Album reviews

Lo-Fi-Fnk

Boylife
Moshi Moshi

Meatballs, flat-pack furniture, fey acoustic indie pop and enthusiastic garage punk are all things I’d readily associate with Sweden. Its electro scene is very much foreign territory, but sitting in Ikea with little mounds of meat on my plate and Lo-Fi-Fnk’s new album in my CD player (true story) I felt perfectly placed to explore.
I immediately encounter hand claps, pleasantly pounding waves of standard-issue electronic distortions and many other staples of the overpoweringly mundane dance music favoured by the Radio 1 ‘Dance Anthems’ contingent. Just as I wonder what hell I’ve let myself in for, the vocals kick in, not with the usual overblown intensity and overconfident energy, but with the typically reserved and understated whimsy of all your favourite acoustic guitar stroking Scandinavian peddlers of pop pleasantness. At first this creates a real culture clash, with City and Adore both boasting big beats, seemingly aiming for anthemic reaches, but with their fey vocal delivery consistently hitting a tone that might fail to raise the roof of a wendy house. As the ears acclimatise, there’s a real charm to be found in this combination – particularly on glitchy single Change Channel, where the diminutive vocals even stretch to a “wooh!”
But a few notably naff elements (like the irritatingly repeated “boy… life” jingle) add enough to the mix to significantly detract from its winning qualities.
Generally as understatedly endearing as they are brash and entrancing, Lo-Fi-Fnk’s sound won’t ring true to everyone’s tastes, but it’s definitely one for those hiding out at National Pop League while pining for The Arches.

Rubens

Carnivalesque
Herb

Rubens are a Scottish electronic duo who fully embrace the spirit of inoffensively progressive musical meandering. No bad thing, when they’re willing to explore the impressive number of layers put to use on every effort presented here.
Each track is entrancing, crafting a dizzying musical landscape for the mind to lose itself in. As is commonly the case with such opaque, speechless offerings, the music is a subjective foil to the listener’s imagination, forging a path through whatever interpretation the mind can conjure. But if the track titles are to lend the pieces any tangible subject matter, then the shifting focus is attentive to every facet of mystery, beauty and fantasy to be read into each topic – from the alien and cyclical wonder of the Ferris Wheel to the bleak optimism held in the notion of a Bank Holiday.
There are fascinating worlds to be discovered and unravelled within each composition, without any outstaying their welcome and each continuing just long enough to be partly quantified and interpreted, if not always understood. No carnival ever really enters the picture, but in recreating the carnival-esque spirit of beautiful showmanship and mind-bending creativity, undercut with a grounded escape from reality, the album can’t be judged as anything less than an epic success.

Ben Godwin

Skin And Bone
Karmafarm

To say that Ben Godwin sounds like Tom Waits is something of an understatement. Some of the tracks on Skin And Bone could have been lifted straight from middle-period Waits, and it’s a surprise that he hasn’t sued for the theft of his trademark growl. For those of us who enjoy Waits’s gravely, Armstrong-like rumble, however, that’s no bad thing, and there are certainly enough tunes on here to back it up. Openers ‘Drinking Gasoline’ and ‘New World City’ contain just the right amount of musical vaudeville to support the comparison, although the album’s slower numbers sometimes sound more like a Disney soundtrack than outtakes from Swordfishtrombones.

In fact, it’s the comparison with Waits’s experimental meanderings that undermines Skin And Bone, as there’s little here that lives up to his more anarchic side, and all too often Godwin’s songs end up sounding like barely-disguised showtunes. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, but it does mean that he lacks the edge that could make him great. Once he gets that growl cranked up, though, there’s plenty of bluesy vibe to keep things interesting, and the handful of truly great songs prop up some of the weaker tracks in the middle. Tom Waits-lite, but enjoyable nonetheless.

Asobi Seksu

Citrus
One Little Indian

Whirling, shimmering guitar distortion. Soaring, ethereal vocals. It’s no surprise that New York four-piece Asobi Seksu (which means ‘playful sex’, if you don’t already know) have earned comparisons with My Bloody Valentine, Lush and pretty much every other shoegazing band that has ever studied their own laces. more… “Asobi Seksu”

B.C. Camplight

Blink of a Nihilist
One Little Indian

B.C. Camplight ‘Blink of a Nihilist’ (One Little Indian)
Saddled with the kind of cover that will leave this record languishing on the shelves, the second album from US songwriter Brian Christanzio aka B. C. Camplight deserves far better on it’s sleeve than the tacky and poorly drawn image of a fat, balding, superhero sitting on an bench. more… “B.C. Camplight”

James Yorkston

Roaring The Gospel
Domino

James Yorkston, with or without his Athletes, is a largely hidden national treasure. Over three studio albums he has proved himself a master songwriter, all charm, beautiful melodies, bittersweet lyrics and brilliant, understated instrumentation. Roaring The Gospel is a collection of orphans – b-sides, demos and rejected album tracks recorded over the last five or so years but it sounds like a primer for his work rather than filler. more… “James Yorkston”

Dizzee Rascal

Maths & English
Dirty Stank/XL

British hip hop, always that most marginal of genres, has been throwing up a decent number of excellent album-length recordings in recent years: from Roots Manuva, Skitz, Skinnyman and Shystie through to The Streets, Lady Sovereign, Wiley and Dizzee Rascal, some of whom have emerged from splinter scenes such as UK Garage and Grime to critically acclaimed, mainstream success. more… “Dizzee Rascal”

Tunng

Good Arrows
Full Time Hobby

The third album from Tunng is outstanding. Don’t waste your time reading this review more… “Tunng”