Voodoo Johnson - Into The Red

There’s no doubt that a lot of great music owes something to the rock ‘n roll era. But like that pointless crush that you obsessed over for far too long before realising they weren’t all that, some haven’t yet brushed themselves off musically speaking, and started to live in the moment again.

In a world where Ipods might contain everything from electronic jazz to afro-beat influenced indie, together with a bit of post-rock or shoegaze, and yes some classic rock too, you might imagine that musicians would have opened their eyes to more diverse influences. Not Birmingham’s Voodoo Johnson I’m afraid, but why can’t they realised that nobody CARES anymore?!

“VJ” as they call themselves, say their songs “explore themes such as loss, regret and revenge.” Totally sounds like, awesome right? They also say they are championing rock in an era of people who prefer gimmicks than good music, but then proudly cite such influences as AC/DC, My Chemical Romance, Velvet Revolver, Foo Fighters and Led Zeppelin. Talking of manufactured gimmicks then − ahem ‘scuse me but My Chemical Romance?! And nothing wrong with a bit of Zeppelin of course, but being influenced by them? C’mon lads it’s hardly original.

These clever cock−rockers sound exactly like Guns ‘n Roses, which most sane people probably think are shite. There’s something ridiculous about the indulgent solos, growly rock vocals and clichéd metal riffs, it’s a parody of rock and has its place only as the soundtrack to This is Spinal Tap.

Sunshine Reflects From Glass Buildings

I know this is a quality electronic tune so I whack it on, as I head out from under an archway, over cobbled streets, as the glass of sophisticated restaurants form a precursor of city visions to come.

The morning walk is short, the track is by Northern Ireland’s only dub step artist, Boxcutter, it's called "Sunshine vip". A pleasant scene begins to unfold.

The music starts with a plush piece of ambient loveliness, pan pipes swell over fizzing electric guitars from 2020. Something else sounds like tension. I cross the road carefully avoiding bikes on the inside lane − all the while electronic music oozes, turning right through a small lane lined with Chinese Restaurants, then left as the percussion really kicks in. The jazz groove combines with drill 'n bass sensibilities, as tall glass buildings line this non-descript street of clean lines and BMW. Cool as ice electronic sounds (emotive) appear to bounce from glass and reverberate down a street towards one lonely traffic light. Greek restaurants with tall empty chairs, shiny bars and windows are light reflectors too. Fizz! fizz, fizz, Fizz! Fizz! The sounds go fizz.

Pure urban scenes of morning urgency play by as music allows me to step outside normal fields of perception without being late for lectures i.e. hung-over. Bass from the Amazon River pulsates, wet mysterious sounds appear and disappear, the creatures of a jungle-dark, enchant the hot evening.

They relate their cognitive energy through technological sounds of nature, and occasionally dub reggae. Then sounds of static, the more electrified drill combines with bass as this superb piece of work fades out nobly over green rooftops in New York.

It became a vision of humans living in harmony with nature − so good I didn’t listen to another song all day.
(© Copyright 2008 - James Labous)

Cloud Culture From A Plane Window (A Gonzo Music Journalist's Account)

The view from a plane window is a rare insight into how our little world really is.

Houses and cars can be seen for what they are – merely little boxes – roads become arteries, and fields are sweeping plains of truth.

Then there are the things we usually gaze up at– with the morning or evening light, beauty can emanate infinitely from clouds like some ultimately tranquil drug trip. There are mountains, lakes and the sea to view from the plane window too, even the most mundane landscapes at ground level can provide fitting backdrops for the sky and the strange creatures of cloudland.

And so the green and lush landscape of North West Ireland formed the particular setting for this musical adventure. At six am on a Saturday morning, as the air gushed over metal, as hostesses inhabited poses not all that far away from 2001: A Space Odyssey, I did think it could be a good time for an Autechre record. But this morning chemicals in my brain were telling me that I wanted to transcend the very technology keeping me afloat magically in the air, to become timeless, to wonder at sweeping gullies, geysers of chemistry and hills of mist. Wordsworth would have been proud.

I’ve never been to Iceland but people tell me that the geysers and hills are like no where else in the world. It's home to active volcanoes, an economy effected most unfortunately by the world credit crunch, and a band called Sigur Ros.

Dawn broke and I found myself listening to this band – their Brackets album in fact. I was greeted by pleasant piano's and a strange voice and slowly, very slowly (because they really like to build things up first these guys), crescendoing guitars descended upon my ears and the Captain’s announcement on the tannoy became just another part of the art. The clouds and the tangible energy of music merged into one outer body experience. From my window seat, with the small reinforced plastic panel providing a portal to interzone, I became just another molecule in this massive but still tiny entity in the sky of a small planet in the corner of a universe. Normal reality and the instinct to survive slipped away and the music took over.

The virtue of Sigor Ros is their patients. The sparse drum rhythms, the smooth sliding transitions of bass notes, subtly driving the sound, beautifully simple keyboard melodies and guitars which soar like a graceful phoenix. Mood is established through such minimal means that the mere striking of an extra drum, or additional melody can strike deep into the soul. That voice of course, like Thom Yorke on ketamin, and speaking ancient Icelandic. The combination is like being transported to a historic land of hills and tribal battles fought between oddly gentle warlords, who worship Viking gods. A land where people suffer from the same worries and woes, but in different, more mysterious forms.

Samskeyti from the Brackets album is both melancholy and buoyant at once. The soundtrack to the end of a life or a brilliant tribute to the fragility of existence. Ah the world of Sigur Ros.

To be an ancient minstrel wondering magical lands or not to be. That was the question running through my head when the air hostess so rudely interrupted to inform me that my ipod could be interfering fatally with the landing equipment of this little flying machine. Rudeness.

Ouch! Bumpy landing, scared the living day shits out of my poor big sis. Ireland was a lovely hospitable place but the buildings were sometimes ugly as hell at ground level. Donegal lamb is succulent and fresh.
(© Copyright 2008 - James Labous)

Future Of The Left - Manchasm

The word ‘punk’ means many things. Before the 1970s, on the streets of San Francisco it meant a young hoodlum, a hustler. Punks, like lots of things need to evolve however, and the problem with a lot of modern punk rock is that it hasn’t.

When Future of The Left released their debut album ‘Curses’ in 2007, some were dismayed, others delighted, that the band had moved towards the occasional use of lead synthesisers to replace guitar.

The thing is, if you were a Mclusky fan, then you might have wanted Andy "Falco" Falkous, and Jack Egglestone (formerly of Mclusky), and Kelson Mathias (frontman of now defunct experimental electronic/punk act, Jarcrew) to just carry on in the same vein. Being true musicians, they were never going to do that though. Future of the Left’s sound is firmly entrenched within Mclusky’s unique tradition of hardcore indie music – but with a little something extra, and the little something is Mathias – his heavy bass sound and enthusiasm for electronics.

After the success of ‘Curses’, the band has emerged with a brand new single, entitled ‘Manchasm’. And it’s a corker, employing the new electronic synthesiser approach to full effect – Kelson’s now trademark hard hitting distorted fuzzy bass is the driving force, complimenting Falco’s distinctively harsh and political vocals. This isn’t punk, but everything that made punk good in 1970 went into this single – in the words of Tommy Ramone, direct pure and stripped down, no bullshit rock and roll. With synths.

iLIKETRAINS - We Go Hunting

Traditionally a historian is more like a detective than an artist, investigating past events and using hard evidence to reconstruct our past in a truthful fashion. The members of iLiKETRAINS would disagree though – they’re clearly history nuts! The inspiration for the Leeds bands’ music lies with re-imagined historical characters and events, and is portrayed through a powerful mix of baritone vocals, sung over potent post rock melodies.

The music is not the sounds of the past, rather the band use the past as an inspiration for their modern music. It’s epic, but not forced - the emotional focus is on the depiction of often harrowing events so Dave Martin (vocals, guitar) has the perfect excuse to be melodramatic.

The new single, ‘We Go Hunting,’ portrays a paranoid Massachusetts of 1692, steeped in religious fervour. It was here that nineteen women were accused of witchcraft, and hung at the hands of the church. The event became known as “The Salem Witch Trials” – Arthur Miller famously depicted the events in his play of 1953, ‘The Crucible’.

Through a dark post rock sensibility, the Leeds band is once again able to achieve an ominous sense of foreboding. Simon Fogul’s pounding, tribal drums compliment epic delayed guitars – the excellence of this single is in the way it builds tension, through a combination of clever lyricism and instrumental wisdom.

Martin’s vocal style is undeniable influenced by Morissey, as well as being comparable to Paul Banks of Interpol. The singer has said that he wanted iLiKETRAIN’s music to have a "sense of location" that was lacking in music like Godspeed You! Black Emperor and Sigur Rós, and they’ve have achieved this – there’s a downside though. Out of context, this band might appear pretentious, in a thoroughly British way, and well just plain miserable.

My Favourite Ghanian Dish? ... It's Not Dissimilar to a Cheese Omelette Actually

It’s eight o’clock on a Wednesday evening in the suburbs of Cape Coast. Already some TPA volunteers are milling along the streets, on their way to a party just a few streets away. As you would expect, the hosts have managed to acquire the equipment needed for a half decent house party; mainly a cd player (some kind of music playing equipment is absolutely essential of course), a table with free beer and even a disastrously disgusting, and alcoholic bowl full of punch. This all sounds familiar right? Yes, but how many parties have you been to where the hosts hire a kebab van for the night?At ten past eight sharp a taxi appears in the driveway and Arthur, one of our hosts tonight, steps out grinning. He proceeds to open the door for a good natured looking and middle aged Ghanaian lady who is occupying the front passenger seat, she has a large pile on her lap which includes a saucepan and many loaves of bread. This is Am, the Egg Sandwich Lady, and amongst TPA (Teaching And Projects Abroad) volunteers, she has become somewhat of a legend in these parts. So much so in fact, that the hosts of this party decided to invite her tonight to make egg sandwiches exclusively for us – her response was an enthusiastic “yes of course”, though we were a little worried actually that she would say no.A confused and then enthusiastic cry meets Arthur as he climbs from the taxi - for most of the party goers Am’s appearance is a complete surprise. She is found a prime position and the taxi driver is hastily offered a beer.“The egg sandwich lady is such a legend, it’s made my evening that she is here tonight,” relates an enthusiastic Tom, a medical volunteer. “I love her egg sandwiches,” croons Emily who works at the local orphanage, “the double egg with cheese is my favourite.” Our lady legend speaks with her cooking however, and true to form this evening, my single egg with cheese, aubergines and ever so slightly fried bread, is a delicious culinary wonder. It’s a far cheaper and slightly healthier (yes, I’ll kid myself that) alternative to the post-several-beer kebab that is customary at the end of a night out at home. So how did this fascination for one lady and her eggs… and her cheese begin?One man’s brave search for a kebab like substitute after a night in Cape Coast seems to point to the origins. “Back in the day,” Jurun, a medical volunteer begins, “Reuben (whom I, as a relative newbie volunteer, never actually met), was the only one to get egg sandwiches at Am’s, other people used to buy them in town but they were never that good. Reuben used to wax lyrical about these sandwiches though, and soon he had Tom, Chris, Arthur and me hooked, but we still only bought single or double eggs. Then one evening Chris caught sight of one of those portions of cheese that they have in Ghana, you know, the packets that look a bit like French Camembert. Well we asked if Am could put some in the sandwich and kebamb! The egg sandwich with cheese was born!” And the tradition has been going strong ever since, for five months it has been passed down through the generations of Cape Coast volunteers. Night after night sandwiches are purchased by TPA volunteers of varying shapes and sizes, Am is on first name terms with her most regular customers.We are slightly concerned however. This tradition should survive and become part of every volunteer’s experiences in Cape Coast, but many of the flag bearers of Am’s Egg Sandwiches are leaving at Christmas. We are worried that this obsession could just become another fad, another cheap fix like too many things in Western society. So this is a message to all TPA volunteers who are planning to come to Cape Coast in the New Year… Please keep this tradition going! Especially if you like your omelettes particularly cheesy because you’re guaranteed to love this Ghanaian delight. The egg sandwich lady can be found just down from Solice Junction on the right hand side of the road as you are heading into town.On a normal night the atmosphere as we wait for Am to prepare our orders is tranquil and atmospheric. A few cars pass by and the soft voices and varied accents of the volunteers echo across the night. As I enjoy yet another single egg with cheese, I think of the few nights that I have left and the comparatively few sandwiches that I can fit in during this time. There are thoughts for the future volunteers, and we wonder whether Am, the egg sandwich lady, will bring joy to their hearts. I pray that she will.

What Did you Expect? Radiohead Have Always Sung To Their Own tune

This morning I woke up in a state of panicked anticipation. In the summer of 2006 I was lucky enough to see Radiohead headline The Rock en Seine Festival in Paris. What I witnessed on that warm August night somewhere in the banlieu of Paris only confirmed what was already firmly believed. That Thom Yorke and his friends have developed into the foremost Rock band of this era − they have taken modern music to a new artistic level. Criticised for being arty, pretentious and dirge like, I challenge any critic who has witnessed them live to still persist with this argument.

It is now 10th of October 2007, and eleven days earlier Radiohead announced that they were releasing their long anticipated seventh studio album. I had been waiting for this day a lot longer than I though I would have to! Live version of some of the tracks already written had long since been leaked onto Youtube, the then unnamed Videotape was one such track that had left a haunting impression on me that night in Paris. I began to harbour a feint hope, that this album could be a corker though the feeling was coupled familiar anxiety. Like many, I have had to learn the hard way that high expectations often result in bitter disappoint, and this doesn’t just apply to music!

I allowed my daring hope to prevail however. The sound of these new songs did seem very original, yet understated and dare it be said, more accessible than Hail To The Thief, but without returning to the more traditional rock of The Bends. What kept my faith was that if Radiohead were going to “sell out”, then they would have done it long ago. Every musical direction since The Bends has been a demonstration that this band represented the very polar opposite of this.

And then the bombshell... While everyone else is standing around with their fingers in their bums, Radiohead’s website announce that the band have finished their album and that it will be available for download in ten days time. Cheeky rascals.

Now If you have read some of the many other articles on this subject then you may or may not agree. None realise one point about this much talked about new release technique.

“So he likes Radiohead then…”

“Yea he does… he does but only up until The Bends,”

“Oh, right… he’s one of them. Ah well, he might have good taste in films, lets give the guy a chance”.

This is a familiar conversation for many, one very similar to this has taken place many times amongst my peers − You see, for some, compassion for Radiohead ended the moment that “Ok Computer” was released and for them, the band disappeared far up their own rectums.

It’s a familiar story − honest young friends with relative talent and who seriously dig music write a few songs and happen to hit upon a sound and sentiment not heard before. Honest young friends secure major record deal, become relatively famous, receive unwarranted female attention and become conniving little bastards who are all secretly jealous of the synth player. They know secretly that he is the only one with any real talent. Conniving little wankers are told to record a second album by the record company and after realising that they have spent to much time getting drunk and stoned, and not using this altered state of mind to write anything original, decide to record ten identical songs to their last album. But the record company don’t mind, they know that they can eek at least two more albums from these suckers before consigning them to the dustbin of “in ten years, no one will even remember you, let alone give a shit club.” These are the musicians who only like The Bends.

Radiohead’s contract with EMI/Capitol expired after its last record, Hail to the Thief, was released in 2003; shortly before the band started writing new songs. Thom Yorke told TIME, “I like the people at our record company, but the time is at hand when you have to ask why anyone needs one. And, yes, it probably would give us some perverse pleasure to say ‘Fuck you’ to this decaying business model.” Radiohead have always been an independent band at heart. A major was the right business model for them because only a major could provide the finances needed to fund a band with such a wide fanbase. Their ability to sell millions of records was based on pure excellence, not because they subscribed to a particular scene, or sound deemed fashionable at that time (though many very talented bands, it should be pointed out, have been initiators of such scenes). Radiohead have long been a superstar band who don’t play by the rule book, challenging their audience by changing their sound. They have lost a few fans along the way yes, but have gained many in return. In doing so, they have escaped becoming one of those great bands who peter out after ten years, sick and unable to reinvent themselves.

After only growing in stature since "The Bends", the band would have slowly realised that the record company was becoming less and less important for them. I expect that they would have seen independence as a opportunity that their natural sense of intuitivism, originality and intelligence would aspire to. And the outcome of their decision was sensational, an extremely well executed act. Before you start calling them entrepenurial geniuses as well as musical maestros however, don’t forget that they had four years to think about it all! I have to give it to them though; those boys know how to keep a bloody secret!

I’m going to draw a hilariously crude comparison now − Katie Melua must be suffering with a similar discontent. Recently the singer songwriter announced in an interview with The Telegraph that she has decided to make no more albums with her co-writer and mentor Mike Batt. “I wouldn't say I was getting restless but three was enough. I am becoming my own person and there isn't space any more for two creative people to go on an album.” Every fledging becomes an adult and feels the need to leave their comfortable nest, and spread their wings.

And audaciously spread their considerable wing span, Radiohead have done. This download idea is, may I point out probably less original than any of their music don’t you know.What did Arctic Monkeys do a few years ago if it wasn’t offering fans downloads of their songs? JJ72 has done it, so have Nine Inch Nails, and your Dad might listen to Marillion. He might have even been one of the few thousand faithful fans of the long time prog rockers to prepay for an album that wasn’t even recorded at the time.

Now look, no cynic here is going to tell me that this stunt was simply a clever marketing ploy which has gained greater long term credibility for the band, though both of these statements are true. It was an audacious statement by a band who were in the position to make that statement. The more superstitious amongst us might call it fate − the invention of the internet was a large part of this fate. In years to come, will we look at the 10th November to be the turning point in the major record label industry’s dwindling personal fate? Perhaps, and if we do, I’m thinking that Thom and Johnny, Ed, Phil and Colin and wanted to be responsible for that. They have been in the business long enough to prove that their art is what comes first. They have prove to be the nemesis of Metallica, who sued Napster, a popular downloading software in 2000. It distanced them from fans and resulted in a major PR disaster.

Bob Lefsetz, an American music industry critic and consultant to major record labels gives his opinion. “It’s not like Radiohead’s living in a different world. But they’re playing by a different rule book. One that says the money flows from the music, that people have to believe in you, that you’ve got to treat them right. This is big news. This says the major labels are fucked. Untrustworthy with a worthless business model. Radiohead doesn’t seem to care if the music is free. Not that they believe it will be. Because believers will give you ALL THEIR MONEY! This is the industry’s worst nightmare. Superstar band, THE superstar band, forging ahead by its own wits. Proving that others can too. And they will.”
Radiohead are proof. You can challenge your fans by changing your sound. As an artist you have the license to push those artistic boundaries, and your fans are the one’s who have helped to put you in that privileged position, they’ve had faith in you. What you can’t do is demonstrate that you’re a money grabbing philistine like Alan Sugar is. Even if you are one of these artist and you market your music to fifteen year olds, its about presenting an image of yourself as “down with the hood” or sufficiently rock and roll. If the legacy of Jack Keroac had truly lived on, then it would be about which “new wave (or should that be rave) jazz artist is most “beat”. And what can be more beat than effectively leaking your own album? The physical CD album In Rainbows will be probably released in January 2008.
So what now? For Radiohead, the future is surely bright. They might have quite happily carried on the same way, they probably would have made the same excellent record (I think that it is already safe to say that it is at least excellent). Instead, they have created a tidal wave that they may well ride for a good few years to come. Now a completely independent “superstar” band, the first of their kind, and with much more creativity in the locker room I am certain.
For the majors it looks grim and you know what, I’m not sad at all. Labels like EMI have been responsible for introducing some very bad values into the music industry, of placing marketability over the quality of the artist. I sincerely hope that all this could mean a better future for the independents − Hooray! Perhaps smaller but ambitious artists, who previously might have dismissed the independents, will now consider them. After all, not everyone can be like Radiohead and be a brand in themselves. The advantage of the major label over the independent seems to be diminishing though, which can only be a good thing for the honesty of modern music.