And so to the ten finest records released this year...
10. FOALS: Total Life Forever
9. SURFER BLOOD: Astro Coast
8. FRIGHTENED RABBIT: The Winter of Mixed Drinks
7. FAKE PROBLEMS: Real Ghosts Caught On Tape
6. TITUS ANDRONICUS: The Monitor
5. THE GASLIGHT ANTHEM: American Slang
4. VILLAGERS: Becoming A Jackal
3. THE XCERTS: Scatterbrain
2. AGAINST ME!: White Crosses
1. THE NATIONAL: High Violet
Tuesday, 28 December 2010
Monday, 27 December 2010
Top 75 Albums of 2010: 40-11
40. MINUS THE BEAR: OMNI
39. SUNDOWNER: We Chase The Waves
38. BLOOD RED SHOES: Fire Like This
37. FAR: At Night We Live
36. LOCAL NATIVES: Gorilla Manor
35. LOS CAMPESINOS!: Romance Is Boring
34. BEACH HOUSE: Teen Dream
33. DINOSAUR PILE-UP: Growing Pains
32. DIVE DIVE: Potential
31. MALE BONDING: Anything Hurts
30. INTERPOL: Interpol
29. COMEBACK KID: Symptoms and Cures
28. THESE NEW PURITANS: Hidden
27. BROKEN SOCIAL SCENE: Forgiveness Rock Record
26. 65DAYSOFSTATIC: We Were Exploding Anyway
25. THE DILLINGER ESCAPE PLAN: Option Paralysis
24. DEFTONES: Diamond Eyes
23. AVI BUFFALO: Avi Buffalo
22. THE BLACK KEYS: Brothers
21. THE TALLEST MAN ON EARTH: The Wild Hunt
20. TWO DOOR CINEMA CLUB: Tourist History
19. MIDLAKE: The Courage of Others
18. VAMPIRE WEEKEND: Contra
17. LES SAVY FAV: Root For Ruin
16. THE KISSAWAY TRAIL: Sleep Mountain
15. BOMBAY BICYCLE CLUB: Flaws
14. BAD BOOKS: Bad Books
13. MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE: Danger Days (The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys)
12. PULLED APART BY HORSES: Pulled Apart By Horses
11. ARCADE FIRE: The Suburbs
39. SUNDOWNER: We Chase The Waves
38. BLOOD RED SHOES: Fire Like This
37. FAR: At Night We Live
36. LOCAL NATIVES: Gorilla Manor
35. LOS CAMPESINOS!: Romance Is Boring
34. BEACH HOUSE: Teen Dream
33. DINOSAUR PILE-UP: Growing Pains
32. DIVE DIVE: Potential
31. MALE BONDING: Anything Hurts
30. INTERPOL: Interpol
29. COMEBACK KID: Symptoms and Cures
28. THESE NEW PURITANS: Hidden
27. BROKEN SOCIAL SCENE: Forgiveness Rock Record
26. 65DAYSOFSTATIC: We Were Exploding Anyway
25. THE DILLINGER ESCAPE PLAN: Option Paralysis
24. DEFTONES: Diamond Eyes
23. AVI BUFFALO: Avi Buffalo
22. THE BLACK KEYS: Brothers
21. THE TALLEST MAN ON EARTH: The Wild Hunt
20. TWO DOOR CINEMA CLUB: Tourist History
19. MIDLAKE: The Courage of Others
18. VAMPIRE WEEKEND: Contra
17. LES SAVY FAV: Root For Ruin
16. THE KISSAWAY TRAIL: Sleep Mountain
15. BOMBAY BICYCLE CLUB: Flaws
14. BAD BOOKS: Bad Books
13. MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE: Danger Days (The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys)
12. PULLED APART BY HORSES: Pulled Apart By Horses
11. ARCADE FIRE: The Suburbs
Sunday, 26 December 2010
Top 75 Albums of 2010: 75-41
75. CROCODILES: Sleep Forever
74. RAZORBAX: Something To Believe In
73. BAD RELIGION: The Process of Belief
72. THE WALKMEN: Lisbon
71. THE FLATLINERS: Cavalcade
70. THE MORNING BENDERS: Big Echo
69. DUM DUM GIRLS: I Will Be
68. WEEZER: Hurley
67. THE RIOT BEFORE: Rebellion
66. OF MONTREAL: False Priest
65. ALKALINE TRIO: This Addiction
64. SMOKE OR FIRE: The Speakeasy
63. PORTUGAL, THE MAN: American Ghetto
62. THE SWELLERS: Ups and Downsizing
61. THE UNWINDING HOURS: The Unwinding Hours
60. WE ARE SCIENTISTS: Barbara
59. MANIC STREET PREACHERS: Postcards From A Young Man
58. BELLE AND SEBASTIAN: Write About Love
57. WOMEN: Public Strain
56. THE DEAD WEATHER: Sea Cowards
55. EELS: End Times
54. FIRST AID KIT: The Big Black and the Blue
53. PERFUME GENIUS: Learning
52. SLEIGH BELLS: Treats
51. MOTION CITY SOUNDTRACK: My Dinosaur Life
50. WEEZER: Death To False Metal
49. EVERYTHING EVERYTHING: Man Alive
48. EDWYN COLLINS: Losing Sleep
47. JIMMY EAT WORLD: Invented
46. SUFJAN STEVENS: The Age of Adz
45. BAND OF HORSES: Infinite Arms
44. THE FALL: Your Future, Our Clutter
43. EELS: Tomorrow Morning
42. JOANNA NEWSOM: Have One On Me
41. OFF WITH THEIR HEADS: In Desolation
74. RAZORBAX: Something To Believe In
73. BAD RELIGION: The Process of Belief
72. THE WALKMEN: Lisbon
71. THE FLATLINERS: Cavalcade
70. THE MORNING BENDERS: Big Echo
69. DUM DUM GIRLS: I Will Be
68. WEEZER: Hurley
67. THE RIOT BEFORE: Rebellion
66. OF MONTREAL: False Priest
65. ALKALINE TRIO: This Addiction
64. SMOKE OR FIRE: The Speakeasy
63. PORTUGAL, THE MAN: American Ghetto
62. THE SWELLERS: Ups and Downsizing
61. THE UNWINDING HOURS: The Unwinding Hours
60. WE ARE SCIENTISTS: Barbara
59. MANIC STREET PREACHERS: Postcards From A Young Man
58. BELLE AND SEBASTIAN: Write About Love
57. WOMEN: Public Strain
56. THE DEAD WEATHER: Sea Cowards
55. EELS: End Times
54. FIRST AID KIT: The Big Black and the Blue
53. PERFUME GENIUS: Learning
52. SLEIGH BELLS: Treats
51. MOTION CITY SOUNDTRACK: My Dinosaur Life
50. WEEZER: Death To False Metal
49. EVERYTHING EVERYTHING: Man Alive
48. EDWYN COLLINS: Losing Sleep
47. JIMMY EAT WORLD: Invented
46. SUFJAN STEVENS: The Age of Adz
45. BAND OF HORSES: Infinite Arms
44. THE FALL: Your Future, Our Clutter
43. EELS: Tomorrow Morning
42. JOANNA NEWSOM: Have One On Me
41. OFF WITH THEIR HEADS: In Desolation
Shackled to the road
At the close of 2010, I will have travelled a sum total of 18,831 miles (roughly) outside of Newcastle. Well bugger me sideways.
http://www.travellerspoint.com/member_map.cfm?user=screenaged
http://www.travellerspoint.com/member_map.cfm?user=screenaged
Boxing Day 15 (#12: 26/12/10)
1. Bomb the Music Industry!: Big Ending
2. MC Lars: Internet Relationships Are Not Real Relationships
3. Flogging Molly: Man With No Country
4. James: Waterfall
5. Nerf Herder: Garage Sale
6. Against Me!: Ache With Me
7. School of Seven Bells: Connjur
8. Green Day: Walking Alone
9. Mansun: Soundtrack 4 2 Lovers
10. Therapy?: Straight Life
11. No Use For A Name: Black Box
12. Green Day: Horseshoes and Handgrenades
13. New Found Glory: Love Fool
14. The Wannadies: How Does It Feel?
15. Tegan & Sara: Someday
2. MC Lars: Internet Relationships Are Not Real Relationships
3. Flogging Molly: Man With No Country
4. James: Waterfall
5. Nerf Herder: Garage Sale
6. Against Me!: Ache With Me
7. School of Seven Bells: Connjur
8. Green Day: Walking Alone
9. Mansun: Soundtrack 4 2 Lovers
10. Therapy?: Straight Life
11. No Use For A Name: Black Box
12. Green Day: Horseshoes and Handgrenades
13. New Found Glory: Love Fool
14. The Wannadies: How Does It Feel?
15. Tegan & Sara: Someday
Saturday, 25 December 2010
Review: Futurefest 2 (The Futureheads/Frankie and the Heartstrings/Little Comets et al, Newcastle O2 Academies 1 and 2, 23/12/10)
Hot on the heels of last year's rip-roaring success of a soirée, the North East's favourite post-punk indie noiseniks are back for another round of pre-Christmas pints in the air, arms around mates frivolity and just like 09, they've brought a boatload of bezzie friends along for the ride.
Regrettably, fellow Sunderland stalwarts Coal Train (terrible, terrible name, guys) fail to translate in a half empty Academy 1, their particular brand of softer, more introspective indie rock losing a great deal of its edge in such a cavernous environment. The band's lack of animation certainly doesn't help matters; while things do become moderately interesting when the guitars are permitted to make a bit of a racket, for the most part, the band stay stock still, more intent on shoegazing than interacting with their audience. It's early days yet for these guys, of course, and their decidedly Wilco-esque ditties are well worth investigating, but tonight, Matthew, they simply don't cut the mustard.
Where The Sea Starts, on the other hand, have the hundred or so bemused punters in Academy 2 eating out of the palms of their spindly hands, despite a few unfortunate setbacks, the most notable of which is the fate that befalls a synthesizer, falling unspectacularly from the stool it is perched on halfway through the set. The boys plough on, however, creating thirty minutes of intriguingly oblique math-rock soundscapes, cut from the same cloth as Battles and, even more interestingly, American prog-punk pioneers Minus the Bear. Newcastle doesn't really know how to react at first - the tempo is awkward, the beats out of time - but WTSS win us over with their sheer, unrelenting skill. There's some seriously impressive musicianship in this ragtag-looking bunch and while their unusual output may not exactly have crossover appeal, they're certainly a darn sight more interesting than Coal Train.
At the opposite end of the spectrum, Frankie and the Heartstrings unleash half an hour of purest pop on an impressively substantial crowd, firing off addictive choruses and irresistible hooks like there's no tomorrow. Frankie pouts, preens and flounces around the stage throughout, bearing all the hallmarks of a 1980s Morrissey (minus the obligatory flora and fauna) and providing the 'sex' quotient promised by their self-created record label. It's a winning combination, effortless in its simplicity; with tracks as ludicrously straightforward as 'Ungrateful' and 'Hunger' - all you really need to learn are a few 'oh ohhhhh oh's - these boys will surely go far. Look out for the debut LP, due for release in early 2011. It's gonna be massive.
The deliciously spiky Little Comets are going to be huge too... so much so, in fact, that Academy 2 is so packed before they've even played a note that security are turning people away. Consequently, we're unable to witness their undoubtedly splendid set, but we'll settle for another quick listen to the wonderful 'Isles', one of the year's very best singles, on our respective iPods before the main attraction. Fortunately, within minutes of Ross's gangly frame meandering stage-left, the collective disappointment at being turned away from the upstairs room is quickly forgotten and the party truly begins. There's no dicking around from our headliners this evening: Barry, resplendent in sparkly suit and still sporting that ludicrous quiff, launches headfirst into the familiar opening bars of indie pop gem 'The Beginning of the Twist' with barely time for a hello, and the 'bouncy bouncing' (their words, not ours) begins. Four albums and countless globetrotting tours in, and The Futureheads are one well-oiled, super-slick rock 'n' roll juggernaut, tighter than a badger's proverbial and masters at giving their insatiable crowd just what they want, when they need it most.
The set worms its way through their rich back catalogue, firing away hit after hit but peppering proceedings with the occasional newbie from recent release 'The Chaos'. Predictably, it's lead single 'Heartbeat Song' that receives the warmest reaction, although the eponymous track rocks like a bastard this evening too. Still, it's the early material we really want and the boys don't disappoint: 'Robot', 'Carnival Kids', 'He Knows', 'Meantime', a brilliantly sexy 'Decent Days and Nights', hell, even once-in-a-blue-moon non-album single 'Area': they're all here, dusted down, polished up and unleashed in a torrent of extra-spiky, ultra-scuzzy guitar noise. There's 'Hounds of Love' too, of course, but that's a given. The masses lap it up, and the guys do their usual, by now slightly predictable 'split the crowd down the middle' schtick, but it's the other classics that are the highlight , and the icing on the proverbial cake comes with closer 'Christmas in the 1980s', the band's very own Yuletide ditty. It's a fitting end, reminding us why we're gathered here in the first place and setting the scene for the days to come.
So, another year, another Futurefest, another bevvy of brilliant bands (well, mostly) thrown together under one roof and given the chance to shine. The Futureheads may be the masters of their craft but there's plenty other bright stars here to watch out for too. Futurefest 3 can't come soon enough.
Regrettably, fellow Sunderland stalwarts Coal Train (terrible, terrible name, guys) fail to translate in a half empty Academy 1, their particular brand of softer, more introspective indie rock losing a great deal of its edge in such a cavernous environment. The band's lack of animation certainly doesn't help matters; while things do become moderately interesting when the guitars are permitted to make a bit of a racket, for the most part, the band stay stock still, more intent on shoegazing than interacting with their audience. It's early days yet for these guys, of course, and their decidedly Wilco-esque ditties are well worth investigating, but tonight, Matthew, they simply don't cut the mustard.
Where The Sea Starts, on the other hand, have the hundred or so bemused punters in Academy 2 eating out of the palms of their spindly hands, despite a few unfortunate setbacks, the most notable of which is the fate that befalls a synthesizer, falling unspectacularly from the stool it is perched on halfway through the set. The boys plough on, however, creating thirty minutes of intriguingly oblique math-rock soundscapes, cut from the same cloth as Battles and, even more interestingly, American prog-punk pioneers Minus the Bear. Newcastle doesn't really know how to react at first - the tempo is awkward, the beats out of time - but WTSS win us over with their sheer, unrelenting skill. There's some seriously impressive musicianship in this ragtag-looking bunch and while their unusual output may not exactly have crossover appeal, they're certainly a darn sight more interesting than Coal Train.
At the opposite end of the spectrum, Frankie and the Heartstrings unleash half an hour of purest pop on an impressively substantial crowd, firing off addictive choruses and irresistible hooks like there's no tomorrow. Frankie pouts, preens and flounces around the stage throughout, bearing all the hallmarks of a 1980s Morrissey (minus the obligatory flora and fauna) and providing the 'sex' quotient promised by their self-created record label. It's a winning combination, effortless in its simplicity; with tracks as ludicrously straightforward as 'Ungrateful' and 'Hunger' - all you really need to learn are a few 'oh ohhhhh oh's - these boys will surely go far. Look out for the debut LP, due for release in early 2011. It's gonna be massive.
The deliciously spiky Little Comets are going to be huge too... so much so, in fact, that Academy 2 is so packed before they've even played a note that security are turning people away. Consequently, we're unable to witness their undoubtedly splendid set, but we'll settle for another quick listen to the wonderful 'Isles', one of the year's very best singles, on our respective iPods before the main attraction. Fortunately, within minutes of Ross's gangly frame meandering stage-left, the collective disappointment at being turned away from the upstairs room is quickly forgotten and the party truly begins. There's no dicking around from our headliners this evening: Barry, resplendent in sparkly suit and still sporting that ludicrous quiff, launches headfirst into the familiar opening bars of indie pop gem 'The Beginning of the Twist' with barely time for a hello, and the 'bouncy bouncing' (their words, not ours) begins. Four albums and countless globetrotting tours in, and The Futureheads are one well-oiled, super-slick rock 'n' roll juggernaut, tighter than a badger's proverbial and masters at giving their insatiable crowd just what they want, when they need it most.
The set worms its way through their rich back catalogue, firing away hit after hit but peppering proceedings with the occasional newbie from recent release 'The Chaos'. Predictably, it's lead single 'Heartbeat Song' that receives the warmest reaction, although the eponymous track rocks like a bastard this evening too. Still, it's the early material we really want and the boys don't disappoint: 'Robot', 'Carnival Kids', 'He Knows', 'Meantime', a brilliantly sexy 'Decent Days and Nights', hell, even once-in-a-blue-moon non-album single 'Area': they're all here, dusted down, polished up and unleashed in a torrent of extra-spiky, ultra-scuzzy guitar noise. There's 'Hounds of Love' too, of course, but that's a given. The masses lap it up, and the guys do their usual, by now slightly predictable 'split the crowd down the middle' schtick, but it's the other classics that are the highlight , and the icing on the proverbial cake comes with closer 'Christmas in the 1980s', the band's very own Yuletide ditty. It's a fitting end, reminding us why we're gathered here in the first place and setting the scene for the days to come.
So, another year, another Futurefest, another bevvy of brilliant bands (well, mostly) thrown together under one roof and given the chance to shine. The Futureheads may be the masters of their craft but there's plenty other bright stars here to watch out for too. Futurefest 3 can't come soon enough.
Christmas 15 (#11: 25/12/10)
What festive delights do you have in store, oh iPod?
1. Noah and the Whale: I Have Nothing
2. New Order: Blue Monday
3. My Morning Jacket: Aluminium Park
4. R.E.M.: Femme Fetale
5. Thrice: Music Box
6. Frenzal Rhomb: I Went Out With A Hippy and Now I Love Everyone
7. PJ Harvey: The Whores Hustle and the Hustlers Whore
8. Anti-Flag: The Consumer's Song
9. My Chemical Romance: I Never Told You What I Do For A Living
10. Skunk Anansie: Twisted (Every Day Hurts)
11. The Futureheads: Yes/No
12. Rilo Kiley: Breakin' Up
13. The Early November: I Took A Beating
14. NOFX: Showerdays
15. Manic Street Preachers: Emily
Oh come on! 'Emily'? Jesus Christ...
1. Noah and the Whale: I Have Nothing
2. New Order: Blue Monday
3. My Morning Jacket: Aluminium Park
4. R.E.M.: Femme Fetale
5. Thrice: Music Box
6. Frenzal Rhomb: I Went Out With A Hippy and Now I Love Everyone
7. PJ Harvey: The Whores Hustle and the Hustlers Whore
8. Anti-Flag: The Consumer's Song
9. My Chemical Romance: I Never Told You What I Do For A Living
10. Skunk Anansie: Twisted (Every Day Hurts)
11. The Futureheads: Yes/No
12. Rilo Kiley: Breakin' Up
13. The Early November: I Took A Beating
14. NOFX: Showerdays
15. Manic Street Preachers: Emily
Oh come on! 'Emily'? Jesus Christ...
Friday, 24 December 2010
Review: We Were Promised Jetpacks (w/The Seventeenth Century), Glasgow QMU, 18/12/10
Come one, come all, to the We Were Promised Jetpacks Christmas party, brought to you by M&S crackers, ear-shatteringly noisy guitars and one absolutely cracking bill that features, as its most pleasant surprise, the utterly wonderful The Seventeenth Century who tonight manage to almost upstage the main attraction. The band's sound is quite unlike anything currently worming its way through the Zeitgeist, with the possible exception of British Sea Power, but even then, arguably, the Century have a stranglehold over the Brighton boys by virtue of the sheer intensity of their performance.
Mournful trombone and melancholic violin are married to the unquestionably unique harmonics of lead singer Mark Brendan Farmer, whose mouth contorts into shapes previously thought inconceivable in order to deliver a truly outstanding vocal range, sounding fascinatingly unearthly. And as if this wasn't enough, the cataclysmically epic sounds that come tumbling from the stage, that build and build and build before launching themselves from the toppermost high and soaring over all our heads, are created with such intense fervor by the band members that their instruments very nearly meet a decidedly sticky end (Mark's violin, in particular, suffers badly at his hand). It all makes for riveting viewing and raises the bar another twenty notches for the Jetpacks to surpass.
Thankfully, WWPJ bring their A-game this evening, unleashing an unforgiving torrent of calamitous noise on the 300 strong Queen Margaret's Union, an impressive capacity for a band with as little commercial success. The boys find the time for a few heartfelt thank yous - well deserved given the roaring singalongs that accompany EVERY track from last year's superb debut 'These Four Walls', not simply the singles - and to pull the odd Christmas cracker (bassist Sean dons the paper hat but refuses to tell the rubbish joke), but the focus is primarily on showering us all in abrasive guitar chops, ear-shattering feedback and the kind of cathartic 'build to release' formula that even the Karma Sutra can't perfect. For such a refined, pint-sized band, the Jetpacks make one hell of a noise; the cacophony emanating from Adam and Michael's combined Telecaster thrashings is a force to be reckoned with and gives the group their edge, lending serious weight to the band's sound.
Wisely, the Edinburghians choose not to deviate from their winning formula; if anything, the new material aired tonight, making up approximately half of the set, amps everything up to 100. The guitars on suitably intense opener 'Circles' are even louder, the choruses still more massive, the spits and snarls through which Adam's delivers his impenetrable vocals even more ferocious. It all bodes extremely well for the forthcoming second record, giving us all something delicious to look forward to in 2011. Inevitably, though, it's the familiar material that hits the most home runs: the 'Ships', the 'Sleeves', the 'Short Bursts'. These are the beauties that the knowledgeable among us have come to know and love, the stupendously sporadic stabs of indie-rock brilliance that the punters have taken to their hearts, and that tonight, send voices soaring, arms in the air and bodies flying stagewards. It's an endearing sight and one that, with a smidgeon of luck and a healthy helping of hard work, should continue apace into the new year.
If tonight is any indication, and there's any justice left in this crazy old thing we call the music business, 2011 belongs to We Were Promised Jetpacks. And The Seventeenth Century. You read it here first, kids. Now make it happen.
Mournful trombone and melancholic violin are married to the unquestionably unique harmonics of lead singer Mark Brendan Farmer, whose mouth contorts into shapes previously thought inconceivable in order to deliver a truly outstanding vocal range, sounding fascinatingly unearthly. And as if this wasn't enough, the cataclysmically epic sounds that come tumbling from the stage, that build and build and build before launching themselves from the toppermost high and soaring over all our heads, are created with such intense fervor by the band members that their instruments very nearly meet a decidedly sticky end (Mark's violin, in particular, suffers badly at his hand). It all makes for riveting viewing and raises the bar another twenty notches for the Jetpacks to surpass.
Thankfully, WWPJ bring their A-game this evening, unleashing an unforgiving torrent of calamitous noise on the 300 strong Queen Margaret's Union, an impressive capacity for a band with as little commercial success. The boys find the time for a few heartfelt thank yous - well deserved given the roaring singalongs that accompany EVERY track from last year's superb debut 'These Four Walls', not simply the singles - and to pull the odd Christmas cracker (bassist Sean dons the paper hat but refuses to tell the rubbish joke), but the focus is primarily on showering us all in abrasive guitar chops, ear-shattering feedback and the kind of cathartic 'build to release' formula that even the Karma Sutra can't perfect. For such a refined, pint-sized band, the Jetpacks make one hell of a noise; the cacophony emanating from Adam and Michael's combined Telecaster thrashings is a force to be reckoned with and gives the group their edge, lending serious weight to the band's sound.
Wisely, the Edinburghians choose not to deviate from their winning formula; if anything, the new material aired tonight, making up approximately half of the set, amps everything up to 100. The guitars on suitably intense opener 'Circles' are even louder, the choruses still more massive, the spits and snarls through which Adam's delivers his impenetrable vocals even more ferocious. It all bodes extremely well for the forthcoming second record, giving us all something delicious to look forward to in 2011. Inevitably, though, it's the familiar material that hits the most home runs: the 'Ships', the 'Sleeves', the 'Short Bursts'. These are the beauties that the knowledgeable among us have come to know and love, the stupendously sporadic stabs of indie-rock brilliance that the punters have taken to their hearts, and that tonight, send voices soaring, arms in the air and bodies flying stagewards. It's an endearing sight and one that, with a smidgeon of luck and a healthy helping of hard work, should continue apace into the new year.
If tonight is any indication, and there's any justice left in this crazy old thing we call the music business, 2011 belongs to We Were Promised Jetpacks. And The Seventeenth Century. You read it here first, kids. Now make it happen.
The 15 #10: Christmas Eve 2010
1. Rancid: Burn
2. Rufus Wainwright: Old Whore's Diet
3. The Vandals: Marry Me
4. Rammstein: Rammstein
5. MC Lars: Rapbeth (Foul Is Fair)
6. Our Lady Peace: Do You Like It?
7. The Queers: Ursula Finally Has Tits
8. Tiger Army: Atomic
9. Ash: Lose Control
10. Ryan Adams: This Is It
11. Hey Mercedes: Weekend Starts On Wednesday
12. Off With Their Heads: Horse Pills and the Apartment Lobby
13. The Hidden Cameras: Golden Streams
14. Everclear: Broken
15. Bad Brains: No Conditions
2. Rufus Wainwright: Old Whore's Diet
3. The Vandals: Marry Me
4. Rammstein: Rammstein
5. MC Lars: Rapbeth (Foul Is Fair)
6. Our Lady Peace: Do You Like It?
7. The Queers: Ursula Finally Has Tits
8. Tiger Army: Atomic
9. Ash: Lose Control
10. Ryan Adams: This Is It
11. Hey Mercedes: Weekend Starts On Wednesday
12. Off With Their Heads: Horse Pills and the Apartment Lobby
13. The Hidden Cameras: Golden Streams
14. Everclear: Broken
15. Bad Brains: No Conditions
Thursday, 23 December 2010
The 15 #8 and #9 (22 and 23/12/10)
Aaaaggh. Forgot to do this yesterday.
1. R.E.M.: Boy In The Well
2. Fugazi: Guilford Fall
3. Idlewild: Take Me Back To The Islands
4. Face to Face: Helpless (Sugar)
5. Head Automatica: Head Automatica Soundsystem
6. The Kissaway Trail: Prelude
7. James: Semaphore
8. Screeching Weasel: More Problems
9. Marilyn Manson: Leave A Scar
10. Off With Their Heads: Call The Cops
11. Foxboro Hot Tubs: Highway 1
12. Ryan Adams: Bartending Lines
13. Saves The Day: Do You Know What I Love The Most?
14. Lucky Boys Confusion: Arizona Stand
15. Thunderbirds Are Now!: This World Is Made Of Paper
1. Skindred: Start First
2. Foo Fighters: End Over End
3. Scissor Sisters: She's My Man
4. Alexisonfire: Keep It On Wax
5. AFI: pH Low
6. The Joy Formidable: Austere
7. Jump, Little Children: Not Today
8. Young Knives: Diamonds In The West
9. AFI: This Celluloid Dream
10. System of a Down: Chop Suey
11. Fenix TX: Song For Everyone
12. Sleater Kinney: Start Together
13. Stars: My Favourite Book
14. Brakes: Isabel
15. Goldfinger: 99 Red Balloons
1. R.E.M.: Boy In The Well
2. Fugazi: Guilford Fall
3. Idlewild: Take Me Back To The Islands
4. Face to Face: Helpless (Sugar)
5. Head Automatica: Head Automatica Soundsystem
6. The Kissaway Trail: Prelude
7. James: Semaphore
8. Screeching Weasel: More Problems
9. Marilyn Manson: Leave A Scar
10. Off With Their Heads: Call The Cops
11. Foxboro Hot Tubs: Highway 1
12. Ryan Adams: Bartending Lines
13. Saves The Day: Do You Know What I Love The Most?
14. Lucky Boys Confusion: Arizona Stand
15. Thunderbirds Are Now!: This World Is Made Of Paper
1. Skindred: Start First
2. Foo Fighters: End Over End
3. Scissor Sisters: She's My Man
4. Alexisonfire: Keep It On Wax
5. AFI: pH Low
6. The Joy Formidable: Austere
7. Jump, Little Children: Not Today
8. Young Knives: Diamonds In The West
9. AFI: This Celluloid Dream
10. System of a Down: Chop Suey
11. Fenix TX: Song For Everyone
12. Sleater Kinney: Start Together
13. Stars: My Favourite Book
14. Brakes: Isabel
15. Goldfinger: 99 Red Balloons
Tuesday, 21 December 2010
The 15 #7: 21/12/10
No Lucky Boys Confusion today? Come on, iPod...
1. Tapes 'n Tapes: Cowbell
2. Clor: Stuck In A Tight Spot
3. Fugazi: Great Cop
4. Bad Religion: Fuck Armageddon... This Is Hell
5. The Clash: Inoculated City
6. Bowling For Soup: I'm Gay
7. Snow Patrol: Black and Blue
8. Dropkick Murphys: The Fighting 69th
9. Tegan & Sara: Sentimental Tune
10. The Loved Ones: Living Will (Get You Dead)
11. Nine Inch Nails: Closer
12. Anti-Nowhere League: Johannesburg
13. Cobra Skulls: I Want Bigger Cobra Skulls
14. Ryan Adams: Carolina Rain (again??)
15. The Xcerts: Carnival Time
No LBC but the same ruddy Adams song and still more Bad Religion...
1. Tapes 'n Tapes: Cowbell
2. Clor: Stuck In A Tight Spot
3. Fugazi: Great Cop
4. Bad Religion: Fuck Armageddon... This Is Hell
5. The Clash: Inoculated City
6. Bowling For Soup: I'm Gay
7. Snow Patrol: Black and Blue
8. Dropkick Murphys: The Fighting 69th
9. Tegan & Sara: Sentimental Tune
10. The Loved Ones: Living Will (Get You Dead)
11. Nine Inch Nails: Closer
12. Anti-Nowhere League: Johannesburg
13. Cobra Skulls: I Want Bigger Cobra Skulls
14. Ryan Adams: Carolina Rain (again??)
15. The Xcerts: Carnival Time
No LBC but the same ruddy Adams song and still more Bad Religion...
Sunday, 19 December 2010
The 15 #6: 20/12/10
1. Street Brats: Dead End Kids
2. In Case of Fire: Plan A
3. Silversun: Nobody
4. Minus the Bear: Pantsuit... Uggghhh
5. Los Campesinos!: Between an Erupting Earth and an Exploding Sky
6. Lucky Boys Confusion: City Lights
7. Josh Rouse: Under Your Charms
8. Dead Kennedys: Holiday In Cambodia
9. PJ Harvey: This Mess We're In
10. The Automatic: You Shout You Shout You Shout
11. Against Me!: Tonight We're Gonna Give It 35%
12. Yeah Yeah Yeahs: Hysteric
13. Johnny Foreigner: Cranes and Cranes and Cranes and Cranes
14. Random Hand: Answers
15. My Chemical Romance: Helena
And what have we learned from the past six days? That my 19,000 track iPod really, really likes Lucky Boys Confusion.
2. In Case of Fire: Plan A
3. Silversun: Nobody
4. Minus the Bear: Pantsuit... Uggghhh
5. Los Campesinos!: Between an Erupting Earth and an Exploding Sky
6. Lucky Boys Confusion: City Lights
7. Josh Rouse: Under Your Charms
8. Dead Kennedys: Holiday In Cambodia
9. PJ Harvey: This Mess We're In
10. The Automatic: You Shout You Shout You Shout
11. Against Me!: Tonight We're Gonna Give It 35%
12. Yeah Yeah Yeahs: Hysteric
13. Johnny Foreigner: Cranes and Cranes and Cranes and Cranes
14. Random Hand: Answers
15. My Chemical Romance: Helena
And what have we learned from the past six days? That my 19,000 track iPod really, really likes Lucky Boys Confusion.
Worst 20 singles of 2010
20. BEST COAST: Boyfriend
Bizarrely touted as heirs to the Pixies' lofty throne, Best Coast make the kind of distorted, two chord indie bollocks that used to get bands like Campag Velocet laughed out of the building. With a depressing lack of variety and a hilariously limited palette (girl loves boy, boy loves girl, it's unrequited, it's requited, repeat ad nauseum), these Californian washouts fit the zeitgeist's current penchant for fuzzy Americana perfectly: hell, with tracks as banal as 'Boyfriend' ('I wish he was my boyfriend/I'd love him til the very end') , no one really has to think too much. Win, win right? Guess again.
19. WE THE KINGS: Heaven Can Wait
Pop punk is back in vogue peeps, so out come the copyists, the cheap knock-offs with high pitched male vocals, hastily written lyrics about that unobtainable, but oh so incredibly beautiful girl, and more probably than not, a key change. We The Kings satisfy all the criteria; 'Heaven Can Wait' ticks all the required boxes... and for that reason alone, it is worthy of your contempt. As hum-drum and formulaic as you can get.
18. TINIE TEMPAH: Pass Out
Wish he bloody would.
17. ROLO TOMASSI: Party Wounds
Look, guys, if you just stopped verbally shitting all over your records with those unfathomably hideous 'vocals' (yes, we use the term very, very loosely), you might actually be onto something. The unusual rhythm and tempo changes show promise and that transition from abrasive hardcore to guitar-led funk at the minute mark is actually quite interesting. Why ruin it all by opening your mouths and letting the diarrhoea flood out? Throw out your microphones, become an instrumental band, then we'll talk.
16. MIA: XXXO
Oh my God, like, MIA is just sooooo cool. Her records are like, totally relevant and stuff. I mean, calling your track 'XXXO', like, you know, from texts, it's just so real man. She sings about our lives dude. And that beat, it's like, so phat man, not even irritating at all. Totally awesome. Euck.
15. MGMT: Congratulations
Goes nowhere, says nothing, doesn't even have a catchy keyboard bit. Come on MGMT, for all your 'Oracular Spectacular' material was as irritating as a bout of genital herpes, at least it was annoying enough for us to give a shit. This exercise in abject boredom trudges so far down the dismal road of mediocrity that even Fran Healey fans are tempted to reach for the 'off' button. Truly mind-numbing.
14. WILLIAM CONTROL: Only Human Sometimes
No, William, you are not Gary Numan. You're barely even Gary Barlow. Give it up. Now.
13. FOXY SHAZAM: Oh Lord
Coming on like the bastard love child of Jake Shears and Justin Hawkins, Eric Sean Nally, a.k.a. Foxy Shazam, makes music that is every bit as shocking as his alias. As you might expect, this is flamboyancy squared, cubed even, with cat suits, falsettos and platforms taking pride of place next to a depressingly predictable glam-cum-punk rock sound. 'Oh Lord' is the worst of an awful bunch, crooning, pouting and preening along and managing to be as stale as a month old loaf of Warburtons. Essentially, The Darkness for pop punk/emo kids. Sends shivers down your spine, doesn't it?
12. KATE NASH: Do Wah Doo
Oh Goddddddddddddddddddddddddddd, make her stop! Please! I just can't take the meaningless lyrics, uncontrollable warbling and irritating mispronunciations any more! It's enough to drive you to insanity. Really. Nashism, that's what my psychiatrist calls it. I need a lie down.
11. CRYSTAL CASTLES: Celestica
Fancy making your own Crystal Castles record? Simple! Just take out your nearest Dictaphone, dust down your old Spectrum ZX81 and let the fun begin! Sprinkle with a side-helping of incomprehensible belching (males and females allowed) for added flavour and hey presto, you've got your next Hipster No. 1. Easy. Saves having to subject your ears to the originals, at any rate.
10. A DAY TO REMEMBER: Have Faith In Me
Seriously? THIS is where we've got to? This is where pop punk, emo and hardcore have taken us? Three minutes of self-absorbed, adolescent whinging, soundtracked by the most depressingly standard of three chord thrashings? This is what we're supposed to swallow? Well sorry boys, but we're not buying it. The discerning public deserves more than a series of well-worn cliches and half-baked Sixth form poetry. From the evidence of this, ADTR are no different to any of the 10,000 other so-called punk wannabes stinking up Kerrang! TV and for that, they deserve nothing other than your contempt. Put a sock in it Remember and bloody well give it up.
9. HURTS: Stay
Every indie dah-ling from Cambridgeshire to Shoreditch lined up, one by one, to shove their unnecessarily bespectacled faces up these Mancunian knobbers' arses this year, heralding their knock-off Pet Shop Boys sound as 'like, really revolutionary man.' Actually, it's just recycled 80s synth pop... and very, very bad 80s synth pop at that. The kind you might find on the 99p Lost Classics of the 80s CDs in the ASDA bargain bin; the sort of thing Spandau Ballet fans would probably consider listenable. 'Stay' is the epitome of their hideously polished, garishly trite sound and should therefore be avoided at all costs. Don't say we didn't warn you.
8. PENDULUM: Watercolour
THAT vocodered voice! THOSE pro-tools effects! MORE inane lyrics! ANOTHER inevitable build to a 'thumping' back beat! Throw 'em all together, stir lightly for three minutes and serve. Cold. To an army of drugged-up idiots too stupid to realise that these colossal w**kstains are taking them on one gigantic, money-grabbing ride every time they release a new record. Seriously guys, can anyone discern a difference between 'Watercolour' and any other track
released by Pendulum, like, EVER? Apart from the slightly amended diction? No, you bloody well can't, so stop trying. Put this God awful record down, tear up to your tickets to the next underground dubstep night (you know, the ones that cost you an arm and a leg) and get some taste. Please.
7. KELE: Tenderoni
Once upon a time, many aeons ago, Kele Okereke had something to say. Back in the hallowed Winter of 2004, this angular indie rock troubadour was singing about the vampirism of consumer culture, writing about the price of gasoline and making the kind of post-punk noise you just couldn't help but lose yourself in. Bloc Party's 'Silent Alarm' is an amazing record, one of the best of the decade, but pretty soon after its release, Kele, in his infinite wisdom, decided that he just wasn't interested in producing outstanding music. The chinks began to form in the armour: first we had 'The Prayer', a poor man's attempt to fuse indie and crunk. Then there was 'Flux', a cheap Chemical Brothers knock-off produced in a shoebox. By the time we got to 'innovative' (hah) third album 'Intimacy', Bloc Party had done away with guitars altogether, churning out early 90s minimal techno 'homages' like 'One More Chance' and the utter, utter abomination that is 'Mercury'. Kele, in effect, proceeded to take one gigantic three year shit all over his band's legacy, and while he's now flown solo and is at least no longer tainting the rest of the guys with this crap, the unrelenting disappointment remains.
Inspired, apparently, by his love of club culture (always down Popstarz, getting' hammered, d'you reckon?), solo album 'The Boxer', from which this monstrosity is taken, is a 45 minute exercise in electronica-wankery, owing much to the depressingly dated stylings of early 90s rave culture, designed to send the ultra-cool hipsters who fill up the pages of the NME into a frenzy of uncontrollable hyperbole and sickening sycophantism. Look, this is complete bollocks, okay? And for that matter, it's complete bollocks that's been done better by such luminaries as The Shamen and bloody Black Box. An almighty fall from grace. Shame.
6. LINKIN PARK: The Catalyst
Look, Chester, just because everyone and their granny is queuing up to worship at the altar of the Casio keyboard does not give you carte blanche to piss all over your legacy and produce a terrible electronica record. 'The Catalyst' is bloody awful and, for that matter, the title is something of a misnomer: it trudges along for four minutes, going absolutely nowhere, and couldn't inspire anyone to do anything. Come on guys, give us another 'Hybrid Theory'. Please?!
5. GOOD CHARLOTTE: Like It's Her Birthday
Not only have Linkin Park jumped squarely on the electronica bandwagon, but Good Charlotte appear to have taken the wheel, driving themselves so far beyond their traditional, um, pop punk sound that it's hard to recogni... oh wait, Joel's still attempting to sing, yeah, this is definitely Good Charlotte. It's somewhat amusing, if a little sad, that the Madden boys have such little self-respect that they'll clamour to fit in with whichever scene is flavour of the month, regardless of how idiotic it makes them appear. "Quick, get the synths out, they're popular, this'll make us a few million!" It would perhaps be forgivable if the track were any good but, predictably, it isn't. A real case of utterly transparent desperation.
4. 3OH!3: My First Kiss
As if one year of these Eurotrash rejects wasn't enough, the music press continued, somewhat unfathomably, to force 3Oh!3 down the throats of unsuspecting alternative music lovers in 2010, refusing to stop until they swallowed every last morsel of their horrendously dated, and unquestionably odious, electropop. Quite how this fetid cesspool of detritus managed to elbow its way into rock and indie club playlists is anybody's guess, but there it was, all Summer long, cosying on up to the Lady GaGa/Metallica mash-ups, making your sodding ears bleed. There really is no excuse for this crap. It's not big, it's not clever and it most certainly isn't funny. Oi, 3Oh!3... do one.
3. BEADY EYE: Bring The Light
Making a right Royal hoot out of Liam Gallagher's claim that the forthcoming LP will be 'better than Definitely Maybe', this four minute honky-tonk abomination sets new records for wanton laziness, stealing the piano parts from 'Great Balls of Fire' and setting them to a lyric more predictable than the transformation of day into night. 'Little James' ain't got nothin' on this blighter. Check out that chorus! Your nephew could scribble something better on the back of his packet of Coco Flakes. A real travesty, an undeniably atrocious record, which makes Alan McGee's desperate attempts to excuse it all the more laughable.
2. BRING ME THE HORIZON: It Never Ends
I believe it was the almighty Slipknot who once observed, most eloquently, that PEOPLE = SHIT. That there is anyone, and we mean anyone, in existence who can derive enjoyment from listening to the utter and complete doggerel churned out on a regular basis by this God awful excuse for a band is testament to its validity. That Oli Skyes and his band of merry noisemakers feel it is acceptable to subject the teenyboppers and emo kids who make up their audience to output like this provides further proof, and just reinforces the fact that, well, they're a bunch of masochistic bastards. Unfathomably, music press stalwarts have taken it upon themselves to lavish praise upon BMTH's latest release when, actually, it is the aural equivalent of week-long bout of explosive diarrhoea. Supposedly, this is a revolutionary record, a pioneering fusion of hardcore, metal, punk and, um., dubstep. What actually transpires is an unlistenable mess, as if Oli and co simply threw everything into the pot and hoped it would stick... and it didn't. 'It Never Ends', the lead single from it, is a song with no redeeming features whatsoever. There is simply no reason to listen to this crap and no justification for its existence. PEOPLE = SHIT indeed.
1. BrokENCYDE: Teach Me How to Scream
Well, congratulations BrokENCYDE! Not only have you managed to remain as unequivocally dreadful as you were last year - a feat that sent them rocketing to the no. 1 spot in 2009's Worst Singles of the Year - but you've also made a record that is a less enjoyable listening experience than anything produced by Bring Me the Horizon. That's no small feat ladies and gentlemen, and is proof positive that this caterwauling sack of horse manure is well deserving of its position at the top of the atrocity pile. Despite the best efforts of everyone with functional earlobes to prevent these fucktards from continuing to fuse screamo and crunk, and hence cripple the credibility of both genres and the very music industry itself, the guys from the CYDE have chosen to stick to their tried and, um, tested formula with 'Teach Me How to Scream' and consequently, have produced another embarrassingly unlistenable monstrosity. The screams! The lazy beats! Those offensively misogynistic lyrics! Oh, the horror! It's enough to make you want to chew your own foot off... actually, scratch that: listen to this for longer than three minutes and you'll have cannibalised your insides. Want to ensure a confession from Julian Assange? Make him listen to this on repeat. It's a sure fire winner. Undoubtedly the worst track released upon an unsuspecting public in 2010, and quite probably one of the worst things ever created. Why God, why?
Bizarrely touted as heirs to the Pixies' lofty throne, Best Coast make the kind of distorted, two chord indie bollocks that used to get bands like Campag Velocet laughed out of the building. With a depressing lack of variety and a hilariously limited palette (girl loves boy, boy loves girl, it's unrequited, it's requited, repeat ad nauseum), these Californian washouts fit the zeitgeist's current penchant for fuzzy Americana perfectly: hell, with tracks as banal as 'Boyfriend' ('I wish he was my boyfriend/I'd love him til the very end') , no one really has to think too much. Win, win right? Guess again.
19. WE THE KINGS: Heaven Can Wait
Pop punk is back in vogue peeps, so out come the copyists, the cheap knock-offs with high pitched male vocals, hastily written lyrics about that unobtainable, but oh so incredibly beautiful girl, and more probably than not, a key change. We The Kings satisfy all the criteria; 'Heaven Can Wait' ticks all the required boxes... and for that reason alone, it is worthy of your contempt. As hum-drum and formulaic as you can get.
18. TINIE TEMPAH: Pass Out
Wish he bloody would.
17. ROLO TOMASSI: Party Wounds
Look, guys, if you just stopped verbally shitting all over your records with those unfathomably hideous 'vocals' (yes, we use the term very, very loosely), you might actually be onto something. The unusual rhythm and tempo changes show promise and that transition from abrasive hardcore to guitar-led funk at the minute mark is actually quite interesting. Why ruin it all by opening your mouths and letting the diarrhoea flood out? Throw out your microphones, become an instrumental band, then we'll talk.
16. MIA: XXXO
Oh my God, like, MIA is just sooooo cool. Her records are like, totally relevant and stuff. I mean, calling your track 'XXXO', like, you know, from texts, it's just so real man. She sings about our lives dude. And that beat, it's like, so phat man, not even irritating at all. Totally awesome. Euck.
15. MGMT: Congratulations
Goes nowhere, says nothing, doesn't even have a catchy keyboard bit. Come on MGMT, for all your 'Oracular Spectacular' material was as irritating as a bout of genital herpes, at least it was annoying enough for us to give a shit. This exercise in abject boredom trudges so far down the dismal road of mediocrity that even Fran Healey fans are tempted to reach for the 'off' button. Truly mind-numbing.
14. WILLIAM CONTROL: Only Human Sometimes
No, William, you are not Gary Numan. You're barely even Gary Barlow. Give it up. Now.
13. FOXY SHAZAM: Oh Lord
Coming on like the bastard love child of Jake Shears and Justin Hawkins, Eric Sean Nally, a.k.a. Foxy Shazam, makes music that is every bit as shocking as his alias. As you might expect, this is flamboyancy squared, cubed even, with cat suits, falsettos and platforms taking pride of place next to a depressingly predictable glam-cum-punk rock sound. 'Oh Lord' is the worst of an awful bunch, crooning, pouting and preening along and managing to be as stale as a month old loaf of Warburtons. Essentially, The Darkness for pop punk/emo kids. Sends shivers down your spine, doesn't it?
12. KATE NASH: Do Wah Doo
Oh Goddddddddddddddddddddddddddd, make her stop! Please! I just can't take the meaningless lyrics, uncontrollable warbling and irritating mispronunciations any more! It's enough to drive you to insanity. Really. Nashism, that's what my psychiatrist calls it. I need a lie down.
11. CRYSTAL CASTLES: Celestica
Fancy making your own Crystal Castles record? Simple! Just take out your nearest Dictaphone, dust down your old Spectrum ZX81 and let the fun begin! Sprinkle with a side-helping of incomprehensible belching (males and females allowed) for added flavour and hey presto, you've got your next Hipster No. 1. Easy. Saves having to subject your ears to the originals, at any rate.
10. A DAY TO REMEMBER: Have Faith In Me
Seriously? THIS is where we've got to? This is where pop punk, emo and hardcore have taken us? Three minutes of self-absorbed, adolescent whinging, soundtracked by the most depressingly standard of three chord thrashings? This is what we're supposed to swallow? Well sorry boys, but we're not buying it. The discerning public deserves more than a series of well-worn cliches and half-baked Sixth form poetry. From the evidence of this, ADTR are no different to any of the 10,000 other so-called punk wannabes stinking up Kerrang! TV and for that, they deserve nothing other than your contempt. Put a sock in it Remember and bloody well give it up.
9. HURTS: Stay
Every indie dah-ling from Cambridgeshire to Shoreditch lined up, one by one, to shove their unnecessarily bespectacled faces up these Mancunian knobbers' arses this year, heralding their knock-off Pet Shop Boys sound as 'like, really revolutionary man.' Actually, it's just recycled 80s synth pop... and very, very bad 80s synth pop at that. The kind you might find on the 99p Lost Classics of the 80s CDs in the ASDA bargain bin; the sort of thing Spandau Ballet fans would probably consider listenable. 'Stay' is the epitome of their hideously polished, garishly trite sound and should therefore be avoided at all costs. Don't say we didn't warn you.
8. PENDULUM: Watercolour
THAT vocodered voice! THOSE pro-tools effects! MORE inane lyrics! ANOTHER inevitable build to a 'thumping' back beat! Throw 'em all together, stir lightly for three minutes and serve. Cold. To an army of drugged-up idiots too stupid to realise that these colossal w**kstains are taking them on one gigantic, money-grabbing ride every time they release a new record. Seriously guys, can anyone discern a difference between 'Watercolour' and any other track
released by Pendulum, like, EVER? Apart from the slightly amended diction? No, you bloody well can't, so stop trying. Put this God awful record down, tear up to your tickets to the next underground dubstep night (you know, the ones that cost you an arm and a leg) and get some taste. Please.
7. KELE: Tenderoni
Once upon a time, many aeons ago, Kele Okereke had something to say. Back in the hallowed Winter of 2004, this angular indie rock troubadour was singing about the vampirism of consumer culture, writing about the price of gasoline and making the kind of post-punk noise you just couldn't help but lose yourself in. Bloc Party's 'Silent Alarm' is an amazing record, one of the best of the decade, but pretty soon after its release, Kele, in his infinite wisdom, decided that he just wasn't interested in producing outstanding music. The chinks began to form in the armour: first we had 'The Prayer', a poor man's attempt to fuse indie and crunk. Then there was 'Flux', a cheap Chemical Brothers knock-off produced in a shoebox. By the time we got to 'innovative' (hah) third album 'Intimacy', Bloc Party had done away with guitars altogether, churning out early 90s minimal techno 'homages' like 'One More Chance' and the utter, utter abomination that is 'Mercury'. Kele, in effect, proceeded to take one gigantic three year shit all over his band's legacy, and while he's now flown solo and is at least no longer tainting the rest of the guys with this crap, the unrelenting disappointment remains.
Inspired, apparently, by his love of club culture (always down Popstarz, getting' hammered, d'you reckon?), solo album 'The Boxer', from which this monstrosity is taken, is a 45 minute exercise in electronica-wankery, owing much to the depressingly dated stylings of early 90s rave culture, designed to send the ultra-cool hipsters who fill up the pages of the NME into a frenzy of uncontrollable hyperbole and sickening sycophantism. Look, this is complete bollocks, okay? And for that matter, it's complete bollocks that's been done better by such luminaries as The Shamen and bloody Black Box. An almighty fall from grace. Shame.
6. LINKIN PARK: The Catalyst
Look, Chester, just because everyone and their granny is queuing up to worship at the altar of the Casio keyboard does not give you carte blanche to piss all over your legacy and produce a terrible electronica record. 'The Catalyst' is bloody awful and, for that matter, the title is something of a misnomer: it trudges along for four minutes, going absolutely nowhere, and couldn't inspire anyone to do anything. Come on guys, give us another 'Hybrid Theory'. Please?!
5. GOOD CHARLOTTE: Like It's Her Birthday
Not only have Linkin Park jumped squarely on the electronica bandwagon, but Good Charlotte appear to have taken the wheel, driving themselves so far beyond their traditional, um, pop punk sound that it's hard to recogni... oh wait, Joel's still attempting to sing, yeah, this is definitely Good Charlotte. It's somewhat amusing, if a little sad, that the Madden boys have such little self-respect that they'll clamour to fit in with whichever scene is flavour of the month, regardless of how idiotic it makes them appear. "Quick, get the synths out, they're popular, this'll make us a few million!" It would perhaps be forgivable if the track were any good but, predictably, it isn't. A real case of utterly transparent desperation.
4. 3OH!3: My First Kiss
As if one year of these Eurotrash rejects wasn't enough, the music press continued, somewhat unfathomably, to force 3Oh!3 down the throats of unsuspecting alternative music lovers in 2010, refusing to stop until they swallowed every last morsel of their horrendously dated, and unquestionably odious, electropop. Quite how this fetid cesspool of detritus managed to elbow its way into rock and indie club playlists is anybody's guess, but there it was, all Summer long, cosying on up to the Lady GaGa/Metallica mash-ups, making your sodding ears bleed. There really is no excuse for this crap. It's not big, it's not clever and it most certainly isn't funny. Oi, 3Oh!3... do one.
3. BEADY EYE: Bring The Light
Making a right Royal hoot out of Liam Gallagher's claim that the forthcoming LP will be 'better than Definitely Maybe', this four minute honky-tonk abomination sets new records for wanton laziness, stealing the piano parts from 'Great Balls of Fire' and setting them to a lyric more predictable than the transformation of day into night. 'Little James' ain't got nothin' on this blighter. Check out that chorus! Your nephew could scribble something better on the back of his packet of Coco Flakes. A real travesty, an undeniably atrocious record, which makes Alan McGee's desperate attempts to excuse it all the more laughable.
2. BRING ME THE HORIZON: It Never Ends
I believe it was the almighty Slipknot who once observed, most eloquently, that PEOPLE = SHIT. That there is anyone, and we mean anyone, in existence who can derive enjoyment from listening to the utter and complete doggerel churned out on a regular basis by this God awful excuse for a band is testament to its validity. That Oli Skyes and his band of merry noisemakers feel it is acceptable to subject the teenyboppers and emo kids who make up their audience to output like this provides further proof, and just reinforces the fact that, well, they're a bunch of masochistic bastards. Unfathomably, music press stalwarts have taken it upon themselves to lavish praise upon BMTH's latest release when, actually, it is the aural equivalent of week-long bout of explosive diarrhoea. Supposedly, this is a revolutionary record, a pioneering fusion of hardcore, metal, punk and, um., dubstep. What actually transpires is an unlistenable mess, as if Oli and co simply threw everything into the pot and hoped it would stick... and it didn't. 'It Never Ends', the lead single from it, is a song with no redeeming features whatsoever. There is simply no reason to listen to this crap and no justification for its existence. PEOPLE = SHIT indeed.
1. BrokENCYDE: Teach Me How to Scream
Well, congratulations BrokENCYDE! Not only have you managed to remain as unequivocally dreadful as you were last year - a feat that sent them rocketing to the no. 1 spot in 2009's Worst Singles of the Year - but you've also made a record that is a less enjoyable listening experience than anything produced by Bring Me the Horizon. That's no small feat ladies and gentlemen, and is proof positive that this caterwauling sack of horse manure is well deserving of its position at the top of the atrocity pile. Despite the best efforts of everyone with functional earlobes to prevent these fucktards from continuing to fuse screamo and crunk, and hence cripple the credibility of both genres and the very music industry itself, the guys from the CYDE have chosen to stick to their tried and, um, tested formula with 'Teach Me How to Scream' and consequently, have produced another embarrassingly unlistenable monstrosity. The screams! The lazy beats! Those offensively misogynistic lyrics! Oh, the horror! It's enough to make you want to chew your own foot off... actually, scratch that: listen to this for longer than three minutes and you'll have cannibalised your insides. Want to ensure a confession from Julian Assange? Make him listen to this on repeat. It's a sure fire winner. Undoubtedly the worst track released upon an unsuspecting public in 2010, and quite probably one of the worst things ever created. Why God, why?
The 15 #5: 19/12/10
1. THE BRIEFS: Silver Bullet
2. FAKE PROBLEMS: The Dream Team
3. LUCKY BOYS CONFUSION: Breaking Rules
4. JOSH ROUSE: God, Please Let Me Go Back
5. JIMMY EAT WORLD: Kill
6. JIMMY EAT WORLD: Action Needs An Audience
7. GRAMMATICS: Rosa Flood
8. BAD RELIGION: What It Is
9. STELLASTARR*: Moongirl
10. SAVES THE DAY: When It Isn't Like It Should Be
11. EELS: Not Ready Yet
12. EDITORS: Forest Fire
13. RYAN ADAMS: Carolina Rain
14. NOFX: The Moron Brothers
15. JJ72: Long Way South
2. FAKE PROBLEMS: The Dream Team
3. LUCKY BOYS CONFUSION: Breaking Rules
4. JOSH ROUSE: God, Please Let Me Go Back
5. JIMMY EAT WORLD: Kill
6. JIMMY EAT WORLD: Action Needs An Audience
7. GRAMMATICS: Rosa Flood
8. BAD RELIGION: What It Is
9. STELLASTARR*: Moongirl
10. SAVES THE DAY: When It Isn't Like It Should Be
11. EELS: Not Ready Yet
12. EDITORS: Forest Fire
13. RYAN ADAMS: Carolina Rain
14. NOFX: The Moron Brothers
15. JJ72: Long Way South
Saturday, 18 December 2010
The 15 #4: 18/12/10
And today's 15...
1. Bad Religion: Scrutiny
2. Mansun: I Can Only Disappoint U
3. [spunge]: Whinger
4. Bedouin Soundclash: Immigrant Workforce
5. American Hi-Fi: Where Did We Go Wrong?
6. Biffy Clyro: Cloud of Stink
7. The Vandals: Hocus Pocus
8. Hellogoodbye: Touchdown Turnaround
9. Fugazi: Burning Too
10. Reggie and the Full Effect: Thanx for Stayin'
11. She Wants Revenge: These Things
12. The Distillers: City of Angels
13. Pretty Girls Make Graves: Ghosts In The Radio
14. Bad Religion: Henchman
15. NOFX: I Live In A Cake
1. Bad Religion: Scrutiny
2. Mansun: I Can Only Disappoint U
3. [spunge]: Whinger
4. Bedouin Soundclash: Immigrant Workforce
5. American Hi-Fi: Where Did We Go Wrong?
6. Biffy Clyro: Cloud of Stink
7. The Vandals: Hocus Pocus
8. Hellogoodbye: Touchdown Turnaround
9. Fugazi: Burning Too
10. Reggie and the Full Effect: Thanx for Stayin'
11. She Wants Revenge: These Things
12. The Distillers: City of Angels
13. Pretty Girls Make Graves: Ghosts In The Radio
14. Bad Religion: Henchman
15. NOFX: I Live In A Cake
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