Metropolis 2017 kicks off on a chillingly Irish Saturday afternoon, with only the bricks and mortar of the RDS and surrounding bodies to fend off the cold. Being one of the country’s few festivals taking place at this time of year, expectations are set on a show that can begin to bridge the gap between the shimmering of Body and Soul and the last trumpets of Electric Picnic. Tara Stewart gets the ball rolling on the industries stage (a slight change of programme) and plays to a largely vacant room. Her last track, a brilliant mix of Bollywood and Jay-Z…
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John Maus strikes you as the kind of man who would be making music regardless of whether anyone was listening or not. And for a long time they weren’t. His first two albums, Songs and Love Is Real, went by largely unnoticed. It was only on the 2011 release of We Must Become the Pitiless Censors of Ourselves that critics started to really pay attention, despite a considerable and devout cult following having formed through the years. Most people would have been eager to capitalise after this new-found attention; to milk that cow for all it’s worth. But Maus is not most…
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…in which we are once again plunged into the broken mind of Sebastian Castellanos. He may sound like an extra member of The Strokes but he is in fact a self-destructive police detective with, naturally, a drinking problem. You already know the drill: Sebastian is a maverick who bucks the system and is going to get his ass in a sling, but underneath his grizzled exterior he’s a sensitive soul who is searching for answers at the bottom of a bottle and trying to forget something very sad that happened to him a long time ago. One might argue that…
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In July I wrote that Spider-Man: Homecoming was the funniest Marvel movie so far, a distinction that has lasted all of, oh, three months. Actually, Thor: Ragnorok is the funniest one yet. The Marvel factory, whatever its faults, is pumping out plain old good times on overtime hours. Ragnorok, the third and presumably final solo outing for Chris Hemsworth’s Men’s Health Goldilocks, retains some of the studio’s familiar issues, but makes up for them by being — for long stretches — honest to goodness hilarious. The Lord — sorry, God — of thunder is front of house, but Kiwi film-maker Taiki Waititi is the man of the hour,…
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It’s a laid-back love-in and we’re all invited – we always knew these two kids would get it together. The Melbourne-Pennsylvanian alliance of Courtney Barnett and Kurt Vile sprang organically from the grooves of Vile’s Smoke Ring For My Halo, an album with deep personal resonance for Barnett. Her then band, CB4, ended up supporting Vile’s own Violators a couple of years later as his Wakin on a Pretty Daze record was taking hold in people’s consciousness, and the two became gradual friends over the ensuing years’ international festival circuit. Ideas were bounced, files were shared, and eventually Lotta Sea…
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Two years ago Julien Baker put out her debut, Sprained Ankle. A white-knuckled, minimal lo-fi listen, the EP was predominantly Baker and her guitar with the occasional flourish of piano. It was an intimate-veering-on-discomforting voyage into a late teenager’s emotional fragility, isolation, and desperation. There are too many things to be said about that record, but needless to say, it was fantastic from back to front. In keeping with its low-key aesthetic, it was released via Bandcamp wherein it subsequently exploded and pushed Baker into the indie rock spotlight. Upon the announcement of her latest full length, Turn Out The…
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Sunday evenings are traditionally reserved for reclining in a state of hazed relaxation for as long as physically possible. A sleepy air descends upon the climatic hours of the weekend, you grasp tightly onto the feeling of not having to fulfil any commitments. And yet there is, always lingering in the background, a sense of agitation. The calm is impeded by a menacing presence, the knowledge of something inevitable and an uncertainty of what has happened or will reveal itself in due course. The Ooz has all the sonic hallmarks of a Sunday night: Calming, alluring, hypnotic, but also audacious,…
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With The Ritual, director David Bruckner (VHS) bolsters the recent rise of smart indie horror, bringing together a talented cast to recreate the Adam Nevill novel with suitably unsettling and outright creepy results; one that pays distinct homage to the usual ‘monster in the woods’, jump-scare tropes but still manages to transcend them with an intelligent script, great production and acting and deft directing. On a night out in London, a tight-knit group of five friends’ relationship is rocked when one them is brutally murdered during a robbery. The four remaining mates decide to have an upcoming stag do in…
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So here we are, Liam Gallagher has done something he would never said he’d do and presented to us his debut solo album, As You Were, a straightforward rock album with no if’s, no but’s and certainly no synthesisers. As You Were amounts to just about everything it says on the tin. Ironically enough though, for his alleged tribute to all things “rock ‘n’ roll”, Gallagher has called upon the A-List of pop-songwriters, Greg Kurstin and Andrew Wyatt. While there’s no stand-out strokes of genius, the album should be accredited with worthy acclaim for its lack of filler tracks – It’s…
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On the penultimate night of the first Dublin Podcast Festival, the Bord Gais theatre played host to Brian Reed, creator of S-Town. The somewhat sparse crowd was treated to a sixty-minute conversation and a Q & A session which included previously unheard clips and stories from the podcast. Beginning with an excerpt from a conversation with John B. McLemore, the anti-hero of the podcast; the audience was thrust back into the world of Bibb county, Alabama, or Shit town as it’s affectionately known. The night was billed as ‘A new way to tell a story’ and this theme was explored…