Calexico-'Carried To Dust' (City Slang 8/9/08)

From the opening of 'Victor Jara's Hands' you can hear the border town vibes that are threaded through this album like chillis through a burrito. Calexico definitely represent the town they take their name from. The song sets the town for the rest of 'Carried To Dust', full of South American chord progressions and the flaring of mariachi horns. Concerning the murdered political activist Victor Jara, the guitars chug offbeat, and the Spanish vocals intone passion, even if my year of language classes won't help any understanding.

'Two Silver Trees' acts all coy and downbeat, a picked melody, and low murmured vocals adding to a hint of menace. Then an almost 80s style chorus hits, and in its plinks of piano the tension is released in pop burbles.

The problem with too much of 'Carried To Dust'' is that it drifts past, like a tumbleweed. 'Writer's Minor Holiday' and 'House Of Valparaiso' float along like leaves on a river, and just as inconsequentially. Their hushed vibes do nothing to intrigue the listener, and you start to wonder what's on TV.

'Man Made Lake' grabs the ears back in, starting on a sparkling xylophone before epic guitars build it up, crescendoing outwards. The ambiance is perfect, empty towns conjured up out of the ether. Tones are varied on next track 'Inspiracion', where the mariachi horns return. A Mexican style piece, it sounds a lot like 'Latin Simone (¿Qué Pasa Contigo?)' from the first Gorillaz album. This is not a bad thing.

'Slowness' ruins all the good work. You could argue these languid songs have a gentle beauty. And in places they do. But before long your mind is wandering in other fields than the ones they try to evoke. Perhaps a symptom of attention deficit disorder, or perhaps a symptom of a lack of ideas. 'El Gotillo' sounds a little bit Devotcka, and the mix of whistling and Johnny Cash guitars creates a kaleidoscopic desert. The instrumental is one of the highlights of the album.

The flaw with 'Carried To Dust' is that too often it is happy to coast. There are notable exceptions, that manage to raise the listener out of his stupor with creative instrumentation and composition. The songs like 'Red Blooms' appear, and sound like a fade out that never fades, such is the torturous pace. For atmosphere the album is hard to beat, so soaked in Americana vibes is it. For something to get your pulse racing, and fingers tapping, the excitements are few and far between.
2.5/5

Captive State- 'Elmore Grove EP' (22/9/08 Genuine Records)

Do you miss the Beta Band? This might be an alternative for you, as on 'Mona' Captive State create a vibe very very similar to the old Scottish band. Melodies are added on top of melodies, with horns eventually thrown onto the tottering pile, a bed of acoustic rattles and synths beneath. Repetitive vocals create a transcendent feel, like you're floating, the space pop carrying you away. It almost helps you escape the grey skies and rain soaked pavements.

However, the lyrics on 'China White Doll' are like the bad kid at the back of the class, letting everyone down. Dull platitudes about a girl, full of cliches such as years/tears and sun/done and tired metaphors. It's a shame, cos the gentle acoustic lines, and lulled brass and xylophone plonk backing works brilliantly. It would be moving, particularly on the slow piano fade out, but for the stupid words.

Gloom filled electronics take over on 'Weatherman', where synths and bass dominate over the acoustics, relegated to the background. The lyrics continue to fail, with the line “he knew one day he would die” delivered with drama that it doesn't deserve. Like getting Brian Blessed to read out train times.

'Lost' returns to the feel of 'Mona', creating a bookend of intelligent pop songs that show what Captive State do best. When they stick to the bombast of orchestral glory, then the sub par nature of the lyrics can be forgiven and forgotten. Adventurousness should always be encouraged, but not if you forget to pack your backpack properly.
3.5/5

Sister- 'Lovers Of Today' (The Flower Shop)

'Lovers Of Today' brings dark guitars, and gloomy keys, and tries to channel Sons And Daughters and other bands of that ilk. It fails. It feels false, like Sister hired a crack team of rock stars to provide some edge to their music, and they cracked under the pressure. Then, three minutes in, even they get bored, and the track just stops. Dead.

'Down Down' raises standards a tad, and makes like the Velvet Underground on their lullaby moments. Guitars burble and strum in the background, and a xylophone plinks like a music box. Singer Gemma Banks is hushed, and the song soothes like a lover's embrace. Maybe too soothing though. The song quietly nurdles along, but after two minutes your attention is lost. Distracted by a shiny thing, or a piece of torn brown paper on your bedroom floor.

Sister show two sides on this release, a churning guitar led one that doesn't fit them, like a pair of your fat brother's castoff jeans, and a more introspective side, that could work, of there was some jagged edges hidden in the ether of the song.
2/5

4 Or 5 Magicians- 'Behind Each Other's Back' (DIY)

There are 5 members of 4 Or 5 Magicians. There could be made some lame joke about the shameful state of numeracy in Britain, but: A- this is not the Daily Mail, and B- you, the reader, and me, the 'journo', are likely the same age as the band.

The opening of 'Behind Each Other's Backs' hits big, twirling guitars added over more layers of guitars, like some tottering wedding cake before it breaks down into vocals that bear some resemblance to the old clatterings of Eastern Lane. It takes the box marked '90s British indie', all a bit Britpop and lovely.

Even better is the B side 'I'm In The Band', which excavates the soggy bags of Pavement's louche charm, the guitar solo played with delayed slackness over the slightly wonky pace that they had so down pat. As a nostalgia trip, it works great. On its own individual merits it rocks out in a lazy manner, spiraling skyward, higher and higher.

4 Or 5 Magicians are on some brilliant trip to somewhere special in the future, around about now. Hop onto their hoverboard... Go. If you want, you can make your own joke about the tracks being 'magic', but we are sooooo above that.
4/5

Port O Brien- 'All We Could Do Was Sing' (City Slang)

The rural pursuits are currently getting a good hearing in indie music. First we had the log cabin hermitage of Bon Iver & the distinctly agrarian feel of Fleet Foxes, and now we have the fisherman antics of Port O'Brien, featuring Alaskan salmon snaffler Van Pierszalowski and friends. What's next? Farmers making breakbeat? A jazz quintet of shepherds? No answers this end, but at least it's getting quieter in the city.

The album starts with a strong contender for album opener of the year, the relentlessly perky 'I Woke Up Today'. Guitars roll along, channeling other young upstarts of the summer Born Ruffians, vocals chanted like mantras.

Following the upbeat intro, things take on a downbeat hue on the next few songs. The nautical elements of the band's origins are brought out on 'Stuck On A Boat', which wins today's 'Ronseal award' for song topic displayed in title, although it is closely run with 'Fisherman's Son', where Van declares he's “doing fine in Alaska”. The ideas of following your family trade that feature in the song take on a sad hue, with the lyrics suggesting a desire for escape, but a hatred of the city. As he declares, “I can never win”.

The more the album plays on, the more the sombre songs take over. 'Don't Take My Advice' carries on the restlessness that inflicts Van, declaring he's “not ready to settle down”. Escape from fishing, escape from the city, the touring life of a rock n roll band seems perfect.

'Alive For Nothing' continues the despair, haunted dreams and depressed minds over cellos and strums. Seratonin seems to be popped for 'Eyes Won't Shut' with chiming acoustic guitars and handclaps , but it's deceptive, with lyrics focusing on relaxing, Van finally settling to “waste this lazy afternoon”.

Then, suddenly, things get stormy. A squall of guitars thrash over the end of 'Pigeonhold', the quiet revelry of the first half of the album replaced with noise and rock. It's out of context like a polar bear in Woolworths buying pick 'n mix, but it makes a brilliant sea change. (Did you see what I did there?)

'The Rooftop Song' has a whirling country strut, before again throwing in duelling guitars before a slow calm fade out, that leads well in to the country vibes of 'In Vino Veritas', a slow burning beauty,

“Put me on a boat and cut the line”, Van declares at the beginning of 'Close The Lid' as the song crescendos outwards, instruments added into the sonic blender one by one. The album fades out with the lo fi crackle of 'Valdez', leaving us with a wonderfully understated album that leaves you with a salty tear in your eye at its folky wonder.
4.5/5

Minotaur Shock- 'Amateur Dramatics' (4AD)

Sort of following the lauded/lambasted Radiohead concept, fans of Minotaur Shock pay a varying price for each track of this album, depending on difficulty, fun, whether it made his computer crash and how many extra musicians, amongst others. Attention grabbing. Tick. Clever. Tick. Going to stop kids downloading. Cross. Sad really, because this album deserves the money.

'Zookeeper' starts off with an out of kilter piano, adds cello and some drums, then puts more instrumentation over the top, before returning yet again to the piano run, like a dog back to its vomit. Except not, cos it's brilliant.

'Am Dram' carries on the odd electronic feel of the album. Handclaps rub along with a churning synth which rubs along with woodwind playing out the melody. The electronic elements start to take over on 'This Plane Is Going To Fall', gradually replacing the human with the machine, burbles and whirrs erasing the natural. Disembodied voices make their first and only appearance, ghosts in the machine.

The human has been completely erased by 'Jason Forrest', where clashing keyboards create the most danceable moments of the record, bass heavy and flowing. It sounds like a rave up in a club decorated with branches and leaves, a rainforest atmosphere. The pace is disorientatingly slowed on 'Two Magpies', as woozy beeps shiver into fading violins, all melancholic and cute.

Patrick Wolf is almost channeled on 'My Burr', his technicolour dress sense just visible behind the keyboard gurgle and descending strings. 'BATS' sounds the only downpoint of the record, a dirty beat meandering for far too long, with the melodies that dominate through the circuit boards forgotten temporarily.

'Snapdragon' then throws the creeps and the night horrors onto record, slightly off key pianos and spooky strings, shifting tempos and an eerie overlay of static. It's enough to make someone scared in the middle of the day, in a room full of people, let alone at night in a foggy village.

'Buzzards' does not sound like the birds of prey of its title, and more like motorway driving, Kraftwerk like. The pushing drums and trumpet stabs create a feeling of motion and isolation, and the track works brilliantly.

Album close 'Beekeeper' is slippy slidey, moving from electronics into entwining snakes of chimes and strings and trumpets before it all comes into focus, a gorgeous layered image. 'Amateur Dramatics' is great, an album that has a heart under its metal skin, strings and brass mixing with synths and computers to create deliriously danceable ditties.
4/5

Grammatics- 'New Franchise' (Dance To The Radio)

Apparently Grammatics are opening a 'New Franchise.' So says the first line anyway. What is the new franchise? Subway? Some novel Dragons Den product like cheese slippers? Shimmery complex pop songs? The latter seems the most likely, based on the evidence here.

Pieces build up, cellos layered over propulsive drumming, synth noises, vocal layers. It topples over at the end into plain vocals and then it's gone. It is brilliant in places, layers meshing together in perfect unity.

The problem is that something about this song just doesn't seem to gel to these ears. The parts are all lovely, things go tinkle in the night, pianos create a slightly eerie atmosphere, like an empty city covered in rain, but somehow it doesn't quite work together. The engine is nearly assembled, it's just missing a few pieces. It keeps switching gears when it's not quite ready. (To stretch the metaphor further) bit more time in the garage needed.
3.5/5