Cass McCombs
Big Wheel and Others
[Domino Recording Company]
Inscrutability is a fundamental part of McCombs’ vibe. Though his lyrics are continually peppered with recognizable references and even re-purposed clichés (be they biblical, literary or folkloric) and though at times you can get hints of the idea of Cass McCombs, the person behind his piercing, green-eyed glare remains elusive to the end. Indeed he actively celebrates this gnomic streak, Keatsily suggesting his name is “written in water and I’m gone again.”
Big Wheel’s other main indulgence is the fact that it is a double album, making it almost essentially too long. Whereas his twin efforts in 2011, WIT’S END and Humor Risk split his tunes into loose thematic groupings, Big Wheel includes everything from his more dirgeful ambles (if not ever being as morose as WIT’S END) to his most raucous throttles with a jazzily chromatic guitar instrumental and some skronkily caterwauled saxophone intertwined for good measure.
By comparison, this record sounds less focused, but one gets the feeling even from the title’s “and Others” that McCombs was aiming for just that kind of black-humoured, fathomless miscellany found here. There’s nothing as seismically soul-sighing as County Line or any winking continuations of the Lionkiller saga to be found on Big Wheel, but it is by no means short of high-points (the devil-baiting Morning Star and the late Karen Black’s haunting turn on the second of two versions of Brighter), even if it is bereft of clues as to the real identity of the modern American vagabond. – Ian Lamont
See also:
Bob Dylan – “Love and Theft”, Songs: Ohia – Magnolia Electric Co, Elliott Smith – either/or
Visionist
I’m Fine
[Lit City Trax]
Trends in the UK underground never really die, but winter through their seeming antiquity to emerge with a post-thaw vigour. Visionist figure skates Grimes’ glaciers with grace and confidence on this EP. Think Zomby without the pathological ostentation – spectral vocals and synth-flute arpeggios rivet up Warp-deep bass trenches with simple elegance. There are few risks taken, meaning I’m Fine never quite reaches the sublime, but it is certainly worth digging your snow boots out for. – Daniel Gray
Blouse
Imperium
[Captured Tracks]
In my teenage girlfriend’s bedroom, decapitated plaster statues decorated her vanities and worktops. Imperium’s cover art resounds then: Blouse sound just like the memory of those adolescent chambers. This collection of dream pop shrouds itself in layers of echo that mimic the brushstroke-blur sentimentality paints the past with. Sadly though, while nostalgia for your first love might be grounded in real profundity, you won’t be unearthing any love letters to Blouse anytime soon. This hazy excursion is a mush of best-forgotten songwriting naivety and alt-rock torpor. – Daniel Gray
Arctic Monkeys
AM
[Domino]
A madcap handbrake turn out of a meandering cruise towards irrelevancy, Arctic Monkeys’ absolute coldcock of a fifth LP stuns in its precision and subtle eclecticism. The blundering dilettantism that seemed destined to drop following Alex Turner’s gooey-eyed declaration of Dr. Dre’s influence turns out to in fact be an understated, invigorating appropriation worthy of Noel Gallagher’s apogee as an accidental collage master. Neither as arid as Suck It And See, nor as try-hard as Humbug, and almost as critical as their debut. – Daniel Gray
Youth Funeral
Symptom of Time
[No Guidance]
New Hampshire’s Youth Funeral showcase their discordant, wonky take on Orchid/Pg. 99-style screamo on their debut EP. Constrained to the roughly two minute mark for most of the five tunes, there’s a lot packed into these songs, with spidery guitar lines running all over the place, moments of feedback-laden chaos and searing, passionate vocals from three of the members. Recorded by Will Killingsworth, of Orchid, Ampere et al., it sounds as brutal and urgent as those bands’ records did in the late 1990s. – Ivan Deasy
Future Virgins
Late Republic
[Recess Records]
Western Problems from 2011 was one of my favourite albums of that year, there was a charming rough-hewn feel to it that’s largely absent from this, their second LP. What remains is the band’s undeniable ear for melody, anthemic choruses and honest, relatable lyrics. Somewhat overproduced then, but the core of what makes Future Virgins great is still here. There’s also a lovely cover of If You Don’t Cry by The Magnetic Fields, which is worth the price of admission alone. – Ivan Deasy
Ataraxie
L’Être et la Nausée
[Weird Truth Productions]
The third full length from France’s Ataraxie is a towering monument of death/doom metal, 80 minutes of alternately snail-like doom crawling and vicious blast beat-driven death metal. The opening and closing tracks are the most dynamically varied in the set, incorporating the styles mentioned above, along with sections of clean instrumentation and vocals. The atmosphere of smothering bleakness established in Procession Of The Insane Ones reaches its zenith on Nausée, the aural equivalent of watching a two-toed sloth climb a tree for half an hour. – Ivan Deasy
Drake
Nothing Was The Same
[OVOXO]
Well, he didn’t exactly start from the bottom, but he’s here, so we’re going to have to get used to Drake. With a maturing confidence, a worrying mania for girl drama and a set of decent hooks, he makes his most complete album yet, ranging from full-on macho bravado (Starting From The Bottom, bonus track All Me) to almost unlistenable simpery (Own It). Still, the man can rap, and he even does it sometimes, for a change.
Janelle Monae
The Electric Lady
[Wondaland]
Approaching soul-star levels, Janelle Monae tours the genres on her latest, strolling Bad Brains chord progressions with her impeccable voice on one song, only to dodge Vice City synths in the next. She has enough personality to hold off the likes of Solange and Erykah Badu as they guest, providing a freak-music centre-pole that keeps the strangeness at least within consistent bounds. It’s interesting, I’ll give you that. – Karl McDonald
Bill Callahan
Dream River
[Drag City]
So Dream River is not the Billo-does-dub wig out that may have been hinted at previously, but when an artist’s groove is as comfortably worn as Callahan’s, any slight change to the ecosystem where his sombre reflections dwell feels seismic. Dream River is perpetually pensive and drawn; I imagine Callahan meditatively free-associating, knee-deep in the titular river undulating between thumb-strummed chords in time to the ebbs and flows while accompanying sounds echo in the surrounding canyons. Deep, man. – Ian Lamont
Haim
Days Are Gone
[Polydor]
Haim’s hard-hyped brand of chewing gum pop seems to have a lot of earnest defenders in the face of their major label PR onslaught. If someone gave Hanson that precious breathing room to get out of their teens (and they actually were girls, rather than looking a bit like them) you’d get the kind of pushy-parent three-car garage suburban California vibes that Haim smack of. A finely executed Wilson Phillips or Little Lies-era Fleetwood Mac throwback that still seems slightly sinister. – Karl McDonald
