Braids - Native Speaker Review

There are two types of songs on Native Speaker, Canadian quartet Braids’ debut album.  Both types manage to shimmer, delicate in their retina-searing brilliance, and yet, there is a marked difference between the two.
          This difference is a peculiarity in itself.  It’s a difference that you don’t usually find within a selection of songs meant to be sold together.  It’s not shallow - say, just in the style of vocals or the instruments used - and it’s not even in the song-writing or the layering of sounds or the tone of the songs. 
          What separates Braids’ 'great' songs from their 'good' is their unsuppressed - and, arguably, unsurpassed - sexuality.  Seriously.  This is no joke.  Braids bring a whole new meaning to the term ‘aural stimulation’.  
          In fact, at moments, their music is so awash in a tide of sensuality - so fulsome and flirtatious - that it's near impossible to keep your cool as you listen.
          This, at first, seems just like a difference in the composition and tone of the music, but the smouldering atmosphere that Braids create on these tracks is mesmerising.  The raw tension that builds in these songs - in Native Speaker and Lammicken- seems to flood the remainder of the album in latent sexuality.  It’s these songs, humming with desire, that create a foundation for the rest of the album to be built upon.
          This sexuality, however, is not that NIN 'Closer' sexuality we are all so… fond of.  I can assure you there's no 'I want to fuck you like an animal' here.  
          Well ok - so there may be a hint of 'I wanna feel you from the inside' but Braids’ style of music is somewhat more refined than NIN.  Though you may catch Raphaelle Standell-Preston singing 'Have you fucked all the stray kids yet?' or 'Of having you inside me', she lives up her name - her voice soaring with the purity of an angel both in tone and innocence.  Even when unashamedly exploring sex, the band maintains what is almost a pure promiscuity (a saintly smuttiness, perhaps?).  
          What I'm trying to say is that there is nothing dirty about Braids music (though I can't vouch for Braids themselves) and you just can't help but feel that the tone of the album comes not from sexual debauchery, but from their total honesty in handling emotions and desires.
          On a more basic level, though, Braids' sound is all about rolling, tidal, undulation - whether in obvious vocal and instrumental patterns or in the slow climax and anti-climax of their song structures - and they use soft, subterranean instrumentation to produce the hazy twilight of desirous tones that perpetuates their music.  Though some songs are more upbeat and self-propelling, you can always feel that undercurrent of motion - the rhythmic, rapturous progression of their love.
          Don’t get me wrong - the entire album isn't just one sexual fantasy.  I don’t even want to get into the difficulties of sexualising Same Mum.  But, regardless, there is a perceivably amorous atmosphere.  I might be coming across as some kind of hormonal teenage boy right about now, but before you judge me listen to the album.  Just listen.
          Lammicken is bone-tingling; passionately moaning into life; shuddering with inevitability as the song’s single lyric 'I can't stop it.' is transformed - Preston playfully experimenting with her heady vocals.  This stuff is porn for your damn ears - building slowly and subtly into a shrieking climax, then subsiding, leaving you, emotionally spent, to reflect upon its ecstasy.
          The title track, Native Speaker, is also titillating in every way - from its lurching, velvet backing, to its sensual lyrics - and once again the vocals writhe with delight.  When Raphaelle croons ‘But my my my my my... it feels good.’ it’s as if she is pouring her sweat-inducing fantasies into your eager ears and you‘re trapped - unable to do anything but lap up her rapturous secrets with the insatiable appetite of an illicit lover.  

Album Review: Smoke Ring For My Halo - Kurt Vile

Even us mixed-race music geeks love a bit of skinny, white indie trash - and it doesn't get much more skinny and white than Kurt Vile.  Just seeing him hunched over his guitar with his fingerless gloves and long, face-obscuring hair is enough to misguide the inattentive listener.  Don't get me wrong, though, I wouldn't chuck Kurt into the 'trash' category - in fact, Smoke Ring For My Halo is the best album I've heard this year.

Vile, who was guitarist for indie rockers The War on Drugs, has been producing solo music since 2008, but Smoke Ring has seen him shoot into the limelight with unusual velocity.  Receiving an 8.4 and the coveted 'Best New Music' label from Pitchfork, as well as (almost) entirely unanimous positive reviews elsewhere can't have hindered his rise, but it's more than that.  Smoke Ring has a depth of character that far surpasses any album I have heard in recent times - Vile creates and inhabits a new persona for each song, adding emotional credibility to his American drawl.

In Baby's Arms he is a naive, love-forsaken soul trying to convince himself he'll 'never ever be alone'; in Peeping Tomboy, Vile sculpts his character contrarily: 'I don't want to change, but I don't want to stay the same.', 'Now I want to go but it's a one way street with me.'.  What links all his characters is an underlying sense of innocence and inexperience - Vile's music is undoubtedly endearing and heartfelt.  The pinnacle of his songcraft is On Tour, a green-fuelled haze of guitar and vocals.  Vile sings out 'I got it made... most of the time.' not with anguish or joy, but with deadpan accuracy.  What makes the song so effective is that the rise and fall of the melody matches with the lyrical content.

This is not an album that you listen to when you want to wallow in your despair.  It's not an album you listen to when you need a pick-me-up.  It's an album you listen to in carefree admiration - an album you devote attention to.  It's an album that will no doubt be a stoner favourite, but it's also an album that everyone (including Pitchfork) has seriously underrated.

Check out Vile on Pitchfork TV here.

Ghost Town isn't mentioned in the review but is another stand-out track from the album:

Kurt Vile - Ghost Town by maybemayest

The Age of Adz - Sufjan Stevens

I have been a big Sufjan Stevens fan for a long time and I am yet to dislike an album he has released. The critically acclaimed Detroit-born artist has long been a cult favourite, and to me (being part of the aforementioned cult) has been unwavering in his high quality output of music. The Age of Adz only consolidates his position in my mind, as it is another album of immense scope that he has pulled off immaculately.

Taking elements of the banjo-laden, acoustic tracks of Michigan and the orchestral grandeur of Illinoise he has mixed them with a myriad of electronic beats and synths - creating probably his most experimental album to date. It is very different to his previous work and even though you can still pick out trumpets, violins, guitars, piano and the other instruments we expect from him, they are often carefully layered or hidden behind an electronic haze. This dramatic change could shock some die-hard fans, but if you invest your time generously into listening then you will see the true beauty of the songs and arrangements.

Lyrically, Sufjan has taken a different approach to his previous albums - before, the emotion in the songs would be rooted in geographical or historical context, whereas in Adz we tend to see the raw feeling untempered by context. This is neither enhancing nor depreciating to his music - it is just, perhaps, a hint as to how he is evolving and experimenting. How he is not willing to stay static for too long.

The first single I Walked is an electronically emotional lament with Sufjan’s gentle voice rising and falling over the beat. It’s catchy yet meaningful, each layer combining to drive the song (gently) forward. However, there are some album tracks that far surpass it. The title track is a writhing, dramatic number where you see all of the usual orchestral components combining with heavy beats, cascading synths and a catchy chorus-sung hook. I Want To Be Well maintains a swift tempo yet slowly builds into an emotional crescendo - the chorus repeating the title and Sufjan, as far as I know, swearing for the first time on a track : ‘I’m not f***ing around’. There is something so earnest about this that it seems to exude emotional charge.

Impossible Soul, a twenty-five-minute tour de force at the end of the album sums up the collection as a whole. It may seem like a large investment at first, but you will find yourself more and more willing to return - each listen granting you new revelations.

For Emma, Forever Ago - Bon Iver

For Emma, Forever Ago, the debut album by Bon Iver (Justin Vernon) released in the UK in 2008, is not an album you can listen to lightly. The songs demand attention to be truly appreciated.

The simple rhythmic strumming of the guitar and the periods of unaccompanied singing add a stripped quality to the music; Vernon’s quivering falsetto delivers unbridled emotion. There is no doubt that its production has played a massive part in this album’s success. Written and recorded by Justin Vernon in a log cabin in northwest Wisconsin, the album is extremely minimalistic – consisting mainly of Vernon’s voice creeping over deep, earthy acoustic guitar. The raw power transmitted by the untouched, unpolished quality of the sound is truly incredible.

It is this quality that separates him from the rest of his contemporaries and makes the album so incredibly moving. Vernon has poured all his life’s heartache into 9 songs.

The highlights include opener Flume, which makes up for its somewhat ambiguous lyrics ("Only love is all maroon/ Lapping lakes like leery loons") with a stunningly beautiful melody. The trumpets and guitar in For Emma are also wonderful – free to weave in and out of Vernon’s vocals, dancing around the rest of the accompaniment. However, the masterpiece of the album comes at the end. Re: Stacks, the epitome of everything Bon Iver, is a gentle lament over a night of drunken gambling ("There’s a black crow sitting across from me/ His wiry legs are crossed/ He’s dangling my keys/ He even fakes a toss"). The chorus is a short, sweet number surrounded by the long, languishing verse.

The album is worth every second invested. It's an album filled with melancholy, heartbroken, world-weary songs. If you are yet to experience Bon Iver (one of the minority) then go look him up. For fans of Fleet Foxes, Goldheart Assembly, Grizzly Bear and Laura Marling

Top Songs: Skinny Love, For Emma, Re:stacks, Flume

Also, check out La Blogotheque on youtube for some awesome videos of Bon Iver playing live. As well as other bands like Fleet Foxes and Phoenix. Their "Take Away Show" series is really great.

The Alchemy Index - Thrice

Thrice's 6^th and 7^th albums, fully released back in 2008, formed their eagerly awaited Alchemy Index – an ambitious project which saw the band compose a set of six songs for each of the four elements: fire, water, earth and air.

Fire and Water, the first half, is a contrasting combination – sticking to the Thrice’s heavy, hardcore roots in Fire, and then departing into the ambient, swelling tones of Water.

Fire, although the weakest, least subtle of their elements, is still powerful. Thrice are raw and unpolished here – their guitars overdriven, Kensrue vocals roaring and raging overhead. Most of the album is stunningly distorted and the guitar and drums are driving forces that break down all barriers to the emotion in Dustin’s voice. The atmosphere is maintained dramatically – gang vocals, chanting and repetition all adding to the urgency and anger of it all. The Flame Deluge is a brilliant closing – all static and distortion whilst the lyrics are left unfathomable. The drumming is absolutely epic and the emotion is uncurbed and scathing – you burn with anger and are sated by the gentle finale. Firebreather is a juggernaut of an opener, the guitar pounding, Kensrue demanding:

"Tell me are you free?

In word or thought or deed?"

Water recalls Vheissu’s Atlantic and For Miles, with swelling, synthesised tones – making use of Teppei’s talent on the keyboard. It is this bleak contrast with Fire that makes the combination work so well. The single, Digital Sea, is a marvellous, pulsating joy for the ears. The synth backing, jerking drumming and scarred melody come together so perfectly. The use of a walkie talkie to distort the vocals is also inspired. It’s rivalled only by Song for Milly. Night Diving has to be mentioned. A heavier instrumental that is crafted magnificently to keep in with its element, it explores a totally different side of Water - one less melancholy, less dampened and less restrained.

Air and Earth, their most recent offering has seen them depart from their past style. They leave the more conventional sounds of Vheissu and The Artist and the Ambulance to venture into a more mature, more versatile style.

Earth is a folksy, stripped down selection - the drums carving out simple patterns and the guitars humming below Dustin’s voice as it breaks with emotion. The lyrics, often Biblical, seem capture the essence of the Earth – whether in the cry of: “Come all you weary/ Come gather round near me” or in the childish, yet disturbing Lion and the Wolf: “And both the wolf and lion crave the same thing in the end”. The highlight of these six songs comes from Moving Mountains – the lament of a man of faith who doesn’t “know the first thing about love”. Lion and the Wolf is a twisted nursery-rhyme styled story told by the band in a way to disturb anyone who listens carefully. The piano circles around you, the lyrics paint a gruesome picture and the vocals mock.

Air, befittingly, is lighter and subtler than Earth – superior also. Dustin’s vocals soar free over the soft patter of the drumming and the gentle picking of the guitar. The lyrics jump from the political in Broken Lungs (Are we fools and cowards all/ To let them cover up their lies?) to the mythological in Daedalus (But I’ve got a plan with some wax and some string/ Feathers I stole from the birds) – and they pull it off well. Song for Milly Michaelson is probably the best song in the whole Index - Kensrue’s voice lilting over the slow, pulsing, trickling guitar. The lyrics are so purely, beautifully innocent: “I love the night/ Flying over these city lights/ But I love you most of all”. Daedalus’ crescendo is thundering and dripping with emotion – anger and sorrow pervading the band’s sound.

The Alchemy Index contains some of their best songs to date, but I’m not so sure that it matches the consistent genius found in Vheissu. If you’re a fan of heavier stuff go for Vheissu, but if, like me, you prefer something a bit mellower, then the Alchemy Index is a great album to get your hands on.

Top Songs: A Song for Milly Michaelson, Daedalus, Moving Mountains, Digital Sea, The Whaler, Firebreather, Come All You Weary