Another day, another split. This one comes from the heady halls of the UK’s Soft Power Records, bringing the nations together since Andy Murray (what do you mean, he’s Scottish? He’s bloody British I’ll have you know!) This awesome album sees London 60s power pop psych acolytes The Wharves with Glasgow’s own beguiling scuzz lizards The Rosy Crucifixion, with electric results.
The Wharves’ side undulates from the Warpaint-swirl of ‘Thick Syrup’, the sunny bounce of ‘Unhand Me’, the seductive blues swirl of ‘Motif’, the Kim Deal-meets-Led Zeppelin dirge ‘Woodchip’, the beautiful pastoral effort ‘Past Life 1887’ – all strengthened by the double-helix soar of twin vocalists Gemma Fleet (bass) and Dearbhla Minogue (guitar) and pounding metronome of Marion Andreau’s drumming propels everything down the rabbithole. It’s exhilarating stuff, especially the haunting grind of closer ‘Deepwater Horizon’, and this is greatly tempered by the rusted coil sensual tension inherent with The Rosy Crucifixion’s efforts.
Emily MacLaren’s guitar lines are sinful as hell, and that voice has been gilded by the Devil himself to ruin many a good man, myself included. ‘Do You Right’, ‘Lose Yourself’, ‘Sinners’, ‘Hot In Your Head’ – this shit should be illegal for the virile masses (I’m glad it isn’t though – any more illicit and I’d perish). Stuart Evans’ bass follows the cues, making the debasement unavoidable, before Conal Blake pummels you into submission, the trio stealing your wallet and dignity but not your smile and eternal thanks.
You can get the split 12” here – great stuff. The Wharves are playing in London tonight to launch the split at The Macbeth, alongside Warm Brains, Blood Of The Bull and Gold Bars. See you there.
I'm a massive fan of psychedelic rock music of all kinds, but especially the heavier, dirgier kind. I think the genesis of this may have come with discovering Led Zeppelin with my dad (who, whilst not a musical aficionado, did also introduce me to Johnny Cash, Australian Crawl, The Boss and 'Brothers In Arms' era Dire Straits, which I still have a soft spot for). The first album I can recall truly grabbing me in this mould though was The Warlocks' Rise & Fall, which was playing at the old Rockinghorse Records store PA back in 2002 (and a record very close to my heart). I've been a hapless acolyte ever since...
I haven't had the pleasure of bathing in the cavernous dirge of Jason Simon and his Dead Meadow brethren as yet - but again I have a sort of origin story for these guys too. Before wholesale piracy was passe, I remember being stuck out in the middle of nowhere in 2003 (Roma, Queensland to be exact) on my first stationed education position with nothing to do, so I delved into Amazon's then music website, CDNow. I discovered some pretty amazing things that year through that thing (Neutral Milk Hotel, Explosions In The Sky, Mono, ...And You Will Know Us By The Trail Of Dead), one of them also being Dead Meadow's third LP Shivering Kings & Others. From there it was The Black Angels, Black Mountain - further down the spiral I would go.
As the years have gone by I have drifted somewhat from the "lightening" of Dead Meadow's aesthetic - despite the excellence of Feathers (2005), 2008's Old Growth didn't grab me at all, whilst I only gave 2010's Three Kings a cursory once-over. I have to say though that new album Warble Womb is a true return to form (some people will strenuously argue that the form never dissipated - whatever). Certainly more sonorous and less kosmiche than compatriots Wooden Shjips, Dead Meadow does have the same propensity for creating a cyclical, familiar groove that permeates their records - Warble Womb is no exception. But when you have the lackadaisical, off-kilter wooze of a track like 'Mr Chesty' or a roiling magma purge like 'This Song Is Over', you can't deny the trio's inimitable power. And this might be a bit of cribbing (who doesn't in this genre?), but 'I'm Cured' sounds like the sun-blasted paisley malaise of The Warlocks - full circle.
They aren't mellowing out so much as becoming one with their mystical powers, and Warble Womb may be the moment that I fuse with them. They are still masters of the domain, after all...
I stumbled over this Texan thrashy garage psych band a couple months ago, they're called π(pronounced Pi) and they have whipped out two EPs since September. The latest one came out in March, it's called Ubik, and it wails all over the place. Surely must be Hendrix heathens, lovers of the Leddest of the Zeppelins, Creedance creepoids, Black Sabbath worshippers...and are probably librarians. You can get their gear for the price of genital warts, if you knock on their trailer door - or for free, if you go here.
I do love my 70s rock. As cliched as people try to make Led Zeppelin/Black Sabbath/et al out to be, they knew how to make fucking great rock music. There are many bands that take elements of these gods and make them their own - White Hills comes to mind of a band that I have seen recently that invoked that feeling - but only a few fully embrace it and come out on top.
Earl Greyhound is one of them.
Originally a two-piece consisting of Matt Whyte and Kamara Thomas, they have been kicking around since 2002 in NYC. They brought in a drummer, Chris Bear, but he left the band in 2005 to try his luck with a little known band called Grizzly Bear. However it wasnt long before they caught the eye of The Root's guitarist Kirk Douglass, who introduced them to friend and Gold Crowns drummer Ricc Sheridan. The line-up became complete.
They have just released an LP, Suspicious Package.
Im a huge fan of Low, and therefore a huge fan of Alan Sparhawk.Not the biggest fan of the band’s sound/genre moniker – slowcore- but that is not the band’s fault in the slightest.They have made an indelible mark on the indie scene for the past 15 years.And it is of immense pleasure that I can say that they are performing their 2004 masterpiece The Great Destroyer in its entirety at Barcelona’s incendiary Primavera Sound festival this May.It is on this record that we get more of a sense of Sparhawk’s rocking sensibilities, and whilst tapered down for the simmering menace inherent in Low's follow up album Drums & Guns, it was only a matter of time before it all came bubbling to the surface.
And so it is with Sparhawk’s side project, Retribution Gospel Choir. Sparhawk, along with Steve Garrington and Eric Pollard, have created a rollicking record that incorporates Low's song structure and sensibilities, but with the amps opened up, allowing for Sparhawk to let loose on all the aggression that is meticulously maintained in his 'day band'. This is certainly evident in the penultimate song Electric Guitar, a 8 minute sprawler that evokes Low in almost every way, except for the soaring finale. Its almost like Low is the sexual prelude, the major prick tease, whilst RGC is Sparhawk's money shot.
In saying all that, it must be said that 2 doesnt offer us all that much outside of what Low offers in the first place. Granted, absent is the gradual building of pressure inherent within the framework of Low's songs, with these taking more of a leaf out of bands like Crazy Horse in their guitar fuelled wig outs. 43 second short stop '68 Comeback is exactly that - harking back to the rock of yore, evoking a little Led Zep or Black Sabbath, albeit in bite-size format. Single Hide It Away is a great opener - a soaring shimmering gem of a song that builds in radiant glory around a beautiful and joyous melody, double helixing into the sun - a true kicking off the shackles of Low. But what must be remembered that live, Low know exactly how to temper their dark menacing songs, their slow crawlers, ekeing out the tension before exploding - in some cases, such as 08's End of the Road festival, LITERALLY - into bursts of glorious, visceral, melodic, feedback drenched violence. So songs such as Poor Man's Daughter and Your Bird arent that far removed. Not that this is in any way a disservice to RGC - it just proves to underscore the notion that the band really is Sparhawk's energy outlet.
Except for the closer. It has been a song that has perplexed critics thus far, not because its difficult to understand, interpret or justify - more in that its difficult to grasp how it works within the scheme of things. Essentially, Bless Us All is a Low song, through and through - and yet you cant help to note that it isnt, that the only place this song belongs is right here, bookending 2's set of Neil Young's Ol' Black era guitar noodlings (especially Workin Hard) and squalling rock jams with a dark, haunting ode to loss. It begins with the whisperings of strings and the murmurings of talkback radio, before Sparhawk's wavering voice kicks in. Backing vocalists chime in near the end, evoking the choir that their moniker espouses. It is like Low, then? True...but it is so much more affecting, so sad, that it takes the breath away, immediately stealing the mantle of song of the album.
So, 2 sees Low in a more rocking, balls out style, tied together by Sparhawk's songwriting sensibilities, but still offering more than just a louder version of their songs. And whilst not reaching the heights of the admittedly unique highs of Low, Sparhawk has created an album that excites, and elicits excitement in where he may spread his wings next time.
And sorry to glut this article up with visuals, but watch the comparison between Low and RGC - both brilliant songs, both wildly contrasting levels of 'restraint'...
