Bedroom philosophy

I’m not the first person to observe that Australian indie music sticks pretty closely to a safe template of mid-90s Britpop and 70s rock ‘n’ roll. So it’s always exciting when an artist comes along who doesn’t have time for any kind of categorisation.

Melbourne’s Ned Collette’s blend of acoustic folk and weird bedroom electronic experimentalism isn’t unique in itself - Machine Translations’ J Walker has been doing something similar for years - but he has an ability to use those same ingredients to make something idiosyncratic.

Take the droning, looped melody of “Sell Your Life”, with Collette’s mantra-like vocals - you could probably pigeonhole it into a genre, but it wouldn’t do any sort of justice at all.

His album from last year, Future Suture, seems to have garnered some local fans and critical support, but he’s a long way from filling even mid-sized venues.  I guess that’s the price you pay for being one of a kind.

Ned Collette -  “Sell Your Life”

A Minor Comeback

This happens occasionally - a UK band catches a buzz, rockets up the local charts and then…completely fails to break anywhere else. London four-piece My Vitriol did just that back in the early part of the decade with some amazing effects-pedal-heavy singles, sort of Foo Fighters by way of My Bloody Valentine. After their album Finelines failed to get any real traction, they disappeared.

After five years on hold, Som Wardner must have called the others up and said “Hey guys, I’m thinking of getting the band back together”. So last year they put out a new EP, A Pyrhhic Victory, which I only discovered recently.

A nice little taste of what the second album might be like? I hope so, if this piano ballad by way of the Cocteau Twins is anything to go on.

My Vitriol - “Lord Knows How I’ve Tried (Mellow Version)”

Format wars

Before last night, I only had the vaguest of recollections of VHS or Beta - I seemed to imaging that they were at the poppier end of mid-decade dance-punk. They used lots of synthesizers, right? But the memory wasn’t a bad one, so when my friend offered me a free ticket for the Factory Theatre show, I gladly took up the opportunity.

The crowd was mostly what you’d expect - young, immaculately-attired hipsters with hair just the right kind of scruffy, flannelette and jeans that wouldn’t fit a two year-old. And the band looked like a slightly older reflection of the crowd.

Once they started playing, I was charmed. Lots of danceable grooves a la The Rapture or Daft Punk, mixed with some serious stadium rock aspirations. So much melody, so much enthusiasm. It seems that they’ve changed a bit since first gaining attention - the rock element is a new addition from what I understand. But it fits them nicely. Unlike their jeans.

VHS or Beta - “Fall Down Lightly”

VHS or Beta - “Burn It All Down”

Stone me into the groove

For someone who doesn’t smoke pot, I sure like me some stoner rock - Black Sabbath-copping rhythms, untelligible lyrics, tightly-wound guitar solos. Tune your guitar down, muddy up the sound and jam away for a few hours and I’ll probably like you.

But I also love the new breed of arty metalheads like Pelican and Isis who are just as much about texture and dynamics as they are about the Almighty Riff. These guys appeal to the much-more-dominant indie side of me and my love for experimental atmospheric rock.

So I guess it’s no surprise that I’m liking the new album by Miami band Torche. They’re intelligent enough to fill their music with subtle flourishes and amazing atmospherics - and they’re also goofy enough to let rip with some thunderous riffs. The album name, Meanderthal, seems appropriate for that reason - it makes me think of a big-ass caveman smelling some roses and enjoying the scenery.

A lot of the time, they make me think of those classic early 90s bands that sat somewhere between metal proper and grunge - Helmet, Kyuss, the Melvins etc. The rest of the time they’re like those contemporary bands that love Mogwai as much as Maiden.

What’s more, you can actually hear this split-personality all in one song.

Torche - “Fat Waves”

Side Project Alley

A “side project” typically arises for one of three reasons:

1. The instigator is a minor member of a band and is frustrated at their lack of creative input or attention.
2. They have songs or a genre to explore that don’t fit within the current band’s sound.
3. They have friends in other bands or from the bar they used to drink at illegally in high school and one night they think “Yeah, we should totally get a band together.”

Retribution Gospel Choir started off as a mix of #2 and #3. Main-man Alan Sparhawk’s day job is with Low, previously the softest, slowest band you could think of. He’s been the principal songwriter in Low over its fifteen-year existence, but Retribution Gospel Choir allowed him to bust out some grungy guitar riffs with fellow sad-sack Mark Kozelek (Red House Painters, Sun Kil Moon).

Reason #3 had disappeared by the time the debut album came out this year, as Kozelek has pulled back him contribution to production duties. Reason #2 has also become more spurious with the release of Low’s second last album The Great Destroyer, which was heavy on distorted guitars and upbeat rhythms. Which kind of makes you wonder why Sparhawk needs the other band.

Anyway, the album is quite good, even if it doesn’t explore new territory. Strangely enough, there are a couple of songs borrowed from last year’s Low album, Drums and Guns. This would be completely redundant if Low hadn’t pulled back on the rock and explored more electronic sounds with that album. So they make a nice contrast after all.

Perhaps RGC will take a different turn next album to stay off the Low-beaten path.

Low - “Breaker”

Retribution Gospel Choir - “Breaker”

Speedmarching

If you’ve followed the career of John “Speedo” Reis over any of the last fifteen years, you’ve probably worked out what to expect from him: classic 60s rock ‘n’ roll fed through the rough blender of West Coast hardcore for the most part.

Even as his bands have operated in different sub-genres (mathcore for Drive Like Jehu, pop-punk with Rocket From the Crypt and balls-out-rock in Hot Snakes) - Speedo’s developed a pretty consistent sound.

Now that RFTC and Hot Snakes are both defunct, it could be time for reinvention. But Speedo knows when he’s onto a good thing and new band The Night Marchers is pretty much Hot Snakes Mk. II. Case in point is a pedal-down barnstormer like “Branded”.

No complaints here - to do so would be like criticising The White Stripes for not using enough cello. That said, it’s not all death-by-riffage: “You’ve Got Nerve” is a crunchy, laid-back pop song if ever there was one.

In short, if you liked the old bands, you’ll probably like this one. If you never heard any of Speedo’s previous records, then listen to Suicide Invoice and Scream, Dracula, Scream! But listen to this one too.

The Night Marchers - “Branded”

The Night Marchers - “You’ve Got Nerve”

More dour Scottish music

I’ve been on a major Malcolm Middleton kick since seeing him at the Hopetoun a few weeks back. Prior to the show, I only knew him as the guitar-playing half of the late, legendary miserabilists Arab Strap. While his solo material is less idiosyncratic (very few bands had a more distinct sound than the Strap), it’s got a lot of charm and humour.

Actually, Malcolm seems to relish the opportunities of self-deprecation and negativity. He didn’t smile much throughout the gig - and when you’re singing about death and heartbreak for an hour, that’s to be expected - but he cracked jokes throughout and you know he’s working a shtick as much as anything else. As he sings on “A Week Off”, “It’s easy hating yourself, it’s harder making it rhyme”.

His latest album, Sleight of Heart, is a bit of retreat from the full-band rock of last year’s A Brighter Beat, with mostly acoustic moodiness. In fact, it’s closer to his live show, which is just Malcolm, a guitar and an icebucket full of beer. The live show is pretty well documented on the limited edition Live at the Bush Hall, even if it was recorded a couple of years back. For a mix of jaunty melodies and scathing lyrics, it’s worth tracking down Malcolm’s albums or catching him live.

For now - here’s a taster.

Malcolm Middleton - “A Week Off”

Malcolm Middleton - “Break My Heart (live)”

Your Convict Past

The bartender at the Comet Tavern in Seattle loved Australian music. He liked it so much he happily talked about it with my friend and I at length and didn’t charge us for drinks (although that might have been more to do with liking my friend). The Birthday Party, The Saints, The Scientists, The Beasts of Bourbon: these were like crack for him.

It made me think about a particular strand of Australian rock music that blew up in the late 70s and early 80s, but has been hibernating ever since (I think that’s three different metaphors in one sentence - nice). The kind of primal rock music that reminds you that we’re a nation founded by convicts and are home to some of the most lethal fauna anywhere. Unlike, say, the Lucksmiths, who remind you that a lot of us are latte-sipping urbanites in cardigans.

The reason I’m thinking about this has been finally getting into The Drones and their howling, bluesy Australian rawk. I can’t think of the last time I listened to something so brutal. The guitars on “Jezebel” seem to be made from cut-throat razors and the lyrics are biting and wicked (”I’ll hurt you like an amputee”, “I had a Caesarean but it was not any use”). And I love it.

The Drones - “Jezebel”

Return from the dead

Despite their place as one of my favourite bands back in my late uni days, Death Cab for Cutie lost my love around about the time I heard a song called “Expo ‘86″.

Honestly, it’s not a bad song and even the rest of 2003’s Transatlanticism had some great moments. But it was lacking a secret ingredient that had made the earlier albums so extraordinary. Nothing they did in the subsequent four years quite won me back.

Ben Gibbard - Cath… (solo version)

Of course, Death Cab didn’t need my love. They were writing the songs they wanted to write, producing albums the way they wanted to produce them and selling them by the bucketload. So the news that the latest album, Narrow Stairs, has brought an old fan back will be of no importance to Ben Gibbard and Co.

The biggest difference is the return of the rock. The jittery guitars that are spread throughout the album remind me of how they used to be lumped in with Built to Spill by critics. The thundering drums remind me of how The Photo Album of 2002 was full of storming power-pop, rather than ballads.

It’s not perfect and some of the lyrics are uninspired and uninspiring. But songs like “Cath…”, “No Sunlight” and “Long Division” remind me of the Death Cab I used to love and can maybe love again.

Death Cab for Cutie - “No Sunlight”

Death Cab for Cutie - “Long Division”

Bonny and bleak

No one does depressing music quite like the Scots. Really. The bleary-eyed ruminations of Arab Strap, the noisy melancholia of Mogwai, the suicidal doom of The Jesus and Mary Chain. The Norwegians and Swedes don’t seem to have any better weather but they’ve embraced the high camp of Black Metal and disco pop. It takes a Scot to really break your heart.

Last year saw the emergence of The Twilight Sad with their brooding dramatic rock opus Fourteen Autumns & Fifteen Winters. The Scottish accent of James Graham made them stand out even more than otherwise - and the consistency of their sound over the course of an LP made them a unique act.

Not quite so unique, now that fellow Glaswegian miserabilists Frightened Rabbit have dropped their debut effort. FR are a bit more shambolic than The Twilight Sad, who somehow sound like they’ve been drilled into a fighting force of rock. But they’ve got the same chiming Arcade Fire-like indie powerhouse sound and the same bleak lyrics sung in what can only be describes with words like “brogue”.

If you like your music anthemic and your lyrics full of despair, then Team Scotland is still where you have to go.

The Twilight Sad - “And She Would Darken The Memory”

Frightened Rabbit - “Fast Blood”