MOG - Joxley's Posts

SUT Hospital Bed Covers

Joxley — Sun, 07 Sep 2008 13:28:24 GMT

I've been meaning to post this track for a while, but only had it on 7"... at last I've tracked it down as an mp3.

Florence and the Machine are the latest darlings of the indie circuit, and as B-side to their first single they tacked on this powerful, stripped back version of Cold War Kid's Hospital Beds, imho, it surpasses the original.

As an extra treat, here is the video to single Kiss With A Fist. Note the expensive special effects.

I'm In Love With A Girl on the Manchester Virgin Megastore Check-Out Desk

Joxley — Sat, 06 Sep 2008 17:48:06 GMT

The Freshies are a rather obscure eighties punk band from Manchester, perhaps more well known for their lead singer's reincarnation as fibre-glass faced comedian Frank Sidebottom. They did however create what should be a timeless classic single amongst music junkies, detailing that infatuation we've all most likely felt towards an alluring music vendor.

As a side note, although the song was originally called I'm in Love With A Girl on the Manchester Virgin Megastore Check-Out Desk but legal action form Richard Branson forced the band to change the title so it referred to a "Certain Manchester Megastore". Furthermore, it remains the longest titled song to ever reach the UK Top 40

Jenny Lewis - The Next Messiah

Joxley — Thu, 04 Sep 2008 18:31:00 GMT

A chance to hear this funky new track from Jenny's new album... and look, I'm not the only person who hides in her closet...

Smoking Hot

Joxley — Wed, 03 Sep 2008 15:18:24 GMT

Death Cigarettes' sound lives up to the band's name. It is addictive, destined for grimy bars, and probably bad for you. Combining lo-fi disco with Karen O like caterwauls they juxtapose subdued filth with wild abandon. They are a band for flashing strobes, for heavy breathing and sweat drenched liaisons. They are a band of passion and extroversion, for falling in lust and flailing like a madman. They may not be to everyone's tast, but I'm hooked to a new 40-a-day habit.

Sorry, for the less than great vid-quality...or just click the red button for a different track...

...Pirates...

Joxley — Mon, 01 Sep 2008 18:54:10 GMT

Someone sent me this clip earlier, and I just can't get the song out of my head. So I thought I'd inflict it on all of you...

Larkin' About

Joxley — Mon, 01 Sep 2008 12:10:11 GMT

Last time I posted about Sky Larkin they didn't have a record deal, they were offering to play people's parties, and superman had camel toe. But that was a year ago.

Now they are signed to Wichita Recordingss (good call, Dale) are opening up for Conor Oberst and Los Campesionos and have a whole new batch of songs for us to enjoy...

Live! Conor Oberst @ Manchester Academy 2

Joxley — Fri, 29 Aug 2008 11:34:00 GMT

It's been a long time since Conor Oberst, known to most as Mr. Bright Eyes, played a show in Manchester. Three and half years, to be precise. And all that time I've been waiting for it. You could probably call me a superfan - I own 152 songs by him, I know the words to four of his albums by heart. I've watched the Saddle Creek DVD and know obscure facts about his life that even he's probably forgotten. So, as you can imagine, I was pretty psyched for his return, this time with his Mystic Valley band. But the excitement was tinged with trepidation - what if this show wasn't worth the all the time I'd waited? Fortunately, I needn't have worried.

The show was opened by Welsh troubadour Euros Childs, a man with a rather eclectic setlist. His style ranged from Undertones-esque pop-punk to "old fashioned country knees-up" music, whilst his lyrics were even more bemusing. To start with, half of them were in Welsh, and many others were just bizarre - "if I had a monkey, he'd shit in your shoe". Still, despite my initial reluctance he turned out to be an impressive opening act, and well worth checking out.

Euros Child

The at last the waiting was over, and Oberst took to the stage. In the past I've heard bad things about his shows - he's been called cantankerous, drunk and unresponsive. However true this may have been, that was not the Conor we got to see. He romped through the upbeat tracks, spitting and sweating, and the slow songs were tender and intense. He rattled and stomped through Don't Want to Die In A Hospital, while his emotive and atmospheric solo version of Milk Thistle provided the standout spine-tingling moment. Get-Well Cards became a shared sing-a-along as did the gloriously fast-paced rendition of Sausalito.

Yet this was not simply the Conor Oberst show, the Mystic Valley band were equally impressive, relishing every note, and even ditching Conor for a cover of Everybody's Talkin'. The band also seemed to draw the notoriously introspective Oberst out of his shell, and jokes abounded - no-one present will ever walk down Market Street without smiling at "Buster the Busker" now...

It seems Oberst has grown into his role as a performer. Where before there may have been insecurity, now there is joy. He was playful with his bandmates, coy with the crowd, and nobody could have doubted his enthusiasm as he retreated from the stage, his shirt see-through with sweat. Returning for the encore he elevated this gig to the legendary. It was at this point where Conor lost all inhibitions, he promised to "play all night" of he was supplied with enough beer, and when the crowd offered to take him up on the offer, he started demanding a disco. Sadly his touring schedule made an all nighter impossible, but he made up for this with something incredible and unexpected. For almost a decade Oberst has been touted as "the new Dylan", and it seems he decided to own this label. At the show's climax he launched into a spectacular, soulful (albeit rather knowing) cover of Corinna, Corrina. With an almost childlike wave, he disappeared backstage, and it was all over. I just hope I don't have to wait another 3 years to see him again...

Mercury Rev - Snowflake Midnight

Joxley — Wed, 27 Aug 2008 20:48:07 GMT

Mogstars: 6/10

It’s hard to get through a Mercury Rev review without coming across certain words – dream-like, whimsical, fanciful… every word that can convey delicate beauty of the band’s meandering psychedelica is almost destined to crop up. After18 years, you’d have thought the writers of the world could have come up with something different to say, but in reality Rev’s sound is so indescribable that nothing else will suffice. That’s not to say their music is not varied – the early chaos of Boces has led to more ethereal pastures – but its underlying qualities remain the same. These psychadelic trips can be both good and bad, happy and disturbing, but the fundamental chemicals stay the same.

To follow up the disappointing The Secret Migration, the band have termed the kaleidoscope towards nature - Snowflake Midnight (released Sept 29^th) is not quite a concept album, but it proclaimed to be as multi-faceted, as symmetrical and as paradoxical as a snowflake. Opening track Snowflake in a Hot World makes this link explicit, as a disembodied voice imparts advice to the unique and delicate flake as shimmering melodies melt into harsh, splintering beats. The chorus soars and collapses into a cataclysm, the ever-changing spirit of the song impossible to grasp. And of course, once you do get hold of it, it dissipates into nothingness.

People are So Unpredictable turns its attention to more human endeavours, however musically it is less accomplished. Initially the pondering synths and simplistic lyrics evoke images of bad MOR, before the bridge takes an unexpected, and unimpressive, Pet Shop Boys-esque direction. The occasional heavy breathing just adds to the confusion, and the clattering climax is sustained for too long for it to be effective. As a piano and feedback combo drag you towards the end of this 6-minute odyssey, it’s hard to tell what you’ve just witnessed, and even harder to tell if you want to figure out what it was. Far from being dreamlike, this track is like struggling to recall a repressed memory.

More coherent, and more pleasurable, sonic treats our found on the slow building Senses of Fire. Rising through the patter of raindrops and cicadas to a canopy of minimalistic layering, you emerge to a breathtaking view across the musical rainforest. The title is endlessly repeated, a reassuring handrail as rushing synths take your breath away. The entire thing comes together in an affirming cacophony, before escaping, darting out of earshot is less than 4 minutes.

In many ways Snowflake Midnight takes a predictable place in Mercury Rev’s canon. It fits nicely in their slide from cult heroes to the mainstream; it’s easy to get into, lacks their early aggression, and would struggle to alienate anybody. Like its predecessor, at times it verges too much towards adult contemporary, and its not hard to imagine it coming through the speakers of your local garden centre. That said, it is not without its moments of brilliance – the highlights are well constructed and give the ephemeral thrill fans would expect from the band. It’s just a shame that there aren’t enough highlights to lift the record above the ordinary.

You want odd? You got it.

Joxley — Fri, 22 Aug 2008 15:27:43 GMT

Ok, here goes my little foray into the world of odd wars... Ladies and gentlemen, may I present, The Best of Communism; Vol 1.

Showcasing everything from the stern marches of the 1920s to the joyful ditties of world revolution, this disk is the ultimate in leftist anthems. Whether you wish to stir yourself towards the barricades with The Internationale or have an evening sing-along with The Happy Pioneer (A climbing squirrel in cheer/ So joyful is the pioneer...) this record has it all.

Highlights include the enigmatically titled The KISV Welds Us Into Unity and the renowned Poljuska. Yet for a red-button treat, I have decided to include We Thank You Comrade Rakosi, an ode to the Hungarian communist party's answer to Stalin.

And if any beats this for oddness, I'll have to get The Hitlerite Songbook out of the loft...

MOG - what happened to the good ads?

Joxley — Thu, 21 Aug 2008 19:54:33 GMT

Remember the days when MOG banner ads were all bra-less American Apparel models? And of course the original crack whore in the bath ad? Well, how come those classy hipster ads have been replaced by this?

Come on guys, surely you can do better than that? Soon you'll be offering us Exxxtension pills and Philippino mail-order brides.

And if you can' provide the AA goods, I will...

Heck, even those Zune ads were better than this :P

Bombay Bicycle Club

Joxley — Wed, 20 Aug 2008 10:32:29 GMT

This summer has been an outstanding one for British cycling. Last month Mark "the fastest man on two wheels in the world" Cavendish became the nation's most successful TDF stage winner, claiming four mad-cap sprint finishes.

Fast forward to yesterday, and he became Britain's least successful Olympic track cyclist - the only one in the team going home without a medal. Still, Chris Hoy won enough for everyone, taking three golds (the best haul by a Brit since 1908) despite the UCI deciding that his favourite events should not be in the Beijing Olympic programme.

It's hardly surprising then that Bombay Bicycle Club have been picking up fans and plaudits in recent months. With a splash of the Pixies and a smattering of Joy Division, their dour grime pop may not be pushing any boundaries, but is well worth a listen...

And hopefully, that song is good enough to excuse my subtle flag-waving...

For people of a certain age...

Joxley — Sun, 17 Aug 2008 18:53:53 GMT

...there seems to be know better way to get a party started than the theme tune to a certain mid-90's TV show...

And the sight of a club full of people singing along is truly astonishing. I'm not sure whether I should be proud or disappointed with my generation...

Requiem pour Un Con

Joxley — Wed, 13 Aug 2008 08:16:44 GMT

Of all the famous graves in Paris, the most clearly venerated is that of Serge Gainsbourg. It is incredible to think that go to such lengths to honour someone they know only through music....

Homage to Catalonia

Joxley — Tue, 12 Aug 2008 13:11:50 GMT

Barcelona is a fucking city. It’s hot, it’s sweaty, it’s filthy. It’s not a city that wants to know your name, it’s not a city that’s going to call you back. It’s a city of pushers, pimps and pickpockets. It’s a city that oozes sexuality, and pulses with energy and passion.

This pulse is most easily measured in the medieval boulevards of La Rambla, an area which is somewhere between a circus, a brothel and party. At first glance it is simply a colourful tourist trap. Street performers, artists and beggars try to separate the foreigners from their cash, the bird sellers and market stalls provide distracting sounds and sights. But the seamier side of Barcelona soon becomes apparent, the dive bars open their darkened doors, alongside the throbbing boutiques of androgynous fashions, all the while a chorus of "hashish, marijuana, cocaine – good price" is whispered from alleyways. At night the rabbit warren comes alive with scantily clad senoritas, some looking for love, others for a customer.

Fortunately this metropolis does offer some breathing space. The forested hill of Montjuic provides a refreshing breathing space. It is hear that Barcelonins come for their Tai Chi, their picnics and their strolls. A calm oasis compared with the constant throb of the city below, this park is the only real way to get away from the hectic crowds.

Above all Barcelona is a city of the young. It is slick, beautiful and hedonistic. That said, it is not short on cultural stimulation for the thinking tourist, just make sure you aren’t too easily shocked. And for once, I would recommend staying strictly to the touristy bits, otherwise your Saturday evening stroll could easily intrude on someone’s Saturday evening smack hit.

The Sights of Barcelona...

The Three Churches:

The Medieval Cathedral

Gaudi's Sagrada Familia - scheduled to be completed in 2026

Camp Nou - where 98,000 worship their heroes.

Gatehouse to Park Guell - This park was originally planned to be home for Barcelona's wealthy and discerning classes, the idea fell flat, and now the the public can admire some of Gaudi's most extravagant creations.

The obligatory shoes shot....

Seven Nights in Paris

Joxley — Tue, 12 Aug 2008 10:46:52 GMT

What is there left to say about Paris? It is a city that has been reflected on and romanticised countless times, immortalised on celluloid, canvass and in print. Yet in truth, it is not one city, but a million – a different town awaits every visitor and inhabitant.

The most obvious division is that between the tourists’ Paris, and the Parisians'. For the former the city is a spectacle – a town made famous by La Tour and Le Tour, where culture and history overwhelm you, the playground of Sartre and Hemingway, where every street yields something (and someone) else to fall in love with. But for the Parisians themselves, it is less of a place to live, than a way to live. As a capital of fashion it demands from them elegance and style, as an artistic centre it demands appreciation and contemplation, as a communal living room it requires friendship and conversation. Nowhere is this division more apparent than the bobo (bohemian bourgeois) neighbourhood of Montmarte – as tourists scurry up the Sacre-Coeur, trying in vain to avoid Senegalese scam merchants and warbling Piaf wannabes, the hippest of Paris’ hip sip wine and chatter – the line between café, front room and street party becoming ever more blurred as the night goes on.

Yet this is just one of many contrasts – the Champs-Elysses sees tramps rubbing shoulders with models, and distinguished fashion houses sitting just a stone’s throw from the "I heart Paris" thong vendors. Elsewhere, the avant-garde lies next to the neo-classical, the thoroughly modern alongside the endearingly ancient, and of course the ever-present Anglo-American corporations have muscled in between the family bistros.

Despite its many faces, Paris remains unmistakable Parisian. It lacks the franticness of other major cities – this is no New York or London where bankers and businessmen brush past on their way to make more money. Indeed there is no discernible rush hour, and on foot and by bike are the preferred modes of transport, with most journeys seeming like they are made for their own sake – a Parisian on a mission is a rare site indeed.

In all, Paris is for the connoisseurs of life – it is a town that nourishes the soul. The inescable artistry and beauty of its streets and galleries is sure to mesmerise, while its cafes and parks provide perfect places to people watch (a sport which is the cities favourite hobby). Its food, its wine and its people provide ample entertainment in a city that loves to sit, watch, and maybe occasionally flirt.

Paris may not be the right city to find the perfect French experience – African and Asian influences have added much to the mix - yet what it can provide is the Parisian experience. And that is a unique, sparking, stimulating and above all seductive experience which will leave you thinking just one thing when you leave – Paris je t’aime, Paris, je retournerai.

The Sights of Paris...

The Louvre - they say it is impossible to see everything in this, the world's largest museum in one day. I saw that as a challenge, but after 5 hours, about 15 miles and some huge blisters later, I realised they were right. The highlight of the extensive collection is by far La Jaconde (The Mona Lisa). I'd always thought that this painting was overrated, but as soon as you catch sight of it, the beauty will send shivers down your spine. Or maybe its just the shock of seeing half a billion dollars worth of painting. Sadly, most people seem to just want to take a snap of themselves in front of it rather than actually admiring it.

Le Baiser et un autre baiser - a better (and more voyeuristic) photographer would have made more of this opportunity. This guy had just proposed in front of Rodin's masterpiece.

Jim Morrison's grave - in some ways, this one of the most obscene sights I have ever seen. Paris' cemeteries have become a "Hollywood Homes" style gallery of famous resting places, luring tourists in to have their pictures taken. Looking at those assembled round this grave, it was hard to imagine many had heard more than three Doors songs. But there was one uplifting sight - a girl around my age who was moved to tears looking at this tomb.

La Tour Eiffel - well, you can hardly go Paris and not see this, can you?

Not Goodbye, But Au Revoir (3rd attempt)

Joxley — Tue, 29 Jul 2008 16:16:50 GMT

Englishman At The Moulin Rouge - Lautrec

Well, my lovely MOGgers, the time has (almost) come for me to head off for a fortnight on my jolly holidays. Tomorrow morning, je prendrai le train (as our Gallic cousins would probably say - although my french is a little rusty) for a week in Paris, before taking the sleeper across the Pyrenees to say hola to Barcelona for 6 days. Then, presuming I can tear myself away from les jolies femmes and seductive senoritas, I'll be back to catch up on all your posts.... Hope you all have some summer fun without me. (But not too much!).

And while I might not be going for a year, I thought this video was apt enough to share....

Ida Maria - Fortress Round My Heart

Joxley — Fri, 25 Jul 2008 18:32:18 GMT

MOGstars: 7 out of 10

Norwegian punk pixie Ida Maria is anything but demure. Her rampant stage shows have already made her famous for self-inflicted concussions and cracked ribs, whilst recent single I Like You So Much Better When You’re Naked is hardly the calling card of a shrinking violet. With her debut album Fortress Round My Heart clocking in at just a touch over half an hour, it is time to see whether her high-octane tracks can set the listener ablaze.

Scanning the record’s early singles, it isn’t hard to see why Maria has become the darling of not-quite-mainstream radio – opener Oh My God is an almost perfect blast of indie pop. The guitars ring and drums clash with an intimidating, and leg shaking, potency, whilst Ida’s frantic vocals are a real triumph of energy over precision. To compare her sound to Blondie would be an obvious, and not wholly incorrect, observation, yet Maria always sounds more threatening as she pushes her voice to its limits, an cigarette fuelled snarl appearing beneath its ragged edges. … When You’re Naked… is another solid gold single – the none to subtle chorus made for drunken sing-a-longs on indie club dancefloors, indeed it is not much of a stretch to think of Maria herself joining in with the post pub caterwauls. Sexual rather than sultry, the track is satisfyingly filthy and serves as a major standout on the album.

The remaining highlight is, however a rather different affair. Stella is a darkly thoughtful piece – musing on God’s relationship with a "43 year old hooker from downtown". As the man upstairs hands of the keys of the world to the working girl in return for a night of love, Maria realises "how much you wanna give away just to feel loved". Sacrilegious it may be, but at the same time it’s reassuringly sardonic and pleasurably witty, not to mention thrillingly frantic.

Yet away from these key singles, the album tends to drop in quality. Morning Light is perfectly acceptable as a second-rate track, but lacks the pure excitement found elsewhere. The desperate longing of Drive Away My Heart, a track that sees a depressed and unloved Ida fall into a destructive relationship, is undermined as her voice struggles to cope – on the more rampant tracks her straining vocals may be charming, but on this more personal song they become a little grating. On the softer ballad Keep Me Warm, Maria at times croaks rather than sings, similarly on the sedate See Me Through there are more notes missed than hit.

Listening to Fortress… it is easy to tell why Ida Maria has become a firm favourite on the live circuit – she hurls herself head first into every song, hoping that passion can overcome her deficiency in technical skill. But the mistakes you accept on the road are less easy to forgive on disk. Although at times her straining voice demonstrates how much she puts into the songs – the standout tracks would be a little more pedestrian without it – it can also ruin them. And so, while the power of this record propels it at breakneck speed, a little more control is needed to prevent Maria from crashing.

I Like You So Much Better When You're Naked

Joxley — Tue, 22 Jul 2008 20:29:52 GMT

Sometimes you just need some funky filth to fill up your day...

Technical Hitch From Beyond the grave...

Joxley — Tue, 22 Jul 2008 16:20:12 GMT

There was hitch with my magnificent MOG-death video to with the privacy settings, so I thought I'd re-psot my demise for you all (and anyone who missed it first time around):

However, I will be re-privating it at some point in the future, to stop me become an international laughing stock/sex symbol.

The Horror...The Horror...

Joxley — Mon, 21 Jul 2008 15:04:14 GMT

This summer, from the studio that brought you "Joxley:Rock Detective" and "Music Police Academy 73: Thessaloniki Thrills" comes the latest war epic:

A young man, trapped in a conflict he doesn't understand, engaging foreign foes on the other side is dispatched by the mysterious Control. His duty is simple - kill or be killed. And while his naive brutality will kill many foes, ultimately he must meet his end, taken out by Scotfree, and his double disks of death.

Ladies and gentlemen, may we present: Apocalypse MOG...

Soundtrack:

If I Survive Hybrid

Cut Miranda Sex Garden

Peel Love Soaked in Blood

Silicone Grown Faces

Feed the Tree Belly

Laughing All the Way to the Plank Elle Milano

Vila Attack Bumblebeez 81

Green Cosmos Deerhoof

Gas Guage Charmparticles

Born to Kill The Damned

Slow Death Dictators

Poison Dart The Bug

Die Young Stay Pretty Blondie

Fool's Paradise Donna Summer

Under Your Skin Luscious Jackson

Coma Girl Joe Strummer

Sex Bomb Lords of Acid

Ida Red Bob Wills and the Texas Playboys

Madonna T. Rex

Bleeding Calico Red Head

Speak Now or Forever Hold Your Peace Terry Reid

Rest in Peace Nina

Supersnatch Frank Miller

Soviet Snow Shona Laing

Dance of Death Fucked Up

Fatal Bleeding Hybrid

Dance Dance Dance Casualeers

Boogaloo Down Broadway Fantastic Johnny C

You Can't Sit Down (Parts 1 & 2) Phil Upchurch Combo

The Boogaloo Party The Flamingos

Ain't Nothing But a Houseparty Showstoppers

Soul Sauce Timebox

Land of 1000 Dances Wilson Pickett

Simon's Cat

Joxley — Wed, 16 Jul 2008 13:24:39 GMT

Simon's Cat is a series of humourous animations by London based cartoon artist Simon Tofield, and are guaranteed to make both cat lovers and cat haters smile with their wry observations of feline habits.

A hungry cat resorts to increasingly desperate measures to get indoors.

A hungry cat resorts to increasingly desperate measures to wake its sleeping owner.

A hungry cat resorts to increasingly desperate measures to gain its owner's attention.

The Man With The Golden MOG...

Joxley — Mon, 14 Jul 2008 20:39:38 GMT

Cold, clean and ruthlessly efficient...It's a shame the post office is only one of those things, but still, one MOGger has been dispatched, with a side order of British charm.

Under the Covers with Somebody to Love

Joxley — Sun, 13 Jul 2008 19:15:17 GMT

Somebody To Love, a track originally by Jefferson Airplane started its life as one of the gems of classic rock, perhaps best shown by this earlier morning Woodstock footage -

Before being re-interpreted as a wonderful peace of punk-

And then finally finding itself remixed and rejigged for the body flashing dance generation:

Which do you prefer?

(And of course Jefferson Airplane themselves went through a few transformations, ultimately ending up as this:

Martha Wainwright - I Know You're Married But I've Got Feelings Too

Joxley — Sat, 12 Jul 2008 19:51:53 GMT

MOGStars: 8 out of 10

It’s hard to believe that latest release I Know You’re Married But I've Feelings Too is only Martha Wainwright’s second full album – collaborations with artists ranging from brother Rufus to Snow Patrol, the Canadian-American songstress has firmly established herself with the music scene. And securing assistance on this record from (amongst others) Pete Townshend and Donald Fagen, this record is unlikely to loose her that place.

Although lacking the punch of titles like Bloody Muthafucking Asshole, this wry record is still filled with the passion found in the first. Opening track Bleeding Over You combines an almost sedentary and rolling country feel with the bitter anguish of unrequited love, its chorus coming from the album’s title. The track flows gently with the occasional guitar pluck and fluttering woodwind, but there is no mistaking the powerful current that flows underneath it.

The album goes from the sublime to the ridiculous however with the soccer mom radio friendly You Cheated Me. Unmistakably the product of someone raised in the eighties, it is a song which seems to demand bad dance moves and even worse hair. Yet like much of the eighties’ pop culture, somehow, on some bizarre level, it works, and you’ll soon find yourself singing along with glee. Less successful an experiment, however, is the bluesy pop of Comin’ Tonight where Wainwright’s vocal acrobatics become a little too much to bear.

In Jesus and Mary, however, Wainwright is able to control her potent vocal skill with consummate skill – her lyrics are delivered with staccato accuracy over minimalist beats, whilst the chorus sees her stretch out the halting vowels as the record soars and swoops. Also impressive is the despairing Hearts Club Band in which she tames the histrionics and utilises them for full effect, rather than being carried away by them.

Wainwright also maintains the ability to intrigue, as well as entertain, through the album. The Kate Bush-esque So Many Friends is an unexpected as the Nick Cave echoing In The Middle of The Night, the latter’s brooding melancholy more spiteful than anything else on the album, whilst the former is a longingful gem. Yet the real surprise comes in the unexpected cover of See Emily Play, far more controlled than Syd Barrett ever intended, the psychadelica is subdued and replaced with a beguiling sweetness.

It is certain the star of this record is Wainwright’s vocals, the lynchpin than holds down some of the more fanciful experiments, and while her talent is occasionally tempestuous, she uses it well. I Know You're Married… sees her break away from simply being another of the Wainwright McGarrigle clan – father-baiting is kept to a single slight sometimes "I feel like my dad for leaving her sad and alone in this big house", yet she still creates a highly personal album. With few exeptions both content and delivery are impressive, and so while it may not be in-family fighting that makes this album stand out, it still showcases her pedigree.

Video for You Cheated Me here (explicit- contains brief scenes of a sexual nature)

Jox's Hot Rox: The Halfway 10

Joxley — Tue, 08 Jul 2008 14:53:13 GMT

You now the drill by now, my top ten of this half year - check them out, and you might get to be half as cool as me :P

To add your )obviously inferior) choices to the list - go here.

10. Albert Hammond jr. - Como Te Llama

Throughout ¿Cómo Te Llama? Hammond is able to take risks which the bands sounds wouldn’t allow – trying his hand at diverse styles that wouldn’t sit all that comfortably alongside First Impressions of Earth. On the whole these are risks that pay off, the familiar intertwined with the experimental, by an obviously talented musician.

9. Emily Jane White - Dark Undercoat

This record maintains an otherworldly feel, far from our busy metropolises, buried in the midst of fields and farms. But even the most urban of city slickers can head off in their sonic SUV and find a little beauty and self-understanding here.

8. The Raconteurs - Consolers of the Lonely

Barefaced rock’n’roll, biting blues and swaggering country make a potent cocktail, but anyone looking for a record with a kick should pour themselves a bourbon and put this on the old gramophone.

7. Nick Cave and the Badseeds - Dig, Lazarus, Dig!!!

As ever the Bad Seeds have crafted a record that is almost theatrical – every song embodies a different scene, with Cave himself ranging from a raging Macbeth to a despondent Hamlet (Jesus of The Moon even casts him as an unfamiliar romantic lead). The outcome is a powerful play, that captures the band at the most unhinged and beautiful, and treats the audience to shock and stimulation.

6. The Long Blondes - Couples

By stepping away from their comfort zone, The Long Blondes have avoided the often precipitous sophomore slump – their sound has been modified but their spirit remains the same. And that spirit is one of glamour and grit juxtaposed, and it has resulted in an album just as suited to the dingy discos and regretful mornings after as the illicit affairs it describes are.

5. These New Puritans - Beat Pyramid

Unafraid to push boundaries, their musical bravery at times becomes foolhardy, but an ever-present pop sensibility serves to rein this in, and also stops artistic delusions from turning this record into latter-day prog-rock. The record may not appeal to everyone, but as the same sultry voice returns in the final track to finish (or rather begin) what she started, we can’t help but be thankful for a band that tries to step out of the comfort zone a little.

4. Los Campesinos! - Hold on Now Youngster

This is more than high speed chords and slogan shouting fun, a razor sharp wit and lyrical panache constantly trying to keep up with everything. Definitely a party record, but with a serious side it for the home stereo. Just don’t play it around people with a history of heart problems.

3. The Last Shadow Puppets - The Age of The Understatement

The album exudes sixties influences, but instead of the Terrence Rattigan and Albert Finney grit of AM’s records, it is one of Orson Welles and Scott Walker. With this record Turner has in some ways come out of the closet, no longer the working class Northern lad making noise, he shows himself as a musician with a sense of artistry, class and history – some may denounce this record as "poncey", but for the true music fan it is an impressive side to his skill.

2. Lykke Li - Youth Novels

The album is adept at evoking imagery – the Li herself appears both vulnerable and strong "I like the way tears suit my face" a perfect example of this of Let it Fall, whilst many songs easily portray the songstress’s sparse home country. For all its beauty, many of those enticed by a listen to Little Bit may find this album rather hard to stomach, but for those with the correct palate, this album will stimulate senses and continue to seduce.

1. Laura Marling - Alas, I Cannot Swim

The music is perfectly matched, echoing the youth of her voice it masks the harshness of the lyrics with a softness and sweetness that never verges on the saccharine, lightening with out trivialising the darkness. As a debut this record is impressive, for an eighteen year old it is even more so. To see such complexity in any artist is refreshing, in her it is almost sickening. She may seem a little uncomfortable before the crowd, but when she lets her songs do the talking Laura Marling will silence any critic. In a world where critics label every truculent male troubadour the new Dylan, we may just have met the new Mitchell.

So, Um, America... (Free from the Burden Day!)

Joxley — Fri, 04 Jul 2008 21:50:18 GMT

Hey they...look I know its been a long time, and I know we had some good times, and I know we both kinda regret it had to end that way, but I think we still both need a bit more closure. I tried calling, but you never seemed to pick up... so here goes:

First of all, its been getting to me a bit how you can't seem to let go of me. Sure it was kinda sweet how you kept trying to solve my problems after we broke up... those little incidents with Germany, you even lent me a bit of cash. But to be honest, I could have handled those things on my own, and I really don't appreciate how you keep dragging me into your fights, you know, this thing with Iraq, it's your problem, and I really don't like been pulled in like this. Ok, when we were together it was my job to defend you, but not anymore.

Also, you still haven't returned some of the stuff I left at your place, and its starting to bug me. Most of it you can keep- baseball's kinda like cricket for retards, so I don't want it back, and you can still use the world wide web and jet engine I created. But I really want the whole language thing back. I mean, no offence, but you really dont' know how to take care of it, and its getting damaged - what's with all these zs all over the place? And that letter is a "zed" not a "zee" you stupid bitch!

Look, I know this split hasn't been easy on either of us, so can we just let it all go - I'm hanging with Europe now, maybe you should find someone new. And have you looked how fat you've got recently? Sorry sorry sorry, I shouldn't make these things personal... so, just hand me back my stuff, and, let's agree to go our separate ways.

Yours

Britain

SUTC with... Lykke Li

Joxley — Sun, 29 Jun 2008 13:25:47 GMT

The charming scandanavian songstress has already won many fans on these MOG pages, but just in case you haven't been seduced just yet, here she is covering A Tribe Called Quest. An unusual choice of song for her, but one she really gets to grips with well... Can she kick it? Yes she can!

2

Joxley — Sun, 22 Jun 2008 13:04:36 GMT

Two years ago today, idly traversing the internet, I happened to come across a new and unusual site. Previously I'd assumed that all social-networking sites were populated with perverts and weirdos. This new one, this so-called MOG, hardly challenged this opinion (I mean look at you guys!), but there was something different. These people were perverts and weirdos who loved music, who had incredible opinions and tastes and just wanted to share their favourite bands.

Ultimately I found my place amongst this bizarre community, and have enjoyed these years more than I could ever have imagined. The perverts and weirdos of MOG now have a place in my heart, some of you have very special places indeed. I spoke last year of how it is thanks to you guys that I have fallen in love with writing, and very little has changed on that front. But that is just one thing I have gained from these pages - I have been introduced to more bands than I can remember. I'd like to think I've managed to introduce you all to a fair few too - whether it be Laura Marling, George Pringle or even and especially Basshunter. Anyway, the payola cheques keep arriving, so I'm obviously doing something right ;) As well as that I hope I've kept you as entertained, amused and intrigued as you have me, and I thank everyone who leaves those embarrassingly complementary comments on my album reviews.

Yet there are a lot of equally special people who will not read this message, as with any community the faces have shifted. Some have sadly passed away, and our collective mourning for those is one of my most enduring, although not the happiest memories of MOG. Some have gone on to better things, too busy to keep up with our online community, others have just faded away without an explanation. Many people - Shawn, Brad, Killa, Putty, AJ... who made this community so vibrant in the first few months are no longer around, and I'm sure I speak for all the old hands when I say they won't be forgotten. Equally however, wonderful new people have continued to join this site. On this MOGiversary I will be thinking of moggers both past and present.

Because of this site and the odd people that inhabit it, I have made friends around the world. I've met some of you in person, and had an amazing time, hopefully I'll be able to see even more of you in future. Hopefully we will continue to introduced each other to new music, and amazing new peeps will continue to arrive. So thank you all for a great two years, because truly, the music sounds better with you...

(I apologise for using such a trashy track)

The Truth About Anna (again)

Joxley — Wed, 18 Jun 2008 19:29:16 GMT

Many of you Moggers will remember my now award nominated post, about how Anna was, and is, actually a bot. But I most apologise sincerely for not following up every available line of enquiry, until now.

You see it turns out she is not just a bot:

"In the Dutch Top 40 in the Netherlands, a spoof of the song has peaked at #6 in weeks 38 and 39 of 2006. It is also called "Boten Anna" and it is by De Gebroeders Ko, who also made other Dutch versions of known songs like "Dragostea din Tei". Although they knew the original song wasn't about a boat, they translated it as if it were (one called Anna). "Boten" is the plural form of "boat" in Dutch. In November another spoof of the song, again by De Gebroeders Ko, charted the Dutch Top 40. In week 47 the song called "Sinterklaas Boot (Boten Anna)" charted in the Dutch Top 40 and peaked at #7. This version of "Boten Anna" is about the boat of Sinterklaas. An Israeli band called Chovevei Tzion (חובבי ציון) spoofed "Boten Anna" with their popular single, "Rotze Banot" (רוצה בנות, meaning "I Want Girls"), which was extensively spoofed in turn.^[2] Also the polish group Cliver made a version called "Za oknem deszcz" (engl. "Behind the window is the rain"). A German version of the song was released by Kid Bob, titled 'Die Dicke Anna' (The Fat Anna). The lyrics to this version are about a fat girl sitting in a boat. In Denmark the song was later made as a parody. The song was called "Hoen Anna" which means "Anna the whore". The Swedish lyrics are misheard and in that way it becomes Danish."

So, may I present the full evidence for the prosecution:

Sinterklas Boten (complete with racially offensive backing dancers)

Die Dicke Anna

Anna the Whore

Za oknem deszcz

Rotze Banot

And most incriminating of all Anna the Boat:

A reward of 10,000 songs has been posted for the capture of this fugitive, dead, alive sunk or deprogrammed.

There is a music god...

Joxley — Wed, 18 Jun 2008 12:48:43 GMT

Now, those of you who've been keeping track of my MOG since the beginning will know there is one thing that has irked me all this time. A massive Bright Eyes fan, I have constantly bemoaned Conor Oberst's reluctance to play a show anywhere near me.

But no more.

As Sturgell showed on his post, Oberst has launched a massive tour for his new solo album, and in that long list of dates is this:

08/28 - Manchester, Academy 2

Can I get a hell yeah, people?

(Also, seeing as it took him so long to get here, would it be ok of me to force him to play his entire back catalogue?)

Albert Hammond Jr. - Como Te Llama?

Joxley — Tue, 17 Jun 2008 20:00:37 GMT

MOGstars: 7 out of 10

If The Strokes were heralded from the start as the sound of modern NYC, then guitarist Albert Hammond jr.’s (not to be confused with his Gibraltar born father) was an altogether more upstate affair. Rejecting some of the grit and bite of the garage rock mother-band, Yours To Keep was more sedate, at times even whimsical, yet twinned with an unmistakable bite. Hammond now returns to similar territory with the release of his second solo record, ¿Cómo Te Llama?.

From the outset Hammonds pedigree is evident, the rapid powerchords that lead into soaring blues are hardly that radical of a departure from his band’s sound, however the pace is a lot less furious than their stand out hits. In My Room is not without ringing guitars or a percussive stomp, yet just before things get too predictable Hammond’s vocals add a baroque edge to the chorus that makes it sound like Arcade Fire’s faux-hawk sporting brother.

As the album progresses, Hammond’s innovation becomes more evident. Although the inevitable ties to The Strokes’ sound make his departures more like variations on a theme, they are still impressive. The opening of GFC’s psychedelic noodling is reminiscent of John Frusciante, yet this is characteristically fused with post-punk, rather than Chilis-esque funk. The result brings to mind as sunrise over the Bay as much as it does sunset over the Hudson. Equally crepuscular is the slowburning Victory in Monterey, a track that slides with The Strokes’ signature slickness –unassuming yet seductive.

Borrowed Time and G Up come to represent the biggest musical departure from Hammond’s bandmates – each flies enthusiastically into an unexpected reggae beat. Once again Hammond’s musical skill is sufficient to make these tracks at least competent, although the latter is marred by a bizarre sounding accent. An even more successful googly is bowled with instrumental track Spooky Couch. Although unfortunately titled, this inconspicuous track showcases a talent stripped of all the showmanship of The Strokes, and is itself quietly beautiful. To some ears more suited to Last Nite’s thrust, it may sound like lift music – but it should be destined for NYC’s coolest lifts.

Perhaps it is unfair that Hammond will be viewed as "the guy from The Strokes", a label that will in some way undermine the talent shown on this album. Yet this is a heritage he cannot escape from – a good part of this album is shaped by the same influences that have driven the five pieces records. But this is not simply an interim Strokes album, or a collection of rejected song ideas. Throughout ¿Cómo Te Llama? Hammond is able to take risks which the bands sounds wouldn’t allow – trying his hand at diverse styles that wouldn’t sit all that comfortably alongside First Impressions of Earth. On the whole these are risks that pay off, the familiar intertwined with the experimental, by an obviously talented musician. But this is a record that falls down in one key area. Unlike its predecessor, and indeed unlike any Strokes album, ¿Cómo Te Llama? fails to create any truly memorable singles, with most tracks, however interesting not lasting long in the memory. And so although a charming album, Hammond’s second release falls short of true greatness.

SUTC w/YYY

Joxley — Sun, 15 Jun 2008 12:35:19 GMT

The Yeah Yeah Yeahs Maps is a triumph of a visceral and brutalistic love song, exploding with raw emotion, so seeing it reinterpreted by baroque indie anthem makers Arcade Fire, is an interesting combination:

even more intriguing, however, is the German techno cover...

Lykke Li - Youth Novels

Joxley — Wed, 11 Jun 2008 18:58:58 GMT

MOGstars: 9 out of 10

The term "Scandinavian invasion" conjures up images of hirsute men in horned helmets, setting off in their longboats to rape and pillage – yet the latest crop of north European invaders are very different from their Viking forbears. From the feisty Ida Maria to the twee Those Dancing Days, the axe wielding berserkers have given way to indie pop temptresses. Yet it is the demure Lykke Li that has formed the vanguard of this assault, with her debut EP Little Bit gaining press and penetration on both sides of the Atlantic, now followed by album Youth Novels which aims to capitalise on this success, developing and refining this first taste which so whet the world’s appetite.

Established single Little Bit is the obvious standout track on the album, its simplistic beat forming the perfect frame for the Swede’s innocent and sweet vocals, which belie a cunning and knowing lyrical wit. "And for you I keep my legs apart/and forget about my tainted heart" has already been celebrated as a great love line, and the coy chorus is likely destined for a dozen teen dramas. Yet for all the hype, the track retains its beauty – it is light and unassuming, but imbued with delicate emotion. Yet as an introduction to Lykke Li, it can be seen as slightly deceitful.

Elsewhere on the album Li leaves behind this image of pop chanteuse, exposing her forte as a sonic artist. Opening track Melodies&Desires is a sweeping conceptual piece rising slowly like a dancer, accompanied by spoken word instructions – "Love is the harmony/Desire is the key/Love is a symphony/Now play it with me" serves as an unsettling chorus and a mission statement for the record. The result is vaguely reminiscent of Bright Eyes’ opening tracks and could well perturb those lured in by Little Bit. Yet it is the artistic flair that echoes through the album. All the tracks are stripped down to a minimalist core, beats and blips providing ample background to Li’s wispy vocals – This Trumpet in My Head boasts less than twenty words in the lyrics it drapes over a gently plucked guitar in an effect reminiscent of Rio en Medio, although still contains the subdued gem of "I shot you with my silence". Just as intoxicating is the jarred Complaints Department, which layers unadorned electronica beneath repetitive lyrics telling of failing love. All these tracks indicate an artist above the normal pop plane, and provide scintillating, and unmistakably Scandinavian, soundscapes.

However this is not to say that the rest of the album is devoid of pop sensibilities. Dance Dance Dance is a enchanting piece combining the arty pull with the push of a traditional verse/chorus/verse in a way which lends it, rather aptly, to the dancefloor, whilst the futuristic I’m Good, I’m Gone’s ascending melody and staccato phrasing combine with a radio friendly chorus into a triumph of indie-pop majesty. Yet it is the sorrowful Scandinavian soul of Everybody But Me which is the most accessible track on the album. A scent of the Sixties makes it similar to Lucky Soul, and its tale of a clubland wallflower bites with a modern panache – "Should I go home sober/Or should I buy me another glass of wine and forget about time?" skilfully undercuts Li’s innocent expression, as does her excellent description of the lounging lotharios that emerges in the second verse. The result is a beguiling torch song that cannot help but permeate your heart.

Ultimately, Youth Novels is an album pulling in two directions, on the one hand artistic experimentation shines through via the insubstantial soundscapes that pass through the records periphery, on the other the infective pop of what will prove to be outstanding singles. Yet it is the blend of these two flavours that really make the album. Li’s tender voice and lyrical skill lend themselves to both quests, as does the uncomplicated musical arrangement. The album is adept at evoking imagery – the Li herself appears both vulnerable and strong "I like the way tears suit my face" a perfect example of this of Let it Fall, whilst many songs easily portray the songstress’s sparse home country. For all its beauty, many of those enticed by a listen to Little Bit may find this album rather hard to stomach, but for those with the correct palate, this album will stimulate senses and continue to seduce.

SUTC: Wonderwall

Joxley — Sun, 08 Jun 2008 18:02:47 GMT

Now, my distaste for Oasis is well documented on these hallowed pages... so it is a real testament to Ryan Adams' talent that he can make me fall in love with this song...

Electro-funking it up

Joxley — Fri, 06 Jun 2008 19:30:02 GMT

The best thing to come out of Sao Paulo since gang violence and shanty towns, Cansei de Ser Sexy, are back with a brand spanking new track, available here

And while this track is not as amusing as when they band were Brazilian waxing lyrical about Meeting Paris Hilton, it is certain to get you booty shaking in a totally seedy way.

And speaking of booties, it wouldn't be a FF post without a decent pic, would it?

Those Dancing Days

Joxley — Thu, 05 Jun 2008 17:55:29 GMT

Moggers and MOGgettes, it is once again time to don your twee dancing shoes and meet the latest charming lasses to come from Sweden with promises of aural pleasure.

Those Dancing Days emerged in the Stockholm scene in the winter of 2007 with a sound that throws together a sixties pop shuffle, a Northern Soul swing and an indie-pop slide into a soufflé of seductive sounds. Enjoy.

The Conspiracy Continues...

Joxley — Mon, 02 Jun 2008 08:04:23 GMT

So, tonight Lyyke Li displays her loyalty to the vast music industry cabal that ensure that bands I want to see come and play the smallest, most intimate, most raw venues in my local area...but only when I have exams. Bastards.

Just think, I could be standing two feet away from this lovely...

Under the covers with Joe and Lou..

Joxley — Sun, 01 Jun 2008 11:17:23 GMT

The Long Blondes - Couples

Joxley — Thu, 29 May 2008 21:05:24 GMT

MOGstars 8 out of 10

Emerging at the end of 2006 with debut album Someone to Drive You Home, The Long Blondes were one of the first of a slew of bands to emerge from the UK with a heavily retro-tinged sound. The record exploded with sixties styled guitar pop that combined youthful abandon with a wry and knowing sense of humour. 18 months later and things have changed a fair bit for the band – two inter-group couples have broken up and lead singer Kate Jackson has climbed into the NME’s Top Ten of Cool. Stylistically, the band have under gone a renovation too, the exuberance has receded and been replaced with pop-nihilism. Yet all the familiar standards still remain and the tales of urban heartbreak and infidelity wittily expressed with a sly smile, even if the jaded cynicism is more pointed.

Opening track Century draws has its roots not in sixties chic familiar to the first album, but rather the electronica of the early eighties. The synths and falsetto immediately cause Donna Summer to spring to mind, however this new wave direction is coloured with a dystopian slide into a third world war. At times scintillatingly jarring but also haunting, this is an unexpected direction for the band, but as Jackson ponders nuclear oblivion the result is disarming yet engaging.

Equally unexpected but also intoxicating is subdued revenge song Too Clever By Half. In an album dominated by infidelity, it is surprising to see the victim portrayed, however Jackson’s haunting reproach sounds more like a lover dusting the prints of the revolver than one dropping a bunny in hot water. “As you were making plans/I was going with her man” she croons coyly over an almost non-existent backing – a scene of revenge just waiting to be transformed into black and white celluloid.

Just as cinematic is Round The Hairpin, a track where minimalist impulses have carried the band away. There is little music to speak of, save the hum of a distorted amp and an occasion drum beat rearing its head. The lyrics too are about as stripped back as you can get, a single verse repeated sombrely. It is easy to visualise the implied calamity, the lack of detail adding a charm to the song, while the ambiguity pulls at the imagination. Beguiling and beautiful, this unexpected turn fortunately doesn’t end up like the car crash it speaks about.

Couples represents a reassuring return to form for The Long Blondes second outing. It is a record that takes risks, largely departing from the sound that dominated their debut into unmapped territory, and whilst some risks don’t pay off (the B-movie snippets framing some songs are a little ill-advised) most are rewarding. That said, the album is unmistakably a Long Blondes record, the cynical love songs fitting nicely alongside the more disenchanted moments of Someone to Drive You Home; “Close your eyes and think of Erin O’Connor/ And I’ll Think of Lilly Cole/ And that your someone else as well” leaves a particularly bitter sting; present as ever is the ready wit of chief lyricist Dorian Cox, with lines and story telling that puts the listener in mind of Sheffield’s most famous art-rocker, Jarvis Cocker. Clearly channelling Pulp, not to mention South Yorkshire’s other electronic stars The Human League, the band have crafted an irresistible blend of worldly heartbreak and youthful wistfulness. At times Jackson plays the street-wise and glamorous vixen, others (especially I Liked The Boys) she becomes the gin-soaked older woman longing for lost youth – both scenarios are equally pleasing to the ear. By stepping away from their comfort zone, The Long Blondes have avoided the often precipitous sophomore slump – their sound has been modified but their spirit remains the same. And that spirit is one of glamour and grit juxtaposed, and it has resulted in an album just as suited to the dingy discos and regretful mornings after as the illicit affairs it describes are.

The Pigeon Detectives - Emergency

Joxley — Mon, 26 May 2008 19:23:24 GMT

MOGstars: 7 out of 10

If someone were to draw a map of the route to musical success, the second album would surely be marked “here be dragons.” Countless bands have lost their way in the stormy seas between the scilla and charybdis of keeping their sound fresh but not departing too far. The wreckage of the Stone Roses’ Second Coming still pokes above the surface, even if more recent travellers such as Arctic Monkeys managed to steer their way through to superstardom. Almost one year to the day after the release of debut album Wait For Me, Leeds based indie-rockers The Pigeon Detectives have launched themselves headlong in to this treacherous stretch with follow-up release Emergency.

Having made their name with the dancefloor friendly staccato beats and shouted choruses of Wait for Me and I Found Out, there it is no shock to see veteran post-punk producer Stephen Street (Blur, The Kaiser Chiefs) taking the controls for this journey. Equally unsurprising is the slowly ascending bassline of lead single This Is An Emergency, which slowly burns into a flourish of clashing guitars. However by previous standards, this is a rather lacklustre blast of power punk. The chorus is far clumsier than former outings, and the result is a rather less enthusiastic stomp which cruises rather than explodes into the rest of the album.

Slightly more impressive is the vitriol infused I’ll Be Waiting. A thumping song of hate that seems to stick two fingers up at everyone around, the crash of guitars echoes pub car park punch-ups, whilst chorus “I’ll be waiting for you/when you want to go” is the most melodic way to start a fight I’ve heard for a while. Lyrically the song stands up with The Detectives’ finest moments, with concise and perfectly timed blasts of ire are as suited for dancing as they are for fighting.

I’m A Liar serves as an interesting alteration to the tried formula. Although the frantic strum and drum ideal is sufficiently present to inspire cathartic limb flailing in indie clubs across the country, the controlled build-up makes this a more measured track. “Although I don’t know your name/I could love you just the same/For tonight”, provides a flash of cynical witticism that elevates this above the usual unrequited and unwelcome young love of the Detectives’ previous tracks.

Yet this song is ultimately one of too few stand out songs on the album. As The Pigeon Detectives attempt to steer their way through the perils of the second album, they veer too close to the classic errors. Several tunes seem like they just missed inclusion on the debut, and have been rescued from the cutting room floor to ensure a speedy release - Don’t You Want to Find Out feels like I Found Out’s more conservative cousin, and proves to be one of several forgettable moments that spoil the album. As the rudder drifts towards blandness, the band undermine the good work they have done at steering this album towards a more adult position - Keep On Your Dress is a mature moment that bridges the gap between a thoughtful future and the frantic E-number filled energy of the first record, a gap vaulted by the sincere acoustic track Nothing to Do With You. However attempts to do the same thing with a secret track on the end of Everybody Wants Me result in what sounds like a bizarre percolation of King of The Road.

In the end, Emergency is not a shipwreck caught in the rapids of the sophomore slump, but nor is it a smooth crossing towards less troubled times. It is an album that shows that The Pigeon Detectives can do more than shout slogans for vodka and Red Bull fuelled students to dance to, however it fails to capture the pure energy of their debut. Just as disappointing however, is the band’s reticence to make a full leap into the unknown. On the tracks where they revel in departing from the standard formula the result is impressive, yet elsewhere they just flounder in second rate versions of their own songs. Thus, while this album does not send the band to the depths of obscurity, it remains to be seen how they will weather future storms.

So...

Joxley — Sun, 25 May 2008 15:07:11 GMT

..apparently I dance like I'm "on smack". Not sure whether that is a good thing or a bad thing really...

Let's Fuck

Joxley — Fri, 23 May 2008 18:44:23 GMT

A subtle and family friendly welcome back to all striking moggers, courtesy of the still unsigned Sexual Hot Bitches...

The Futureheads - This is Not The World

Joxley — Tue, 20 May 2008 19:19:39 GMT

MOGStars 6 out of 10

Dropped by 679 Recordings after sophomore effort News and Tributes failed to live up to the success of their homonymous debut, The Futureheads are in many ways rolling the dice with self-released This is Not The World. A successful statement of survival could see the band powered back into the mainstream, a lacklustre effort could send the Sunderland quartet sent the way of the town’s steel mills.

It’s clear from the outset that the band seem to think offence is the best defence. Gone are the charming pop songs, harmonies and of course infamous Kate Bush covers – Beginning of the Twist is a frantic burst of post punk, aggressive drum beats, swirling guitars and staccato lyrics. Perhaps intended as a sonic broadside to the label that shunned them, the song has all the chaos of a shed dwelling inventor, however the result seems like Maximo Park with a subtle Mackam/Geordie accent switch. As a single it is no doubt radio friendly, but has little long term attraction.

Equally experimental is bizarre love song Radio Heart – an amorous tale between a chat-line caller and a girl with (you guessed it) a radio for a heart. Somewhat aping the Jam, the guitars here are cutting, and the beat certain to secure a spin at every indie night across the country. Yet the song falls down in its construction – the chorus is almost indistinguishable, and words feel shoehorned, rather than slipped into the lyrics. Sad to say, even at less than three minutes long, the song begins drag as the execution fails to live up to the intriguing presence.

Equally unimpressive is title-track This is Not the World, a lacklustre attempt of state of the nation style realism. Any seriousness in the lyrics is undermined by the cringeworthy “everybody wears their frown upside down” which confuses the listener – the dour singing style and machine gun power chords allude to misery, whilst this red herring just casts bemusement.

Ultimately as a last salvo, this record fails The Futurehead’s defences. Pillaging their way though British musical history the forget to include a sound of their own, and while this jack of all trades approach produces some memorable moments – the snarling punk of Sale of The Century serving as a true highlight – and the record does not fall short of single opportunities. Yet as a whole it is disappointing, few tracks stick their head above the parapet, and those that do serve only as momentary distractions. Squandering the creative freedom having your own label can bring, The Futureheads have missed what could be their last chance to hone their own sound. Although intriguing in parts, This is Not the World fails to carry quality through – the music is often unadventurous, and the lyrics cumbersome. At best this record will sustain The Futureheads’ fanbase enough for a fourth record, however that will be more of a sign of their loyalty than the albums quality.

A Kiss with a Fist Is Better Than None

Joxley — Mon, 05 May 2008 21:43:37 GMT

Feisty Florence and The Machine is the latest retro inspired songstress to emerge from the UK indie scene. This unsigned maiden sings the blues with a brutal panache and crafts sultry songs that verge from the frenetic to the unspeakable delicate. Highlights on her myspace page include the rampant energy of _Kiss with a Fist_ and the stripped back cover of Cold War Kids _Hospital Beds_. Already chums with Lightspeed Champion and Kate Nash, I wouldn't be surprised if she exploded in the next few months.

Good Day/Bad Day

Joxley — Sun, 27 Apr 2008 22:02:08 GMT

Winning the semi-final of the National Inter-school General Knowledge Quiz on the last question: amazing.

Losing the final in the same manner: gutting.

My face as I struggled to put an answer to "Which band wrote the single I Spy from the album Different Class?" into words: Priceless.