Hot, Sexy, Skinny, Fashionable, Warm, Lovely.
BROOKE
Do
The Math (Soundslike)
If anyone tells you that stars don’t exist in
today’s electronic music scene, shout the name of Brooks right in their ignorant
face. This single - the first to be lifted from the east Midlander’s second LP,
Red Tape - is perfectly singular and stubborn, using crunchy 4/4 percussion, the
barest of hook lines, defiantly harsh frequencies and a low slung, sultry vocal.
They’ll be erecting statutes of him in Derby any day now.
ANIMAL COLLECTIVE
SUNG TONGS (FAT CAT)
Brooklyn's Animal Collective: crikey, they're a mysterious bunch of kooks. If you went for a twilight wander through eerie woodland, you'd hear their distant chanting, peer through an opening in the trees and catch a glimpse of them, huddled together around a crackling fire, serenading glo-bugs, red wolves and delicate unicorns. They'd welcome you and calm your ragged, disorientated soul with their textured, chirruping, psychedelic, folk pop. Then lead you all in peyote-fuelled Appalachian tribal chants as the sun eased itself through the scruffy copse, leaving you to gleefully skitter through the misty morning dew, back into civilisation with a head full of warped happiness. Mmmm, they're magical like that.
BLACK DICE
MILES OF SMILES EP (FATCAT RECORDS)
The Dice are back and this time they're rolling over their own rule book, scribbling over the artwork within, then slashing the canvas they previously laboured over. The organic sounds on Miles are akin to being alone in a field, bugging on 'shrooms whilst watching the dawn break. But then wait, a panic sets in and the drums start to attack, coming at you like a train manned by a psycho intent to kill. Same on track two - they lull you into a false sense of security then, wham, you’re in the middle of a hurricane and no matter how many times you click your heels there ain't no going back. Black Dice challenge and arrest and, when played loud, always score a straight six. You knows it.
!!!
Louden Up Now (Warp)
A tougher take on The Rapture's disco-punk thing, that goes heavier on the guitars and eases off on the studio flourishes and aggravating vocals. Nothing quite touches the scope of last summer's "Me and Giuliani Down By The Schoolyard" single, but the album manages to maintain a great level of abrasive white funk that's "Gang of Four" rather than "Level 42". That story about Mark King insuring his thumb is bollocks, by the way.
WHIRLWIND HEAT
Flamingo Honey (XL)
Do 10 one-minute tracks lined back-to-back an album make? Such tribulations to pontificate over with Whirlwind Heat's latest player. Rolling in at just over 10 minutes, the long single/short album, (depending on who ya chat to), explores realms previously explored by the Detroit trio. Love song lullabies lay next to crazy screechy rants; repetitive chants rudely awake neighbouring instrumentals. Layered and fucked-up, this is a brief ‘welcome back boys’ before album number two drops this January.
Sex and the city, Queer as folk
Simple Life, Cold Case, Friends.