Tag Archives: United Kingdom

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Useless Cities

Feel free to correct me if I’m wrong on this one, but it seems as if British indie has stumbled into a bit of a rut of late. Since arguably the last golden era of indie bands this country has produced, which by my estimates was around the mid-00’s, the amount of them has shrunk considerably since the turn of the decade. Some bands no doubt were able to consistently duplicate their success upon each album release, most notably the Arctic Monkeys, before they decided to turn American, and more recently Foals who seemingly been able to evolve critically from strength to strength. There are several bands hanging in there and have been for several years, like your Ashes, your Fratellis, your Cribs, your Subways for example, many bands whose glory days seem long gone but persistently release music to a loyal, adoring fan base, who continue to turn out to shows and keep motivation and spirits high to look forward to the future. Sadly, as the nature of technology and commercial success in the industry shifts so frequently, there are several bands who’ve become causalities in the musical landslide, as sustaining a career stretches further and further out of reach for those previously thrust in the spotlight and airwaves. These are dark days for British guitar music for sure, but under the surface, what you could classify as an underground resistance is currently producing some of the best indie you’ll have encountered in years. Useless Cities, hailing from the nation’s capital, are among that resistance with an ache in their hearts expressed exquisitely through a mournful touch of the piano and a melancholic pounding of the guitar.

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Though their emotions are not exclusively wired to wallow in sorrow, there is an ethereal and transcendent nature to Useless Cities’ music that melancholy brings the best out of. Their Stay EP though only three tracks long, is a wave of sonically cold but breathtaking musical splendour, combining unforgettable melodies seeped in calm composure, with an unexpected fury that riles their initial breeze into a hurricane of heartbreak. No track illustrates this exclamation point better than Follow. While Stay is a gorgeous piano-driven stroll through arctic plains and To Be Ruined, a far more spirited tumble through dreams that take a turbulent turn, it’s Follow that finely balances the band’s strengths perfectly. Delay-drenched guitar leads Follow in, with the booming of a near-tribal tom pattern from the drums, and the lightest touch of low end entering not long after, painting the scene for solemn reflection. Vocals wander in, listing things to do to an unspecified character, with his settled bellow against the melody of the guitar a strangely hypnotising presence throughout the song’s course. A bright shimmer of keys layer atop the instruments, sending a chill down the spine of the listener but adding light to this arguably greying atmosphere. This brings in the cymbals and snare of the drums, gradually shifting the tone into the subtlest of build-ups, masked well by the vocals and instruments while the grace and beauty of the piano becomes more prominent as the song progresses. Then in the song’s twilight, the guitar bursts into life with an eye-opening intensity and drums are beaten hard into submission, serving as a backdrop for the male and female chanting in harmony and the piano trying to restore a sense of tranquillity to this sudden gale of musical force. And the piano gets its wish, closing out Follow in the manner it began, a series of notes against the echo of the guitar, jerking the strings of your heart as the final note fades into the distance. What Useless Cities offer more so than a collection of songs, is an aural palette to paint your own stories from the emotionally stirring compositions they lay before you. How it affects you is left to your own semiotics, but know that they are exploring rarely traversed ground in indie and their own bittersweet twist on the sound we’ve known to grow and love, ranks among the best and most unique bands the indie scene has to offer.

 

 

Useless Cities’ Stay EP is out now at all respectable music retailers. Any more information you wish to know about them can be located on the band’s website. The band are also playing frequent live dates in and around the capital right now so keep your eyes peeled for a date near you, or bring them to your doorstep and book them for your own show.

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Track of The Week: Tiny Giant – Joely/How

A few months ago, a statement was issued on this site about the creative force behind Tiny Giant and that they are likely to be one of the most exciting acts to keep an eye on in 2016. That was solely based on two tracks on Soundcloud, with no prior release date, nor word of a forthcoming release, EP or album. Their forte is the melding of a mesmerising dream-pop haze à la Goldfrapp and a titanic progressive rock crunch; a near-unique pairing in a musical climate so vast and so adverse to standing out, that those tuned in, numbers growing daily, have awaited some form of release with bated breath. For those personnel, that wait has come to an end and if you are just joining us on the official maiden voyage of Tiny Giant, your timing couldn’t have been more impeccable.

Since the beginning of this year, the impression was given that Seeing Everything As Though It Is Real and Heavy Love may have been first for a public release, as the very first introductory tracks to this terrific musical partnership and as they have been now circulating Soundcloud for the best part of half a year. Come this month, that plan has changed as two brand new tracks have surfaced and continue to raise the bar for what is to come from the London duo. While Joely has been pushed as the headline act of the single, both sides Joely and How are equally important and enrapturing when it comes to distilling down the essence of Tiny Giant, and thus focus will be placed upon both of them.

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Where Seeing Everything… invoked that initial Goldfrapp comparison, Joely certainly completes it. Starting with what sounds like kick drums submerged under the ocean, a continual bright chord of synth keys raises the beat to the surface, igniting a glorious burst of synth, a near angelic level of vocals and if you listen carefully, a terrifyingly distorted wall of guitar that somehow slots perfectly in place into this seemingly innocent pop presentation. The burst is soon hushed to just the beat, the warm buzz of the keys and vocals, which although gentile and soothing, have a confidence worthy of the grandiose of the music backing it. Honestly, there is a grace to Chloe’s voice that not only exposes her own musical merits, but the merits of the compositions she brings to life. There are still traces of a trance-like state these verses can bring, but is not as potent as either of its predecessors were in doing so. Instead, that seems swapped for an overall feeling of bliss and rapture that the tone of the track brings together. As verses progress, additional cymbals and beats are added to the percussion and the guitar is allowed a full force bellow, highlighting the greater depth of their songwriting arsenal. No doubt, Joely is a beautifully composed, premier standard of pop music, more than worthy of radio rotation and again, brings attention to the incredible talents of Chloe Alper and Mat Collis. But it is perhaps flipside How, that elevates Tiny Giant from a mere airplay curiosity to a full-blown stereo juggernaut.

Ask yourself. Have you ever heard the vocal talents of any female artist front a post-rock style band, or track at a push? This isn’t of course a mutually exclusive event, but Chloe may be the very first I’ve encountered. Wailing guitars supersede the triumphant synth we saw beforehand, shifting the tone to a more melodic, but certifiably more melancholic one. Drums gather pace, the clattering of the snare injecting an urgency into the music the complete opposite to Joely’s sky-gazing demeanour while vocals take a siren’s approach to luring you into listening. The passage of Chloe’s notes held is utterly gorgeous, making that contrast between her and the drums crashing from behind a deeply satisfying experience. An underlay of those same notes sit below the verse as vocals weave their tale, drums refusing to let up which both adds a layer of the fantastical and the ominous in the build up to the chorus. The pay-off in which is something truly spectacular. An effects-loaded tremolo is nothing new in post-rock, but it’s the accompaniment of drums being pounded into the ground and the echoes of a serene female songstress that make the magnitude of this moment far greater than words can paint a picture of. As How progresses further, bass enters in an enormous fashion, giving the track an unexpected groove and swagger you could give a fan club and a jacket to, as well as meddling with the time signature a tad, something previously undisclosed from the duo’s output so far. It all lends itself to the track’s climax; a titanic thrashing of guitar, bass and drums, all with the refrain of ‘How do you do it?’ cried over the volume and density of the final sound attack.

There is a lot that goes on in the three and a half minutes of How to cover completely and absolutely, but to stand side by side with Joely, it makes this marvel of single that more compelling to onlookers. This demonstrates Tiny Giant’s agenda perfectly, granted in two distinct flavours, the ability to transition from a immaculately produced soul-charged pop single with atmospheric undertones, to a behemoth of guitar-fronted brute strength backed by beats that could pulverise your bones into dust. Perhaps the correct summation of their namesake really. I implore you. Keep Tiny Giant under careful watch. Their talent alone is worth its weight in gold, but with twists and turns rapidly emerging from the song library they are crafting, you need not another reason to believe why they are becoming one of the most exciting bands of 2016.

Joely/How is available now at all good respectable music retailers, as word on an upcoming full-length release or EP is still rather hush-hush. For now. All other songs, while not yet available, can be located on the Tiny Giant Soundcloud page for your listening pleasure. They are also tentatively playing live dates at the moment, but go book them so they get greater exposure and all that jazz.

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Track of The Week: Mask Of Bees – S-P.K.Y.

This may sound an unusual start to a post on a brand new emerging band, but I have a tale to begin with. I hope it’ll make sense eventually. So a few years ago, I attended a barbeque hosted by my best friend, and for some reason or other, I decided to come in a neon yellow t-shirt, the equivalent of wearing a hi-vis jacket in the middle of the bloody day. It glows all on its own, I’ve been told it hurts people’s eyes. But this shirt attracted the attention of a local bumblebee, right before industry pesticides started threatening their existence and what not and it landed on the shirt, presumably thinking I must have been a pretty flower. Instead of shooing it away, I let it sit there, understanding it was probably trying to pollinate my shirt, but it wasn’t doing me any harm. It sat there until it stopped moving, of which I wondered had it died and then did I try to move it off my shirt. Some gentle force eventually removed it. It hadn’t died. The dopey insect had merely fallen asleep and took flight once again. I’ve always had an affinity for the winged stripy balls of fluff since that day. A similar affection I share with a band named after a mask of them.

When it comes to bees in music, they haven’t made much of a name for themselves, or definitely remain an under-appreciated musical force in the grand scheme of things. Perhaps the most famous example is classical masterpiece The Flight of the Bumblebees, the grandiose, expanding brass section now an iconic piece of musical history and natural fit for narrating any overcoming of the odds, or war charge. Some other examples include the Bee Gees, notable Anthrax rarities album Attack Of The Killer B’s, Danish noise outfit Beehoover, Insideinfo’s frankly terrifying but kick-ass neurofunk destroyer Honeybee and timeless Beatles tune Let It… actually that one is cheating. But off the bat, it seems a struggle to name several musical triumphs involving the humble bee. Unless you just guess that there’s a band called The Bees, which you’d be right in thinking as they live on the Isle of Wight. See also Grumble Bee from Yorkshire. This is where a great surge in progressive rock prowess advances forth and Mask of Bees can not only change the state of bees in music, but far more importantly, steer the course of a brand new wave of UK rock bands.

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Their debut album Beta is seven tracks of turbulent, sax-injected hard rock constructs whose paths co-ordinate the chaotic with the transcendental in a manner that’ll quicken the pulse of the rabid Tool and Faith No More hordes. How it must translate to a live environment is a dizzying prospect in the best possible way, for their acute craftsmanship certainly knows how to wring impact out of their music. From the opening time-signature havoc caused by Talisent, onto the battle between calm and calamity of Tendering, shifting to spellbinding, melancholic ambient phases expressed by Peacel Sloot, and concluding with the bruising grooves and vocal centrepiece of Carpet Burn, Beta’s 29-minute duration jostles with so much energy and creativity, you could market it as an alternative fuel source. Touching on the subject of impact, while its presence is inescapable, the saxophone truly elevates Beta as a seminal exhibition of talent, despite its already stellar foundations. While its inclusion is slowly becoming more of a mainstay in modern rock and metal, you certainly feel the passion, intensity and emotion blossoming forth from every ounce of music the saxophone touches, just as the jazz greats intended. But whilst the saxophone jockeys for the limelight on numerous occasions, absolute focus and the true shining moment stands out on personal favourite S-P.K.Y.

The only real moment of tranquillity on this album can be found in the beginning of this track with the saxophone whispering sweet nothings, the gentlest of delay emanating from these softer notes. It strikes a chord somewhere between a jazz ballad and New Age music, a sound of purest beauty. From there, it starts to go a little haywire. Gradually getting louder and more aggressive, the guise of a solo saxophone interlude does lead in drums and melodic picking, adding a tint of ominousness to the mood. Vocals sound as though they emerge from a mist, soaked in reverb and later stronger delay but the croon is an irresistible comfort to an uncertain atmosphere and stands alone as one of the album’s finest points. Pressure does give way and the full force of their brutish yet technically impressive instrumental might explodes onto the scene, along with a full restoration of the vocals for the chorus, animating the most mellow tone on the album. The song carries on with another submersion of the vocals back into the mist, almost acting as gatekeeper for the louder dynamics, the interplay between that uncertain calm and the fiery intensity of the band, before concluding in a surprisingly cathartic breakdown at around the five minute mark.

It needs not to be said much more, but like any collective hive, it can only be as good as its collective workforce, and as Mask of Bees go as a workforce, they are among some of the most proficient and musically exciting workers you’ll hear all year.

 

 

I’d like to extend my thanks to Mask of Bees for granting me such early access to their album, this album was an absolute pleasure to listen to and to write about. Beta is out now on their Bandcamp page in a digital and physical capacity, for a very reasonable price so go get that. They perform live frequently also. It shouldn’t be long until they perform very near you soon.

Give them the round of applause they deserve right here:

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Litterbug

It seems like somewhat of a mystery to me for reasons I can’t get to grips with, but I’m not really much of a fan of the 70’s when it comes to that discussion of the best decade for music. This all boils down to opinion and personal preference of course, so personally speaking, there will never really be a definitive answer, unless you feel compelled to survey the population of Earth that can comprehend musical eras and have functioning hearing. Make no mistake, the 70’s birthed some important music, such as Black Sabbath’s Master of Reality, sited as one of the heaviest albums of all-time and most likely responsible for pioneering the ‘doom metal sound.’ But you know what was the most important music that the 70’s was able to birth? Punk. It served as a counterpart to the state of mind and a form of practice through fashion and action, but given how vital its tendencies and ideologies were, especially now, rife in the age of self-publication and self-production, the music and its spirit live on through countless bands and artists. Aspiring and established alike. The faces change over time, and its sound distorted, twisted, disfigured and transformed in endless shapes and evolutions, so when you encounter a gang playing punk as it once was, as raw, uncompromising and unapologetically honest as its roots implied, the outcome is as invigorating as you’d hope it would be.

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For the best part of over a decade, Blackpool’s Litterbug have kept the very essence of punk alive by keeping a lo-fi, bare bones approach to writing triumphant bursts of social critique and defiance that could’ve been ripped straight out of the punk revolution at its apex. It is the embodiment of three gentlemen with a message, getting together and thrashing out music that you can feel the passion and heart of in every chord and every word. This isn’t one-dimensional punk either. Instances of the surfing 60’s guitar movement can be felt here, as well as a healthy injection of grunge, most evident by their roaring cover of Pixies’ Planet of Sound. Their most recent long-player Artistic Harassment, an album from front-to-end that flies faster than bullet velocity, punches as hard as a water cannon to the chest but remains as exhilarating as a shuttle ascending into the stratosphere, poses a monumentally difficult task to highlight a standalone track of a stellar punk blueprint. If pressed enough though, I’d settle for Codeine. While there are many, many irresistible hooks best illustrated through ditties I Will Not Explain, You Don’t Want What I Don’t Want and Bash My Brain, the slower-paced, sub-two minute showcase of attitude in Codeine brings out what Litterbug do best. From the outset, guitar performs as a handsaw over a gas-guzzling, chain-bladed one, but that methodical practice serves well with the scuzzy tone, chords almost morphing into riffs from the speed switch. The vocal delivery is undeniably snotty, without being obnoxiously so and serves as one of the album’s most perfect analogies of telling life and society where to shove its predicaments and insecurities. Think Sex Pistols meeting the Buzzcocks on Fistral Beach and you’re pretty damn close. The soft grumble of bass does surface to the forefront throughout and fleshes out the texture of the sound and that illusion of recording on eight-track in your garage, as old-school and pure as music production can get. A pseudo-guitar solo even gets a brief see-in in the short duration of the track, perhaps giving a quick nod to Chuck Berry and the rock and roll greats in the process. But just as you feel the engine revving up, the ignition is gradually turned back off and you can’t help but crave more. You can’t realistically experience the full capacity of Litterbug’s arsenal based on a minute and 49 seconds worth of material, however repeated listens do make for excellent profile building. These three gentlemen make music that is as full-blooded and unrepentant as punk and its pioneers were heralded for, and each collection of songs they commit to record is another kick-ass footnote on why punk never died, it merely went on vacation.

Litterbug’s latest album Artistic Harassment can be found on their Reverb Nation page with the vast majority of that album, generously available as free downloads. A handful of other tracks are also available as free downloads too, including that aforementioned Planet of Sound cover. Otherwise, physical and full digital copies of their other albums are incredibly scarce, besides copies of their 2005 and 2009 re-release of the acclaimed Speaking Through The Gaps which can be found on most respectable music retailers.

Give these guys your seal of approval:

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8 Great Bands To Listen To While You Wait For The New Tool Album

Ironically, it almost seems like 10,000 days since we saw the last Tool album. Well, 10,000 days is the equivalent to 27 and a bit years, so not quite that far yet, but it has at least been a decade since the previous album from the LA masters of progressive metal. And understandably, there’s a lot of hype growing towards it, as on and off progress continues to be made, and has been for at least three years, not owing part to the now resolved lawsuit that had hung heavy over their heads for a lengthy period of time. There’s also an awful lot of impatience. So far, the only trace of new material we’ve had is a two-minute long instrumental jam, tentatively titled Descending, which by the band’s own admission is only a fragment of a song in progress. Yet the memes, anger and remarks persist. So I thought I’d offer an alternative to those dismayed by the lack of answers or have grown tired of waiting, by rounding up eight excellent, lesser known bands to listen to in the mean time whilst the new Tool album materialises:

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Randolph & Mortimer

History has gone to show it is infamous for remembering and celebrating the individuals and the cults of personality that have walked among us at one time or another. I’m sure that you really don’t need me to go above and beyond to name a few here, you could all name a handful of people off the bat. Their influence and importance of course relies entirely on you as a person, which is perhaps why I’d say it’s unfair to suggest that one person is of far greater importance than another. It’s all subjective. On the other hand, history has shown that it can be just as good celebrating couples and pairs. You may be a little harder pressed to name some off the bat, but I can give you a few of varying life paths. Bonnie and Clyde, Torville and Dean, Brad and Angelina, Elvis and Costello, Jack and Jill… You get the idea. The point is they’re all remembered for something, no matter their significance to you as a person. You’re aware of them regardless. At first glance of the pairing of Randolph and Mortimer, you could assume they operate as a construction firm, (like Gibbs and Dandy if you hail from the UK) or the surnames of serial killers, or war criminals. The truth kind of combines the two in some capacity. Dependent on how you label bankers and politicians.

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The name actually derives from the film Trading Places, where two stock brokers, going by the names of Randolph and Mortimer switch places with two gentlemen in less fortunate social and financial circumstances, as an experiment to experience life on the other side. Which in today’s political climate we seem to be calling for a lot, to the governments and fat cats who more likely have never struggled in everyday social and financial situations. It certainly makes that name far more poignant. The Sheffield three-piece (yes, despite going under the moniker of a duo) practice a manifesto of condemnation and repulsion, punctuated by a series of electronically driven, industrial rallying movements. Powered by the analogue synths and percussive might of the 80’s, it only makes sense that visuals match the sonics, with wireframe silhouettes and what resembles Thatcherite Britain providing the backdrop for the ire unfolding. Most recent single Citizens isn’t so much a feast for the disenchanted, more a capitalist brainwashing broadcast if such an occurrence were to play out. Brought to a marching pace by booming snare hits and dampened synth arpeggios, the beat very much tribalistic in tempo and timbre, the checklist for what constitutes a valid member of society is rolled out, as well as quasi-motivational slogans in how to do so. A heavily distorted voice calls out in the distance, reaching indecipherable levels but certainly adds a touch of unease and morality to this otherwise calming instructional narrative. Later, a ferocious sawtooth synth wave cuts through the rhythm, near stopping it in its tracks, while a brighter counterpart, still as abrasive as its bass-heavy contemporary, layers atop before bringing the beat back and ushering in a new breed of arpeggios to meld with the originals. In the end, all of the individual synth lines piece together and play out increasingly chaotic percussion, to one last eerie inquisitive dialogue against a wall of noise. This is best experienced as an audio-visual sensation to truly get the best feel for the message Randolph and Mortimer wish to convey, but the music itself is just as an exciting head-trip in its own right. Though the political agenda is unmistakeable, these guys are producing stellar industrial in the veins of the old blood and will most likely not remain an underground sensation for much longer. History has every right to remember the constructs of these gentlemen.

 

 

Citizens has yet to see a release date, but no doubt will have a digital release at some stage in the near future. In the mean time, their $ocial £utures €P and single Enjoy More are available from their Bandcamp page, in addition to other singles and numerous remixes of theirs that can be found on most respectable music retailers.They are also playing the Saturday line-up on the main stage of Resistanz Festival 2016, but look out for a gig near you soon.

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Screech Bats

There was something inherently right ironically when Refused released The Shape Of Punk To Come: punk rock over the years seems to have morphed predominantly into the hardcore we are all familiar with and ten a penny’s worth emblazoned on the cover of Kerrang. Don’t get me wrong, I love Refused and there are some excellent hardcore bands out there if you’re willing to do a little digging. My point is, hardcore tends be the norm if you’re looking for something that even remotely resembles punk nowadays. I can hear people crying pop-punk in the distance, but let’s just be serious a moment. Hardcore it seems presents itself as an outlet for a melting pot of rage and testosterone, and it can all come across as a bit violent at times. Creating a riot for catharsis’ sake I guess I can understand the appeal of, but not when I’m getting roundhouse kicked in the face by some topless prick in the mosh pit. I can’t speak for myself because I wasn’t present in the 70’s and had no idea of riot grrrl at least until my teens, but do you remember when punk wasn’t so macho, or dare I say it, a lot more fun? Screech Bats seem to certainly think about that time. I mean, their band logo is a dinosaur with pigtails eating an ice-cream for Christ sakes. You could certainly whisper riot grrrl under your breath as so much as look at them, but out of everything that seems to be rising from the dead right now, the presence of more all-female punk bands is more than OK with me. And these girls kick ass.

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Credit: Derek Bremner Photography

On first listen, their sound comes across as an unmistakably more British interpretation of The Distillers, but gradually you taste the flavours of punk, grunge and good ol’ fashioned rock and roll with the lightest hit of pop sensibilities, all emerging from a punchy concoction. Their work ethic is certainly something to be celebrated too. They haven’t been on the face of the Earth a year yet and already they’re racking the gigs up and have their first EP out in the world. Under cover of darkness, they released a track off the self-titled aforementioned EP a month or so ago, called Pathologigirl and based on the strength of this track alone, Screech Bats are shaping up to be a very special band. From the moment the pistol trigger is pulled, you’re treated to quick, chainsaw-on-fire sounding chords, harmonised by jagged guitar and gritty bass, brought to life by an animated drum performance. From the double bass kicks and brief drum rolls, you get the feel for Bad Religion over Sex Pistols, but the pace and technique remains timeless in any sense. Vocals skate alongside, telling a tale about the bane of any girl, or child for that matter growing up: playground bullying, and judging on the choice of words used, there’s a lot of bad blood and disdain here, and you can certainly feel it drip from every scathing syllable. A lovely little guitar lick, showcasing some of that grunge and rock and roll influence, propels you into the chorus, which has all the traits of a great punk anthem: memorability, gang chants, an opportunity for massive audience participation and rock solid musicianship, all swashed with the confidence, attitude and swagger that punk breeds. It also has a cracking guitar solo too near the song’s close and ends in white hot riff worship, which I think we’ll see a little more from in the future. All in all, this is a rousing and incredibly exciting sub-three minute burst of unity through fury, exactly the foundations punk was built upon before it started taking steroids. Who needs Bad Religion when you have this hard-working quartet of ladies practically sitting on your doorstep? They’ll probably kick the door down too. Inspiring listening.

 

The self-titled EP is available to purchase from their online store for an absolute steal, while I’m led to believe a download purchase is currently in the works too. Meanwhile, they’re touring anywhere and everywhere, so go see them at the date nearest you. I promise you won’t regret it.

While you do all that, go give them your support and send love in their direction here:

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Tiny Giant

So the saying goes that you’re never supposed to meet your heroes. Why that is the actual case or anyone presumes they will only disappoint you, seems rather far-fetched if you ask me. Then again, I’ve done a pretty good job of not really meeting any of my heroes thus far. Probably because half of them are dead. The other half I think I’d require some of sort fate-like chance encounter to even get near. Perhaps somewhat because I can come across as shy and undeniably awkward. Musicians certainly seem to have that effect on me. Due to the sheer number of bands and musicians I actually like, I could say that I have a lot of heroes I haven’t met. I only ended up meeting The Qemists because I can jump high in crowded spaces and James Rushent from Does It Offend You Yeah? because my friends pushed me over towards where he was standing. Just to give you an indicator. But what about the opposite effect? What about when your heroes accidentally end up meeting you? I can safely say overwhelming happiness and the odd inhuman sounding noise were protocol on that day. So goes how the tale of this Tiny Giant piece came into being.

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The brainchild of former Pure Reason Revolution vocalist and current touring guitarist for Charlie XCX, Chloe Alper, and drummer, sound engineer, producer and all-round musical maestro Mat Collis, Tiny Giant’s call-to-arms is a clash between often soothing hypnotic ambience and ground-pounding instrumental punches. In short, like those floating dreams you have, only with the gods themselves hurling boulders in your direction at the same time. Most recent single Seeing Everything As Though It Is Real certainly implies as such, building momentum with a minute and a half’s worth of ethereal string-tinged cloud-gazing. Through out, glimmers and teases of an angelic refrain, invoking the spirit of Seventh Tree-era Goldfrapp, call out in the distance, showcasing one such area of the impressive vocal dexterity of Chloe if unfamiliar with her previous work. Ambience is left to form its own spellbinding drone, a little on the Eno side of affairs, leading into a moment’s cold chill of guitar right before a gigantic shift in tone. That cold chill remains a constant presence but ends up near muted, as the size and volume of cannon-force bass overlays and overpowers the previous serene setting, leaving drums that can match the ferocity and brute strength of the sound, and the soulful sirenesque demeanour of Chloe’s vocals for company. Whether the vocals sit in hushed climates, or revel in the carnage between guitar and drums, there’s no denying they are an object of versatile beauty and a phenomenal centrepiece to a truly involving composition. One titanic Tom Morello-inspired groove and final chorus later, and you’re left with a lot to digest. Tiny Giant are offering a unique take on a quiet-loud dynamic shift, forcibly smashing together dream-pop and progressive rock into an intriguing and strangely alluring sonic sculpture. The sheer potential and unpredictability of this combination, let alone the incredible talents of both musicians involved, can only ensure that Tiny Giant sit firmly on the horizon as one of the most creative and exciting projects to watch out for this year.

There is yet to be a release date for either of the two tracks, Seeing Everything As Though It Is Real and Heavy Love, which can be found on Chloe’s Soundcloud page, but there is a full-length album believed to be in progress, with a presumed 2016 release date pencilled in. Keep an eye on it. Only good can come of this.

In the mean time, you can give them a virtual hug right here:

https://www.facebook.com/TinyGiantmusic/?fref=ts

And if you feel like giving me a virtual hug too, be it via a like, a follow, subscribing or some nice words, you can do so here:

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https://twitter.com/The_Soundshark

 

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The Soundshark’s Top 20 Songs of 2015

Something somebody said recently struck me as it made an awful lot of sense. Exactly when do you stop saying, ‘Happy New Year,’ to one another? Or at least when does it become acceptable at the least. I honestly don’t know, but for now, I’m still considering it an appropriate time to talk about my favourite songs of last year. Seeming I’ve made a habit of it, and I finally have time to sit down and write about them.

2015 was a challenging year as it more or less marked my transition from degree student to having to fend for myself. Sometimes it sucked, sometimes it didn’t. But something that I didn’t previously have was a companion, somebody that I hold very dear to me and somebody I look forward to what the future holds for the both of us. As such, she has had an impact on deciding this list, just as much as the rollercoaster of emotions I’ve gone through in the past year has. Like I’ve said before, I do these lists for biographical reasons, to show where I’ve been and what’s happened in years gone by. Music and memory are powerful things.

So my rules for the list are as follows: I don’t always pick songs from this year to put on the list, it involves literally anything I’ve listened to in the past year that I’ve enjoyed frequently enough (that said, there are a lot of 2015 entries on this list which makes a change), but I try to avoid putting more than one song by the same artist in. Some of my past lists had more than one or two. You can find them on Spotify if you want to.

I would like to make an honourable mentions list, but there were far too many to include on this year’s list, so I’ll skip that formality this time. Just so many good moments or songs to include the entire list. And if you would like to listen to this list uninterrupted, commentary-free, then head on over to the Spotify playlist instead.

Righty then, on with the show…

Continue reading →

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Bowie And Me

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Credit: Vanilla Underground/Amplified

To clarify from the outset, I never had the opportunity to meet David Bowie and I don’t think I could the handle the opportunity if I did. I probably would’ve melted in the presence of his aura. As long as somebody poured me into a glass so I could live the rest of my life in there, that would’ve been grand in that scenario. Or a fish bowl, so at least I’d have a little food. Anyway, this isn’t going to be an obituary or tribute of sorts, as plenty of people would’ve been doing that already and probably better than I would. And by all accounts, I’m not the biggest Bowie fan on the planet. But what I am is a fan of music, and a person who appreciates David Bowie’s music, the importance it had and his legacy.

Fun fact for you folks: 1 January 2015. I’m on the bill DJing a New Year’s Eve event in Quake Nightclub in Woking. The evening winds down rapidly at around 20 to two in the morning, and I’m the only DJ and person left in the entire nightclub. So to fill those twenty minutes before the place closes, what did I do? Played the greatest hits of the 80’s. I didn’t give a shit and nobody else did, because nobody was there. So I spin a couple of tracks, Blondie, The Clash I seem to remember, then I have one last song to play before I try and find someone to sort the mess out, and instinct only told me to play David Bowie’s Ashes To Ashes. It seemed more poignant that night, as Quake was only open for one more evening, and I had the pleasure of playing the last ever song in there. Well, I did, right until Quake posthumously reopened later that year and I lost that privilege. I’m still rather upset about that.

 

 

For me, Ashes To Ashes is quite possibly one of my favourite songs ever, period. To me, it epitomises what the perfect pop song sounds like, and balances being unforgettable and rapturous, just as well as being melancholic and haunting. I own David Bowie’s Low, which according to NME is a perfect album from beginning to end, and while I don’t agree with the vast majority of things I see or read from NME, they’re spot on with this. People point to Sound And Vision from that album, when in reality, there’s such a strong collection of songs to be found, it’s a pity that it gets overlooked so often, despite being part of the Berlin trilogy. Another fun fact: Joy Division were originally called Warsaw, after Warszawa from this album.

 

 

He has an incredible back catalogue of songs, my parents can certainly attest to that. Although they are no longer together, they are huge Bowie fans, and I know they haven’t taken his departure from this world to the next particularly well. In a sense, I have grown up with Bowie, kinda like a family pet that’s always been there. But now he’s gone, it feels like somebody has hoisted my soul from my body, trampled all over it and returned it to me afterwards. His loss, as a fan of music and a fan of his own work, to me, can only be described as spiritually devastating. This is going to sound very overdramatic, but had David Bowie not made music at all, my parents may have never had that mutual connection through his music. Of course there are many other factors involved here, but had a mutual love of Bowie not been part of that, there could have been a distant chance I may never could’ve been conceived, could never have been born and could never been alive.

Quite frankly, if David Bowie didn’t make music, then there may have been a remote chance I wouldn’t exist.

Like I said, overdramatic, but in a weird way, that’s sort of the thanks I can give to David Bowie. Thanks for helping me to exist. I’m sure there’s a generation of young people such as myself who could say the same thing if they wanted to, but that would largely depend on whether they work on an abstract and undeniably bizarre level of thinking. Or the thought doesn’t freak them out or anything. You know what I mean. The kinda thinking that makes you want to go get an Aladdin Sane thunderbolt tattooed somewhere because his death actually has more importance than you realised. Not on my face obviously, somewhere sensible.

Bowie always thought to challenge others with his art and his music, and that’s one of the reasons why he is revered as such.

Farewell David Bowie. Artist. Chameleon. Pioneer. Genius. Icon.

I’ll leave you with a song I’m not seeing often enough in the Bowie media flurry. This isn’t a reflection of how I feel, but perhaps how others may feel and perhaps how the planet should feel without him.

 

 

If you enjoyed these words or whatever on earth this was supposed to be, then head on over to my social media and tell me so! Or don’t, your move.

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