When the new floating points album was suggested for February there was an expected 50/50 split on knowing who or what Floating Points is or were. Floating Points is a guy from east London via Manchester that is known by friends and family as Sam Shepherd. For those more inclined to a 4/4 beat he’s been around for a while and often is thrown in the same barrel of genre as Caribou and four tet. Partially for his friendship to them both but also for their ability to throw out many of the established boundaries of dance music and push on their own agenda of all things music.
I’ve read a few reviews on this album, and although the reviewers have rated it, not one has pinpointed what they liked. There are the more accessible tracks such as “Silhouettes” but the album is much more than that.
Elaenia isn’t a dance record in my opinion. It sits more in the realm of experiential jazz or chill out (not in a late 90’s compilation way). This is an important point, don’t approach this as a dance record as I did and I struggled at first. In-fact on first listen I wasn’t a fan an had to take a while off to clear my assumptions and re-visit.
This album has changing moods to it with each song, though still maintains an over all flow that appeared for me after a few listens. I read a review that said this album was an extension of his ep’s. I think it’s a prequel. Gone are the loops replaced by live cords and strange sounds that sit nicely together.
The album lives to the name of it’s creator as it floats about with key rhythmic points that stick with you, ‘Thin Air’ and ‘Marmish’ are great examples of this. I can imagine Kendrick Lamar rhyming over both for some reason. In-fact most of the album.
It look me a few listens but I really like this album. Like many reviews I’ve read there is no distinct reason for it. Maybe because it’s short and it’s just the right length at 7 songs to let it take you away, day dream a bit, and then get back to the real world unscathed.
Well, I was going to say “who saw that coming?” but we’ve been here before. As it’s been said, when you no longer tour and live as a relative recluse, you can control whatever the public sees of you. So it’s no surprise that after The Next Day, which skewered his early years whilst nodding in reverence to them, that David Bowie spent 2015 making a follow-up, confounding us all again with the title track in November. I have to confess I took a little time to finally listen to this, as I wanted to watch the video rather than just the audio. And it stopped me in my tracks. In fact I ended up stood on Cheapside in my lunch break with my mouth open.
As a statement of intent it’s pretty powerful. While I loved The Next Day, for all the parallels to his classic albums, lyrically it was very much in the moment, skewering his character, ageing, his legacy, and proving he still has the edge that made his music so alluring when I first listened in my teenage years. But while the words on Blackstar do find some common ground with The Next Day, that’s mostly where the comparison ends. There’s been a lot (and I mean a LOT) of frothing of about how avant-garde it is, as if he’s turned into John Cage, genetically spliced with Roni Size and Miles Davis, but I’d take much of that with a pinch of salt. For anyone that’s familiar with Radiohead’s more experimental (recent) work, or the likes of Flying Lotus, or Bjork or any other more outre albums of the last two decades (let alone all sorts of electronic music), it’s not that far-fetched, but I guess the praise is in someone of Bowie’s stature and reputation still feeling so fresh, raw, and willing to experiment. After all, I can’t think of many (any?) artists approaching 70 that would do this, or do it with so much success or style. Especially when they’ve had forays into more experimental work with such varying results. I can see how die-hard classic era Bowie fans (especially those who are the same age as the Thin White Duke) may struggle with it, but really forget the hype, and just listen: this is outstanding work, a potential classic in the making, even after a few listens.
The title track’s first half echoes so much of Radiohead to me, and this isn’t a statement of either artistic laziness or pastiche, (just think Thom Yorke singing instead, and it’d be one of their best works itself) but high praise. Coupled with a deeply disturbing video that burns itself onto your consciousness, with Bowie as some sort of excommunicated (punished?) preacher stating prophetic, abstract lines as adolescents convulse and shake in the background, it’s affecting from the start. Who knows what it’s about? There’s been discussion (denied by Bowie’s team) that it’s referencing ISIS, but really it’s the ambiguity that’s the point here. The dead ‘Spaceman’ (Starman? a nice touch either way), the huge candle, the eclipsed (black) star; there’s huge, broad stylistic strokes at play and then, just as you wonder where it can go from here, it slows and shifts into what feels at first like familiar Bowie, its sax and swagger, all offset by the harsh, discordant, repeating chorus. I’m massive fan of long opening tracks on albums (Station to Station, or Elton John’s Funeral For A Friend), after all, isn’t that what albums are for? As an opener you’d think it’s hard to live up to, but it’s a case of setting the scene.
There’s almost breakbeat-ish, brash rock in Tis A Pity She’s A Whore, then a self-effacing Lazarus, which was written for a stage version of The Man Who Fell To Earth. Sue, which is Bowie to d’n’b (in a good way, thankfully) and echoes things like Squarepusher. Similarly, Girl Loves Me goes heavy on percussion and electronics, but they never take over the song itself. Dollar Days and I Can’t Give Everything Away again talk of death and loss and age and the past. Even a few listens and I’m hooked, and you can only applaud the constant reinvention of a man that could’ve ‘retired’ in 2003 and had a legacy as good as anyone in music.
Bowie continues to confound, and this may be the best thing he’s done since his Golden Years.
Good evening. Welcome to Beach House – Thank your lucky stars.
9 years ago I was checking out what was happening in Manchester that coming weekend. ‘Beach House’ were playing at Day and Night that Saturday. I googled them, came up with a you tube or two and ordered the album as I liked what I heard and wanted to know more before going to the gig with Stacey. I loved the album …. but we never went to the gig. Can’t recall why.
That 1st album was a very honest, raw affair. It was early enough in the whole ‘dream-pop’ (yuk) ‘low-fi’ (puke) thing that many of the tropes of the genre had not warn thin. The 2nd album didn’t move it on and I didn’t love it. Then they released ‘Teen Dream’ that everyone except for David loved. Teen Dream was a big step forward and played with lots of the same ideas but paired them with some really strong, catchy pop songs. Literally everyone who has heard it at our house has gone out and bought it.
2 years later they released ‘Bloom’ which annoyed the shit out of me. They released the same album again but with a different cover. There was nothing new. It was embarrassing how formula driven it was. Love affair over.
In August of this year they released ‘Depression Cherry’ I was excited as Beach House have such a big place in my heart … but was disappointed again as there was once again nothing new and the formula had been trotted out yet again. So it was with disgust and huge frustration that they released another album 2 months later! WTF! Quality control anyone?
However, when I listened to this one I heard what I had wanted to hear for the last 2 albums. Some new ideas, playing with some new instruments, possibly a bit darker return to their debut that I loved so much. A couple of tracks blew my socks off (‘All your yeahs’ and Elegy to the void’). It felt more honest and real than anything that they’d released since their debut. In some ways it feels like a debut. I’ve had this on hard rotation. My wife adores it and reminds her of our early days which always helps. I am conscious that this may be more of a ‘heart’ choice than a ‘head’ choice as Album of the Month but what the hell. Live dangerously.
There are periods in musical history when a certain country or part of the world suddenly has a flourishing of incredible output. British rock in the 60s, French electronica of the late 90s/early 2000s, Brazilian tropicalia of the late 60s, German krautrock of the 70s, the late 80s/early 90s golden age of hip-hop.
To add to that, I honestly think we might have to start thinking of Scandi pop of the noughties and teens (WTF are we calling this decade? Can someone please decide – we’re half way through!). The extraordinary explosion in electronic pop from the icy inlets of Northern Europe is really quite something. From Robyn to Royksopp to Annie to Fever Ray, not to mention Swedish Karl Martin Sandberg and his Norwegian cohorts who have written more pop music for American artists than anyone else in the last decade – the breadth, the quality and the standard of their output puts everyone else to shame.
What I love most about it is that there IS a unifying feel and sound, even if the bubblegum of Annie and the icy krautrock arthouse of Fever Ray couldn’t be further apart. There’s a love of melody – and – for me, this is the clincher – there’s a melancholy at the heart of it all that tugs at your hearstrings. Hell, think back to ABBA. They did just that. Perhaps that’s in the DNA of every Scandi performer somewhere!
Also notable is how female fronted this wave is. And somewhere in the midst of all this, here is Susanne Sundfor, sitting RIGHT in the sweet spot of everything I’ve described. The fact that this stunning album – there’s no other word for it – is not a million seller around the world is testament to the embarrassment of riches coming from her part of the world. But do note that in her native Norway, she is a MASSIVE star and this album sold by the truckload.
So, yes, I’m a fan of this kind of stuff, that sounds so effortless but has been toiled over so expertly. But how can this not beguile? From the chugging motorik of Accelerate to the aching pop of Kamikaze, to the grand balladeering of Silence, Sundfor has a wide palette to draw upon, and she doesn’t put a foot wrong. This is undoubtedly one of my albums of the year, and I’m so looking forward to delving into her back catalogue
Finally, one moment that makes my heart skip every time – when the fierce OTT pop madness of Accelerate slips into the chugging, bubbling beginning of Fade Away and you know you’re heading into an entirely different tune. And yes, there IS a touch of ABBA in Fade Away. Why not? You can always learn from the masters.
Welcome to October brothers, and my pick for the month “Maribou State – Portraits”.
I think it was around 2004 – 2005 that myself and brother Joey used to meet on a Sunday with whom ever else we could recruit and head into Chapel Allerton to Angel’s Share for what was aptly named Sunday Sessions. We’d eat, drink, talk lots of rubbish, drink some more and enjoy the usually top notch music that they used to play there. I loved those days that rolled into the very late hours and looked forward to Sundays more than the weekend Friday nights and Saturday nights. One week I made a mix inspired by those Sunday sessions, I loved that mix. I believe I passed around a fair few copies of it, but I have no clue where my copy is and I nobody else does either (I’m gutted by this yearly). When I first heard this album it really reminded of the feeling I was going for with that mix, and in-turn reminded me of those Sunday Sessions.
Maribou State were recommended by a friend in the early summer. The first track I heard was ‘Midas’ and was hooked right away. The album was ordered, I loved it, and it’s been in heavy rotation since. I like this album because it flows nicely, because they use different vocalists, because the pace changes, and because it takes me to the same place that mix CD used to.
I’d like to say this is a good album for October, when the pace slows, it gets chilly and everything seems a bit calmer. It does fit well, but I also think it worked well with the summer and might even fit with winter and spring though I’ve not had a chance to test it in those seasons yet.
Lets hope you get the same vibe off this as I do… enjoy brothers.
I have always been a fan of Roisin Murphy, since – like many of our generation – I saw her in the video for Molok’s Sing It Back (Boris D’Lugosh, we salute you). In truth by then she’d already been with Moloko for over 5 years at that point. Her voice has always been striking, so when the band went their separate ways, her solo career launched. I have to admit though that I’m hardly a ‘have everything she owns’ fanboy. I don’t think I’ve ever been disappointed by anything she’s done, but when I bought Overpowered I didn’t expect it to end up as one of my favourite albums of that year. It’s hard to put your finger on her allure, but it’s more than that voice and the lyrics, even though they’re great. Overpowered is painted as a disco album, but it’s far more than that. Sultry, plush, sweeping and enticing, and with her character at the centre the songs are more than the sum of their parts. I still love it.
So, when I heard ‘Exploitation’ on 6Music, fairly relentlessly, it got in my head. I didn’t love the song, but as with much of what Murphy does, it just has something about it. The wonky lead synth, her breathy vocal almost lost in the wind, the angry piano chords. Then I watched the video, and it reminded me why she’s still one of the most interesting artists around. In fact, it’s criminal – given her creativity and skill – that she’s not as successful as more bland and less inventive compatriots. She was doing interesting female solo pop when Lady Gaga was celebrating her 9th birthday. Isn’t that the way of the music world though?
The album is like a slowly unfurling flower. When I first heard it, it didn’t really grab me like I wanted it to, but then it’s a fairly big departure from ‘Overpowered’. Musically inventive, and challenging, it’s a box of tricks that rewards multiple listens. From Gone Fishing’s almost bossa-nova beginnings, to Evil Eyes’ whimsy (backed up by a truly great video), arguably the most poppy and accessible the album gets, it’s a delight. Uninvited Guest sounds like a Grace Jones record, until that staccato vocal slides in, and it feels like a record that only she could make. There’s musicality to her vocals, in the delivery that almost works them like an instrument, and indeed her range is so huge she can go from full-on throaty top range to almost invisible. It’s central to the album, one that goes slow and grandiose, with no fear of trying to be anything other than what she wants it to be. And it’s long. Much longer song length than most artists would risk these days, but nothing feels stretched out or like filler. Unputdownable is a great example of this as it closes out the album. As a modern pop album it’s one that deserves to sell a ton, but of course it’ll just confuse people wanting three-minute ringtone stuff, but they’re missing out.
More of this: I hope it’s not her last and I hope we don’t have to wait until 2023 for the next one.
Dear Brothers. Happy August. Sorry this is late. I think its my first ever late buy/post so please don’t hold it against me for too long. This month has been pretty painful for me choosing an album. I’ve not had enough head space to look into my own collection and/or new things to have something nailed on for the choice.
Months ago I posted ‘NWA’ by Miguel on the blog. I don’t recall it getting much of a response which is often a sign of how busy we are rather than how much we like or dislike something so I didn’t lose too much sleep about it. I was excited to see an album follow shortly and to see it gather positive reviews from all corners of the music media. I decided then I would choose it as my next album of the month … then I chickened out … then I chickened back in again. Then I decided Mbongwana Star was a better bet but found David had it (how much do you spend on music Brother David? You are a one man music industry!).
So here we are listening to (and hopefully) enjoying Wildheart. So what is it apart from the winner of the worst cover of any of this blogs previous albums of the month? There are numerous interviews with Miguel suggesting his inspiration behind this album. There are numerous interpretations of the album offering different suggestions as to how he got where he did with this one. The cover says ‘Prince’ so does the fact that many of these tracks are guitar driven. He is filed under ‘Alternative R&B’ on many sites. WTF is Alternative R&B anyway? I admit that i did come across him via a spotify Alternative R&B playlist so I can’t complain about the genre too much but it seems to be a tag that was created for Weeknd and then others were labelled accordingly?
For me, what ever the aim of this album was, the end result is pure pop. It has boatloads of Californian swagger. It has head-nodding tracks, sleaze and stadium-pop-rock anthems too. I think I chickened out from choosing it as the 3rd track ‘The Valley’ was a lot to take if you are new to this, not a huge R&B fan and not too keen on the naming of female body parts as the lyrical content to a bridge section of a pop song. The album is not shy of sexuality but I think this comes across as being ‘sex-positive’, if this is even a term? I don’t think this is offensive sexual referencing, overt but not offensive? For you to decided. Anyway, don’t switch off after Track 3 cause all the pop songs come after it.
I do suspect that Guy, you may need find this a tougher listen than David or Nolan but I may be totally wrong.
In its Californian-ness it feels like a summer album. In its love of a chorus it comes across as feel-good. I hope you enjoy it too.
So so sorry this is so late. July is nearly over, and alas I’ve been unwell. Anyway, plenty of time to digest this fine album, huh?
I thought this might be a bit more of a curveball after a straight run of albums we’ve all pretty much liked. So I’m dying to know what you think – though from what I’ve heard, you’ve warmed to it to.
EE are an odd proposition – odd to me because I know the bass player Jeremy via his partner Katie. He is a deeply lovely man and I’ve always wanted to like the band more than I actually do. They have so much going for them that I like – that uptight arthouse funk thing is right up my street – anything that descends from the Talking Heads line is going to get my vote. They’re GREAT live, they’re fine musicians, and they know how to write a killer melody.
The insurmountable problem I’ve had in the past is with lead singer Jonathan Higgs’s voice. Male falsetto is always a tricky beast, up high in the register and it can sound pure and unfettered, but lower down the register near the ‘crack’ with the normal voice, it can sound violently horrible. So I’ve heard their music over the past years, and time and time again, I’ve nearly dipped my toe in the water, but something has stopped me. I’ve had a listen on Spotify, and thought to myself – I couldn’t stomach a whole album of this. Same thing happened with Wild Beasts (bought 2 albums, never listen to either).
Something changed when I first heard Distant Past (btw, how crazy is that video? Brilliant and brutal). The moment I heard it, I thought: this is BRILLIANT. And then came Regret. Same. Something had clicked. Maybe his voice has smoothed out, but my god, those choruses. They’re like the best music of your childhood belting out in your head. They’re *irresistible*.
When I first heard the album as a whole, I thought it started incredibly strongly, then faded a bit. As time has gone on – and I’ve played this a LOT – that’s changed. I’m not sure there’s a genuinely weak track on there. And now I’m wondering whether I’ve dismissed their earlier work too quickly – or whether they’ve just hit a new high watermark.
I love the queasy mix of glorious pop melodies and his eloquent, angry and paranoid lyrics. It’s quite overwhelming at times, but hell, we don’t get to say that much about pop music these days. I love it very much. And so, weirdly, do my kids, even though they keep asking me about the lyrics, “Why does he feel like a fat kid in a pushchair?” Good question, kids.
Anyway, over to you. Have Everything Everything got That Something?
Jamie XX is on our radar, good or bad he has been shouting like a child down a hole for a good part of 7 years through his re-edits, remixes, his band the XX, and his own productions. Unbeknown to many music fans he has slammed a solid foot into music trends and sounds since he appeared in his late teens.
His ‘All Under One Roof Raving’ was arguably the anthem of last summer and left us drooling at the mouth for more. Almost a year later he has returned with his first full solo effort.
Thus far on this blog as well as with others outside of this realm there has been split debate over the early releases from this album. Some liked ‘Oh My Gosh’ but not ‘Loud Places’ and vice versa. So what was the album going to be like, and would we like it?
I may be following the pack on this and going against the feelings of others, but I really like this album. It’s got a bit of everything, a little pop, a little club, some chilled tracks, and a great flow for an album.
My main worry with this album was that it would become a bit same-ish after a couple tracks as did the last XX album, but Jamie XX kept me on my toes throughout the 11 track offering.
I find myself moving day to day on what are my stand out tracks. The fore-mentioned ‘Loud Places’ and ‘Oh My Gosh’ are big tracks. “Sleep Sound’ and ‘See Saw’ are great for driving…. actually I’m going to leave it there so you can get your head around them all for yourselves.
Happy June brothers, hopefully this album brings a little sunshine in what has been thus far a dreary summer!!
It’s a bit late this month, but I hope it’s worth the wait, Brothers. And before we get started, there’s a disclaimer here: I’m an unashamed Hot Chip fan. Since I heard The Warning back in 2006 I’ve been hooked. Back then they were a different proposition: new kids on the block, making music that didn’t really sound like anything else I’d listened to (and even more so on Coming On Strong, their 2004 debut, which I consumed the same year) and the antithesis of both the rock and electronic ‘bands’ I listened to as well. They didn’t look like pop stars, they didn’t sound like pop stars, (jesus, comparing them to Radiohead or Arcade Fire seemed odd, still does in some ways) but Over And Over clicked with something in me that I didn’t expect.
Once I got into the album, it’s clear they offered something more than everyone else: a sound that went between full-on dancefloor banger (Over And Over, No Fit State) r’n’b-tinged love songs (Boy From School, Colours) sprinkled with lovely oddities that just seemed like they weren’t trying to be anything at all other than a band just recording what they wanted (Don’t Dance, The Warning, Careful). I saw them at Lovebox that year, they were a strange experience. Playing ridiculously early on the main stage, they were a nervous-looking cadre of nerdy synth geeks, almost not engaging at all with the crowd but making a decent fist of studio-produced songs that didn’t always crossover to the live arena.
Nine years later comes their sixth album, and maybe their best yet – Why Make Sense – and in some ways they’re completely different and yet hardly removed from the collective that endeared me all those years ago. Where have they changed? Well, despite their great hooks and quirky album tracks The Warning, breakthrough that it was, felt like a band still finding their feet a little, and as a live proposition they were still green. Now, they are the finished product: one of the most inventive bands around, making records that are catchy, but intelligent, poppy but heartfelt and emotional, and somehow still sounding, well, like Hot Chip, even though in any album they’ll cross through five different genres. And live, they’re one of my favourite bands ever. Part of this is down to their development as a live act, whether it’s coming out of their shells as frontman/men, becoming more confident of their sound, honing their work from the studio to the stage much more coherently, and now crossing the tricky rubicon from making an album with synths, drum machines and all sorts, and making that sound heavy live. More of that later.
In reality, they’ve taken a step forward at each album’s release, but Made In The Dark was a watershed: they didn’t succumb to temptation to try and make hits, they just did what they did, with a few more touches, a few different synths, but never moved away from making music they wanted to. That album had more standout tracks – One Pure Thought, Ready For The Floor and Shake A Fist – all the while not treating their fans (old and new) like fools, and making repeated listens bear fruit each time. And One Life Stand was as fully-formed as they’ve got up to now. I love each album and track in their own right, but until Why Make Sense I didn’t know if they’d better it, however much I loved In Our Heads.
But Why Make Sense is a revelation. It’s Hot Chip, undoubtedly, but it just feels like another leap forward. There’s reasons for this – admitted and assumed – but for a band that’s been making records for over a decade, and in that ever-changing electronic/pop arena it’s hard enough to stay relevant and keep fresh. I think Hot Chip have managed it as they’ve never been interested in doing anything ‘cool’, and so they never have to beat anything but their own expectations. But the band’s ever-growing side projects – Al and Felix’s brilliant New Build, Joe and Raf’s 2 Bears, Alexis’ About Group, B&O, Atomic Bomb Band – have clearly let them scratch an in-between-album itch that means each new album means they’re fully focused and also more relaxed at the same time. For a band that have been going so long, (in modern terms for non-rock) they seem still to be the best of friends, and while Alexis and Joe are the hub of the band’s music and lyrics, there’s a gentle creep to a more collaborative ethos that can only be positive. But above all, they still manage to put their finger on the themes that have kept them bubbling from the start – love, friendship, the world they live in, growing old – that they manage to convey in such rich, listenable ways. Why Make Sense combines all of these brilliantly.
Musically, it’s as close to an actual band as they’ve ever been. If that seems throwaway, it’s not. But touring and their transformation into a mighty stage entity, means they wanted to make an album that could translate most directly to a live experience as they ever have. No 5 synth parts, two 909s, three guitars. With regular drummer Sarah Jones and multi-instrumentalist Rob Smoughton (The Grosnvenor) in tow on tour they are able to realise anything in their back catalogue, and their ‘warm-up’ tour this month, which I caught at Oval Space in London, was the best gig I’ve ever seen of them, and I’m well into double figures. Musically, and live, they are on the up, something that’s a rare path when you’ve been making music as long as they have.
There’s so much to love about Why Make Sense, which – to a Hot Chip first timer – would encapsulate everything they’re about as a band. Huarache Lights is an absolute banger of an opener. And all honed around fat leads (and a vocal phrase that can’t but help make me smile about the Happy Mondays’ Hallelujah, was it meant? who cares?) and lyrics that exalt getting ready, and putting on your Nikes. “Machines are great but, best when they come to life, you can’t put your finger on the pulse of the night” comes out of the second verse and is just lyrically as punchy as ever. Yet straight away they’re questioning their place in the world in their 30s, are they still relevant? “Replace us with the things that do the job better”. This song alone makes a mockery of that, but the fact they’ll openly bear such an obvious insecurity in their opening song to a new album just endears them to me even more.
There really isn’t a weak song on the entire album. Every one feels considered, meant, and all fizz with life, energy, emotion and intelligence. Love Is The Future’s staccato beats hark back to their early days, jaunty and lush, with careworn lyrics, until De La Soul’s Posdnous leaps out. Not afraid to get a few friends enlisted if it works. It doesn’t feel frivolous, and it’s a song that Green Gartside’s skills are lent to the string arrangement. Cry For You feels like a cover of a nervous r’n’b record mixed with house music – so much of their roots are in the genre, something that’s always felt obvious and therefore unique to them – but the lyrical and music interplay of Goddard and Taylor’s vocals is wonderful, with the arpeggiated synths and blocky percussive hits proving there’s nothing as simple as a Hot Chip album track.
Started Right is a surefire future single. Flipping from shuffling percussion and funk bass/notes into a mighty string-led hook it’s pure pop, impossible not to sing along to or smile while you’re doing it. But just as they’re wandering into all killer territory comes White Wine And Fried Chicken: a song that no one else could make as well. The title, the sampled vocals, the balladry wrapped up in a modern-day love song. Dark Night follows, arguably another standout track. Where five years ago you’d have had another banger, this is a guitar-led (Doyle’s influence growing as it has done over the past three albums) gem. One of the best tracks I think they’ve written, and leaning to so many of their influences, painted with their own palette. The chorus and walking bassline is sublime, as is a rare lead for Joe’s vocals. It sounds like a slice of electronic, Eno-produced pop that would’ve graced the top ten in 1986, combining their ability to write a great tune, stand with one foot in the past and the present, and write lyrics that invite you in and make you think.
Easy To Get sounds great live (much more vibrant and raucous than this slick love song) – Doyle’s licks to the fore again – and again the vocal interplay between Joe and Alexis is wonderful, at first stripped out, then – much like Started Right – lush layers added on the bridge and chorus. “Why don’t you take a rest, talking something we’ve outgrown”, again taking aim at their perceived age and place in the musical landscape. Need You Now is more proof of the polymorphic nature of their songcraft. I’d listened to it with the brilliant video a few times thinking it was a song about an imagined break-up, but it’s more resonant than that: it’s about terrorism, war, the world that’s just, well fucked up. “Never dreamed I could belong to a state that don’t see right from wrong”. It’s startlingly relevant to the next five years (did they have a bet on the election? it’s not hard to understand given Al’s recent appearance on the World At One, but they are never overt about their themes and the hammer is always in a silk glove) and shows them as a band with a conscience, not just a heart.
So Much Further To Go is as close to something that feels a little unplaced, but its lovely harmonies are a wistful sounding (isn’t that just Alexis’ voice, whatever he sings?) entree to the album’s title track. Why Make Sense – like so many late-album belters before it (think Hold On, No Fit State, Take It In, Ends Of The Earth) – is a tour de force. Distorted guitars and reverbed percussion with Alexis’ voice dual-tracked and strong, it feels as much rock as they’ve done anywhere recently. It lifted the roof off Oval Space, (many of their songs are purposely beefed-up live, and to startling effect) and is almost a mission statement of their career: “Why make sense when the world around refuses? A winner lost is one who always chooses”. Hot Chip have always gone their own way, and if anything Why Make Sense shows they’ve been right from the start. They may never play Wembley Stadium, but you also know they’ve never aspired to that. They are a great festival band without the need to play the biggest arenas, and whatever the setting, there’s an intimacy to their music and lyrics that feels like it needs walls around it to truly resonate (which is why they always seem to blow away Brixton).
This is a triumphant record by a band both aware of and comfortable in their surroundings more than ever before. They may be older, but they’ve matured. They may seem like an outlier, but they’ve always been there, knocking on the mainstream’s door. And they’ve never sounded as good as this. That isn’t a negative on their previous work, it’s a description of just how good Why Make Sense is. It’s rewarding from the off, and I know I’ll still love it in ten years. I can’t wait to see what they’re making then.
thisisnothappening.net 