• Angel Olsen – Burn Your Fire for No Witness

    Ah, Angel Olsen, sad-eyed lady of St. Louis. Where most musicians write of their love life, Olsen seems to be dealing in the death of love. In this respect, Burn Your Fire For No Witness is less eleven songs than a series of romantic crime scenes, the outline of the bodies chalked out in bewitching melody; cruel words lying like spent bullet casings. Yet, as the emotionally bruising, wonderfully titled, first track ‘Unfucktheworld’ makes clear, our girl is still holding out hope, “I wanted nothing but for this to be the end / For this to never be a tight…

  • Wild Beasts – Present Tense

    When Kendal quartet Wild Beasts emerged in 2008 with debut album Limbo, Panto, it seemed that, at last, here was a band ready to rally to Neil Hannon’s battle-cry, “Elegance against ignorance. Difference against indifference. Wit against shit”. It’s an impression that subsequent albums have only served to strengthen. Fourth album Present Tense finds them venturing further out into the electronic wasteland first colonised on Smother. The sounds are scrubbed clean, in places glacially cool, a perfect contrast to emotions that bubble lava-hot beneath the surface. In most respects, it’s their most straightforward work – the vocal histrionics scaled back, sounds streamlined, ideas…

  • Malibu Shark Attack

    Tucked into a corner of Weaver’s Court Business Park are Studios 2 and 3 of Start Together. Control room, recording booths, a treasure trove of sound equipment – this is Rocky O’Reilly’s manor, the place where the one-time Oppenheimer man, and production maestro, has helped deliver a dizzying array of music. Sitting in his favourite seat, the one beside the mixing console, Rocky has invited me here to tell me about his latest endeavour, Malibu Shark Attack. There is reason to be intrigued. First off, it’s the first band he’s been a part of since Oppenheimer called it quits in…

  • Desert Hearts – Enturbulation = No Challenge

    “The opposite of harmonious, cooperative, respectful, calm, serene, disciplined”. A process of “agitating or disturbing”. As anyone who’s ever seen them can confirm, such words could serve as a neat description of Desert Hearts. They are, in fact, taken from the the Wiktionary definition of ‘Enturbulation’, a word coined by L. Ron Hubbard, used primarily by Scientologists and which, now, finds itself gracing the title of the new Desert Hearts album. One of the fundamental practices of Scientology is ‘auditing’, a procedure through which the individual revisits the traumas of the past as a means of elevating them to a…

  • James Blake – Overgrown

    Overgrown, James Blake’s second album, is a tender, heart-sore thing. The music itself is soulful, full of yearning and quiet sadness. And that voice. It’s so gentle, soft as a phantom tap on the shoulder and ghost words whispered in the ear. The perfect medium, then, for songs that are as blissful as that sweet, half-light moment when wakefulness is extinguished and you surrender to the Sandman’s embrace. The title track sets the tone. It’s the sort of music that could come with an ‘In Case of Emergency’ sticker – soothing, unhurried, the song as sedative, to be broken out…

  • The Tell Tale-Hearts: Desert Hearts

    Seven years since they last released an album, Desert Hearts return, vision undimmed and armed with a magnificent new record. And, as Francis Jones discovers, the passing of time has not tamed them. I’m sitting downstairs in Voodoo bar in Belfast awaiting the arrival of Desert Hearts. I’m here to interview them about their new album, Enturbulation=No Challenge. The last – and only previous – time I interviewed this band was back in 2006, around the release of their second album, Hotsy Totsy Nagasaki. My memories of that evening are not altogether pleasant. Drummer Chris Heaney had recently departed the…

  • Vanilla Gloom – Vexed EP

    Vanilla Gloom. It sounds like the sort of thing a depressed Willy Wonka might create. A grunge gumdrop, say. Just a taste and you’re transported back, back, back in time, all the way to the early-Nineties and a rain-slicked Seattle. Creatures in plaid lumberjack shirts and distressed jeans stalk the land, stomping their enemies under their Doc Marten-ed heels, paying tribute to King Kurt. Times are heavy. Times are good. Vanilla Gloom’s Vexed EP will take you back to those times just as surely as any magic lozenge. They’re a new-fangled, guitar-toting, female three-piece. They’re from Derry, originally, now based…