Review: The skittering drums, sweet nihilistic croons and chiming melodies of Dublin three-piece Villagers make it six albums in eight years. It clearly remains, then, that they are sweethearts of the label, and they squeeze everyone's most trusted vital organ once more by romancing our chest plates with numbers like "Again" and "Fool". There are more experimental dream sequences to be heard in tracks like "Love Came With All That It Brings" though, but back on track you'll find the more feel good in "Real Go-Getter" and "Ada". But really it's about the gnarly synth jam that is this album's title track.
Review: Now pushing a terrifying fifty-five years into their career, one would be forgiven for thinking there would be precious few tricks up the sleeves of the so-called 'Strollin' Bones'. Yet they've confounded expectations by not only returning to their blues roots but in delivering their best record in at least half that stretch. Who knows whether the grit and raunch that originally inspired the ingrates back in the early-'60s has infused these readings with a timeless charge, or whether the band chemistry has simply been re-ignited by this old-as-the-hills yet fresh-as-a-daisy approach. All we can tell is that Keith and Ron's guitars have rarely sounded as sharp, nor the band this electrifying this century, and the 73-year-old Mick Jagger in 2016 has the strut and self-possession of a man one third his age.
Nobody Wants To Be Here & Nobody Wants To Leave (3:01)
Last January (4:33)
It Never Was The Same (4:18)
Pills I Swallow (3:56)
I Could Give You All That You Don't Want (4:20)
Drown So I Can Watch (2:57)
The Airport (4:06)
Leave The House (4:28)
I Couldn't Say It To Your Face (2:45)
Review: Purveyors of a uniquely Caledonian form of melodic melancholy, The Twilight Sad have delighted many with their last few albums, and none more so than the fearsome guitar-fuelled fury and emotional wallop of 2013's 'Nobody Wants To Be Here And Nobody Wants To Leave'. Moreover, this acoustic live recording, captured for posterity at a Glaswegian art space, captures the band stripped-down, vulnerable and at their best - the spare approach herein displays a band who've made tender vulnerability and heartfelt intensity their calling cards, not to mention the reasons why The Twilight Sad's fanbase are quite so obsessive.
Review: Swedish duo Death and Vanilla, who apparently take their name from a Nick Cave song, are purveyors of a very particular kind of psychedelia, one that takes its cues from the more exotic, esoteric and experimental strains whose lineage began with United States Of America and Silver Apples and later found powerful adherents in Broadcast. As rich in celestial arrangement and atmosphere as it is in melody and instrumentation, 'To Where The Wild Things Are' is possessed of a sepia-tinted melancholy and a narcotic charm. A better display of sonic super-8 B-movie radiance would be hard to find in 2015.