Discoveries from a Record Store [RSDD34]
23 April, 2013
As you all probably know, last Saturday was Record Store Day. So what did I do? Visited a record store, of course! Specifically, my destination was Wuxtry Records, Athens' legendary establishment in the heart of downtown. There, I caroused about the bins, and took copious notes of attractive vinyls - but, at last, my heart was sold on two compilations, from A Certain Ratio and James Chance, that rested securely behind a glass counter. As the humble clerk bustled to fetch my requests, he proffered two new releases to me - and, since the dude had such a swell taste, I took him up on the offer. The first two reviews below are those two releases. The third is from a band that tagged onto my Twitter feed - bit like the requests John Peel received in the post, isn't it? That being said, I need to rifle through all my followers again...
Micachu and the Shapes – a professionally trained dabbler in raucous noise. Micachu, a singer/songwriter/producer/jack-of-all-trades musician who hails from England, has been bashing out music for some time now, but just put out this glorious mess of an LP, Never, last year. It’s a melodic racket, full of sounds that might be familiar, but seem slightly skewed, a little rough, a touch more wobbly.
The album bursts forth with the gleefully warped “Easy”, which introduces Micachu’s somewhat androgynous, almost Liz Fraser-esque vocals (circa Garlands, and with a much more limited register) and the clattering percussion that lends such charm to the whole of the LP. If you’re not awash with delight in the first thirty seconds, then you should put down this album right now. Several of these tracks have such an immediate appeal, that they sound like alternative standards already – the hip yet ragged “Slick”, for instance, the frenetic title track, and the perky “You Know”. Never, however, shifts gears quite often: “OK” bears a psychedelic strain with clanging drums; “Low Dogg”, on the other hand, fuses an industrial edge with a nearly hip-hop beat. And then there’s “Fall”, the longest track on the album (at just over four minutes), a rather free-flowing and minimal number that often features little more than some rudimentary strumming and a dribbling drum roll, and ends with a haunting violin that peels away nearly as abruptly as it entered. Follow this with the freaked-out 50s doo-wop of “Nothing” – good lord. It’s just astonishing. In short, if you seek a touch of whacked-out artistry, you ought to hunt down this album. Now, I found Never at my local respectable record store - but it’s a Rough Trade release, so you can also order it here. Also available via mass-streaming services like Spotify - but then you won’t catch a glimpse of the curiously pixelated house interior within the lyric booklet… |
Tunabunny – Before we even begin, let us applaud Tunabunny for possessing the most baffling band name on Soundscape thus far. What on earth is a Tunabunny, you ask? Enter three cool chicks (and one dude) from my neck of the woods – Athens, GA! – and their fantastic band mates. They’ve been described as “powerpop” and “experimental” in the same breath, which is fair enough a description.
They rock solid, from the starting gate of Genius Fatigue – just dig that opener, “Duchess For Nothing”, with its slammin’ drum solos and the girls’ off-kilter and passionate vocals. Then, in a 180 twist, “Serpents & Light” is a sweet lil’ number, a blend of friendly riffs and tender harmonies. Then Tunabunny flip again, to build up the cerebral chant of “You Do What You Want” alongside a rip-roaring guitar solo. Most surprising, however, is the stark “Airplanes in Echelon”, where an undulating wave of guitar noise overlays a simple acoustic strum as one of the girls sings a most lovely tune. Listening to Tunabunny, it’s a little tricky to pin down one exact reference point. The clerk I spoke to, though, described it as a “mash-up of Wire’s Pink Flag and 154”, and that’s not too far off from my impression. Then again, you tune in to “Form A Line”’s motoric rhythm, and you hear a bit of krautrock; on the sleepy “Wrong Kind of Attention”, you sense a bit of the New York underground creeping in. (However, hear the track through, and you’ll hear a bit of Georgia bleeding through. Fauna, that is.) Either way you slice it, Tunabunny constantly fascinate and enthrall the listener with their wide range of indie style. Really, dudes, if you can get your mitts on this lil’ album – and indeed, it IS little, since it’s just a slick paper sleeve – you’d best do so. You can order this and Tunabunny's other two releases on their label's website (HHBTM); you can also look up Genius Fatigue on Spotify. |
Mutineers – Indie rock band out of Manchester with storytelling sensibility. At once, their frontman’s vocals remind me instantly of Edwyn Collin’s earnest and wide-eyed approach, or Lloyd Cole’s intimate style; the band, however, are bright and slick, anthemic and pop-ready. Guitars are clear and predictable, the drums steady and even more predictable, but the touches of keyboards that light up across this debut album, Friends, Lovers, Rivals, add refreshing sparkle.
“Infidelity”, the opener, launches forth with a slick, danceable groove and full, moving synths, merging oh-so-well with the soulful lyrics. “One Last Chance” follows in the same vein, but also features an (admittedly!) catchy chorus. Other tracks, like “Apologies”, are pleasant examples of rock ballads that the Strokes have probably tried countless times before, yet never with such approachable lyrics.
In essence, though the Mutineers’ sound is nothing new, their lack of snotty pretentiousness is very, very soothing. At the moment, Friends, Lovers, Rivals is chiefly a digital release, so find it on Spotify or grab it on iTunes.
“Infidelity”, the opener, launches forth with a slick, danceable groove and full, moving synths, merging oh-so-well with the soulful lyrics. “One Last Chance” follows in the same vein, but also features an (admittedly!) catchy chorus. Other tracks, like “Apologies”, are pleasant examples of rock ballads that the Strokes have probably tried countless times before, yet never with such approachable lyrics.
In essence, though the Mutineers’ sound is nothing new, their lack of snotty pretentiousness is very, very soothing. At the moment, Friends, Lovers, Rivals is chiefly a digital release, so find it on Spotify or grab it on iTunes.