The first half of my year was split between
cozying up to classics and mining for
diamonds in Japan. Recent weeks, however, have seen a slew of new (or
soon-to-be-) releases that have renewed if not my
faith then at least my interest in contemporary music. I'll spare my
doctoral thesis on
what's wrong with modern music for the near future. In the meantime, here's a few of my favourite new tunes...
The Fall -
Beatle Bones 'N' Smokin' StonesStrictly speaking, this isn't a new release, but it's the first time all
twenty-four Peel sessions by the Fall have been available in
one convenient package. I'm not trying to steal any thunder from the splendid Brit blog
Spoilt Victorian Child by following their recent
Fall post with my own. I only recently received the boxset for my birthday and it's damn near shut out everything else from my stereo. As brilliant and mercurial and
"always different, always the same" as the band itself, the
Complete Peel Sessions is, as critics the world over have hollered, THE definite Fall document.
It comes as no surprise that the first decade of
Mark E. Smith & Co is nigh immaculate. The band's first session in '78 is a bloody slab of postpunk that makes Joy Division sound dainty. (The rubbery wail of "Rebellious Jukebox" is an early highlight.) By the time
Brix was on board, the Fall's mid-'80s Mancabilly roar was unstoppable.
But don't think that the boxset is a merry promenade down Yellow Brick Big Hit Road. Its surprises are manifold, and are all perfectly encapsulated by the band's cover of the
Captain Beefheart romp, "Beatle Bones 'N' Smokin' Stones". Witness the band whose heads:
1) reeled with giddy laughter beneath the layers of hardened sarcasm. The Fall's geniune joy in making music is made evident by their mercilessly goofy mystery detours, as "C 'n' C Stop Mithering" derails into "Do the Hucklebuck" and "Hark the Herald Angels Sing" is stripped of all pious sincerity.
2) burned with a violence for music well into its second decade. Few other
fearless freaks can still blister your eardrums that far into their careers.
3) locked
Vulcan-style into one of the best-oiled rock 'n' racket machines on the planet without being shellaced stiff. Don't let MES' sloppy slur fool you; these motherfuckers can play.
Buck 65 -
Kennedy Killed the HatA vocal critic of the increasingly
commercial and
troglodytic world of hip-hop, Halifax' finest (only?) MC follows in the footsteps of Andre 3000 by almost abandoning his
Native Tongue. The result is the most successful post-hip-hop experiment since
The Love Below, standing head-and-shoulders above the uneven recent releases by
K-Os and
Mos Def. Spending only half the album in his classic dusty troubadour persona, Buck (born Richard Terfry) blends genres and mashes up the mix with a fervor that Beck lost after
Odelay. The lead single, "Kennedy Killed the Hat", is either the bastard child of
Stereolab and the Fall, or the best
LCD Soundsystem that James Murphey never wrote.
Part Chimp -
Bring Back the RideThere's only so much analysis that sheer
amplitude can be afforded. Melody, songs, subtlety - Part Chimp cares not for these. Taken from their sophomore full-length,
I Am Come, this atomic blast of a song would make
O.G. rock reductionsists proud and makes
Lightning Bolt sound like genteel artschool wankers.
The Constantines -
LizavetaThe final release on the esteemed Toronto imprint
Three Gut Records, the Constantines' third album,
Tournament of Hearts, actually comes as an honest disappointment. I'm not saying this out of a knee-jerk effort to out-hip snide Torontonians; it hurts to criticize a band whose debut I think earned them the mantle of Best Band In Canada. But whereas
The Constantines and
Shine A Light were the raw id-spew of the disenfranchised caged in a basement,
Tournament sounds like an album written during those long, reflective hours spent driving across the barrens of central Canada. And where did the
contrapuntal guitar duels go? Why do only a couple of tracks (e.g. "Working Full-Time") spin into the frenzy that makes Constantines shows rock 'n' roll revivals? I'm keeping my fingers crossed that this is not energy dissipating, but rather changing form - one that promises Brave New Wails if the next album has more songs like "Lizaveta", an arena-sized New Orleans funeral march that packs a bigger punch than any hackneyed anthem by Coldplay.