Record: Katatonia 'Dead End Kings' (2012)

I've been a massive Katatonia fan for just under a day now, and it's mostly down to this (their most recent) record. I saw them live last week opening for Opeth and liked them (especially Nille, because holy **** I want a grey Warwick LX 5 just like his), but was too caught up in being psyched about seeing Mendez & Åkerfeldt et al live for the first time to really get into these guys. Until I got past Watershed  and The Raven That Refused To Sing in my stack of to-listen discs and tossed this one on my work playlist this morning. Ten hours and three-point-five full listens later... I love it. I love it so much I don't even know what to do. It's like everything that's bad for me in one gloriously, self-indulgently, bleakly-bespattered-with-carrion-birds package delivered by deliciously gloomy Swedish deliverymen with, collectively, at least a mile of hair over their faces. It's like going on a diet of only things that are unhealthy but also unspeakably delicious. It's like - fuck, just go listen to it already. You know you want to, and anyway I can't concentrate on writing this review anymore because I need to go and listen to Dead Letters again.

Record: Rhonda Smith 'Intellipop' (2000)

It's no secret that, as a rule, I harbor grave suspicions regarding 'funk' and the so-called and much-maligned 'mainstream' popular music. Rules being made to be broken, I wasn't particularly surprised when singer & bassist Rhonda Smith smashed that one to pieces with her mighty Mesa-powered tone and almost miraculous ability to look gorgeous even while clad in bright yellow. [Seriously. How does she even do that?! No one looks good in yellow.] Despite the unavoidably funky pop style of this record, I find myself unable to turn it off (or stop hitting 'replay'). The unusually tasteful arrangements and even more unusually tasteful lyrics keep me coming back for another listen, as do the skillfully complex basslines lurking in the background of the deliciously atmospheric mix. Though a few loudmouthed (and tasteless, and possibly hearing-impaired) critics have disparaged her naturalistic, unpolished singing style and relative lack of vocal pyrotechniques, I would argue that the understated vocal lines and slightly unusual timbre of her voice are all the more captivating for their (minor) imperfections.

Check this classy lady out:

Record: Japan 'Obscure Alternatives' (1978)

This record is such an odd experience. Being a massive fan of their later works, the Japan sound I know is smoothly elegant; classy, cool, and substantially coloured by exotic tints of civilizations far from England in the golden age of synthpop. It's completely disorienting to put on a Japan record and hear loud, fast, raw, raunchy glam rock. None of the esoteric beauty of Gentlemen Take Polaroids is to be found here, and Sylvian, not yet having developed his trademark velvety baritone croon, is almost unrecognizable in these gritty, yowling vocals. Only in Karn's slippery, tonally unstable bass playing and Jansen's frenetically odd drumming can I hear strong hints of the sounds I know they'll be making by the next record, 1979's stupendous Quiet Life. Most of the record is more reminiscent of some strange cross between The New York Dolls and tidbits of jazz and funk. It's also strange to hear so much prominent guitar; after this record most guitar sounds would become completely lost in the tonal sea of Richard Barbieri's wall-o'-synth - which is nearly inaudible this time around. The only track which resembles what I think of as 'the Japan sound' is The Tenant, a piano-based instrumental which ends the record on a note that carries over into every record they released afterwards. 

It's a damned good record once I manage to shut myself off from the visceral "that CAN'T be Japan" reaction. Their musical proficiency makes for a nice change from the simplistic three-chord structure of most glam rock, and it's quite entertaining hunting for precursors to their rather sudden switch to a sleek, shimmering art-pop sound.

Record: Pitty Sing 'Pitty Sing' (2005)

Unrealized potential makes me want to cry, and this album is a perfect example why. It's not a great record; the songs are all over the place, the lyrics oscillate between witty, trashy, and trite, and the obsessive-sounding overproduction is just plain off. But the talent! It oozes out from between the grooves, displaying so, so much potential greatness, and it's a real tragedy for music that they never made another album. I remember hearing this when it first came out and thinking I'd discovered the next best thing since candy. The flaws here do shine as brightly as the facets - but there's still that undeniable appeal of something lurking in the music, set off rather wonderfully by the unusual harmonic progressions, the unobtrusively clever basslines, and Paul Holmes' outrageously sexy vocals floating atop a wash of sadly-digital-sounding synths. The right combination of time, experience, stern management, and better production might have resulted in one of the best bands of the decade - Steve Nye could have made these guys into stars! - and it's a damned shame we don't get to hear what that sounds like.

Favourite tracks: We're On Drugs (most solid song on the record), Anyway (a little overblown, but it's an awfully good tune), and ctwyl (fantastic use of that lovely voice).

Record: Kings of Leon 'Youth & Young Manhood' (2003)

If you can explain to me why I feel guilty about loving this record, I'll take you out for ice cream*. Seriously, I will! I couldn't begin to tell you why, but I have to admit that Kings of Leon fall squarely into the category of bands I wouldn't want my friends to know I like. Which is totally stupid, because this catchy, raucous little record is a hell of a good time, and one has cheered me up rather a lot during the past week or so. I do find it a little off-putting that singer Caleb F. sounds so astonishingly, incoherently hammered - like he's maybe swigging some really terrible Southern beer every time he stops singing to 'take a breath' - but his style does fit the music, and the music is really pretty decent.

Favourite tracks: 'Happy Alone' (the sheer quantity of madcap drunken glee is irresistible), 'Joe's Head' (I LOVE Jared F.'s slidy, melodic bassline on this weirdly cheery murder ditty), and the menacingly groovy 'Holy Roller Novocaine'.

*next time we hang out. Sorry if that takes a while to happen, but I'm rarely in your part of the world...

Record: Porcupine Tree 'The Incident' (2009)

[I broke my wrist. This makes typing a serious nuisance, particularly capital letters, but it also makes me so bored - I can't do very much of anything useful - that one-handed typing seems like a worthwhile diversion. Excessive reviews may be forthcoming... For now, on to the record of the hour.]

Warning: this record may eat your soul.

Well, okay, maybe not yours - I don't know how susceptible you may be. It did eat mine though; I couldn't listen to anything else for a month after first hearing. It's such a perfectly complete self-contained sonic universe that no other music sounded right until I'd burned this into my consciousness solidly enough that I didn't need to hear it all of the time. The music is incredible, exquisitely beautiful melodies woven through bitter harmony and harshly distorted, brutally melancholic riffs. The band has never played better; Colin Edwin's tastefully (and sometimes deceptively) simple basslines really shine through the achingly beautiful haze of the stupendous Richard Barbieri's wall-of-synth. The mix is unusually clean, achieving that rare beast, perfect balance. This just might be the best headphones album ever made. I'm not sure I could name the other 4, but this is definitely one of my top 5 records.

Record: Justin Townes Earle 'Midnight At The Movies' (2009)

I've got a bit of a soft spot for young Mr. Earle. He's never struck me as having the sheer quantity of raw talent that his daddy was blessed (or possibly cursed?) with, but there's a softness and a prettiness to this record that I've never heard from the elder Earle. I really, really like the atmosphere of nostalgic antiquity, drawing heavily from the 1920s and 30s for musical inspiration, juxtaposed anachronistically with fairly modern lyrics. These songs are nice, which is, for one thing, a bit surprising considering the source, and for another, quite refreshing in this world that tends to glorify nastiness. It's a little bit of an odd listen, haunted as he is by the ghosts of older musicians hanging over his head, but he seems to have chosen to accept that fact rather than to fight it, and I think it's worked wonders for his songwriting.

Record: John Martyn 'Solid Air' (1973)

I feel that this album is one of the lost treasures of 20th-century music. It's an elusively delightful record that, for the first couple of listens, truly evaded me - then one day it just hit me right, and I got what it was for and about. What I'm saying is - it might take a few tries to get past the slightly off-putting way that Martyn slurs his words together (like the horrible old sot that he in fact was), and the way he turns soft consonants into hard ones. It's undeniably a little odd. But... Patience and an open mind will be amply rewarded when you lock in on the gorgeous tunes (particularly 'Solid Air', 'Over the Hill', and 'May You Never') and the sheer beauty of his voice and guitar playing. This was the record which introduced me to the concept of jazz-folk, which is a surprisingly winning combination, and this record is also one of the finest examples of that genre.

Highlight: seriously kick-ass upright basslines courtesy of the truly great Mr. Danny Thompson (you'll be hearing more about him as this blog progresses), particularly on the title track and on 'Go Down Easy':

Record: John Cale 'Fragments of a Rainy Season' (1992)

Full disclosure: I am physically, mentally, and emotionally incapable of writing an objectively unbiased review of Mr. Cale's work. I think the man is a genius, and, viola notwithstanding, he's one of my best-beloved and most-revered musical heroes.

On to the subject at hand, which has got to be one of the top 10 greatest live albums of all time. It's a compilation of highlights recorded during Cale's 1992 tour, showcasing a superlative performer at his very best. My one complaint is that there are only 20 tracks, which leaves me very much wanting more.
Most of the material is his own, though there are two really stupendous covers - a version of 'Heartbreak Hotel' that might just rip the heart right out of you, and perhaps the most beautiful and honest rendition of 'Hallelujah' I've heard. My personal favourite tracks are 'Child's Christmas in Wales', 'Thoughtless Kind', and the outstanding '(I Keep A) Close Watch', which really brings out the lovely bittersweet quality his voice performs so beautifully.

Also check out the 'Fragments of a Rainy Season' DVD, filmed during that tour at the Palais des Beaux-Arts in Brussels; the man is a classy, elegant performer, and that's a bit of a rarity and a real pleasure to witness: