I came to own Inform – Educate – Entertain.  As has happened on an increasingly regular basis, I woke up the other day after a bottle or two of middle-aged mind relaxer to find half a dozen Amazon confirmation orders in my inbox and this particular album on my phone.  I know nothing about the artist but reckon it’s one or two blokes from either Brighton or London.  I’m basing this wholly on the fact that if the Go! Team and Lemon Jelly got drunk at a party, got off with each other, went on an awkward first date but saw enough in each other to go on a second date, start hanging out with other, realised they were in love, got married (in the most hipster wedding imaginable – it was in Shoreditch and the guests had to wear tweed), wanted kids, tried for kids for a few years then had IVF treatment and lo! Had a baby it would sound just like this.  I will love this more than any other record for the whole summer, play it at every waking moment, chuckle at the lovely dropping of samples - the ‘here we go again’ one being the current favourite, overdose on it then not listen to it again for 5 years.  It is what I do.  I have previous.

Living in Scotland, I’m contractually obliged to fawn over everything Fence records puts out. And reviewing The Pictish Trail I’m contractually obliged to mention the fact he lives under a rock on the Shebridean Island of Sphune.  Now we’ve got all that out of the way, let’s look at the music. Secret Soundz Vol.2 by young Mr Trail is rather splendid.  Heartfelt songs augmented with a fine selection of bleeps, distortion big bad drum loops, interesting ‘kzzzz’ bits and ultimately sounding like it was recorded in a bin on a wet Tuesday. Think Badly Drawn Boy making out with a sexy dalek.  In a wet bin.  On Tuesday.  I’m thinking audiophiles aren’t going to particularly like this. Ignore them. Like I just ignored that split infinitive.

*probably not from New York.  I’m on a boat in the middle of the North Sea with no internet."

Thanks for the contribution @Another__Name There are a few beauties in there that I still need to check out.

Thanks to the rest of you for stopping by.

Hope to see you back here again soon.

Simon S.

When something suddenly makes you think about an obscure 90s band #1 - Passion Fruit and Holy Bread

A friend of mine recently gave birth to a boy named Jonah.  Apart from the happiness I felt that my friend had had a baby, two other things instantly popped into my head on hearing the news.  The first was that if we had had a boy, instead of two girls, then Jonah was on the shortlist for names.

The second was that I suddenly remembered a band from the early 90s called Passion Fruit and Holy Bread who had a song called 'Jonah was swallowed by a big fish'.

I like it when this happens.  A band who you haven't thought about in 20 years is suddenly just there, front of mind.  It's like they knew all along - "I tell you what, if we put a person's name in one of our songs, someone is bound to randomly remember us in many years to come". Or maybe not.

Passion Fruit and Holy Bread, named after a lyric from Stone Roses' 'She Bangs the Drums' were pretty good, to be honest. They were lauded by the music press when they released the 'Jonah EP', which the above song featured on, and even appeared on my main man Gary Crowley's 'The Beat'. Everything seemed set up for success but then they just disappeared and haven't been heard of since.

If anyone knows of their whereabouts I'd love to hear about it.

Anyway, for those of you who never heard any of their stuff, below is a clip from their appearance on 'The Beat'. The song 'Arise' also appeared on the 'Jonah EP'.  I really like it, they had something a bit different at the time.  The lead singer had a good stage presence too.

Let us know what you think.

So, has an obscure band from the 90s suddenly popped into your head recently from nowhere?  If so, I'd love to hear about it.  If you fancy it, you can come on here and write about it.

Thanks for stopping by.

Loads of love

Simon S.
x