Shout Out Louds - Work

Following their second album, Sweden's Shout Out Louds took a break and spent six months apart to regroup. While assorted members went to LA or stayed in Stockholm, singer/songwriter Adam Olenius headed to Melbourne, where he wrote a bunch of new tracks using a synth, an acoustic guitar and a laptop. After some back and forth exchanges with his bandmates in far-flung corners of the globe, Work was born.

While it was written in Australia, this latest long-player was recorded in Seattle with a non-Swede (Phil Ek – The Shins, Fleet Foxes, Band of Horses) at the production helm for the first time. The most noticeable difference here is that there is a lot less going on than in their previous two recordings. It still has the catchy indie-pop sound that fans of the band will be familiar with, but there was a deliberate effort this time to leave plenty of open spaces, to scale back the percussion and the strings and to allow the songs space to breathe. In spite of this, Shout Out Louds still sound a little indistinguishable. At times they come across like Phoenix being fronted by a Scandinavian Robert Smith. Of course, there are far worse things to sound like than that, and, overall, this is a pleasing enough collection of perky pop songs and lower tempo numbers.

Solid as it is though, Work still doesn't catapult Shout Out Louds to the level of greatness that the Swedes have been agonisingly close to for so long and, therefore, they seem destined to remain the kind of band that you like rather than love.

The Cribs at Manning Bar, Sydney

THE CRIBS
BRIDEZILLA
Manning Bar, 19/02/10

Considering Bridezilla have been winning fans around the city over the past four years, it's somewhat surprising that this was their debut performance at Manning Bar. Less surprising was that their atmosphere-drenched show was enthralling. Most notable was frontwoman Holiday Carmen-Sparks' increasingly impressive vocal range. Balancing out their intense sound with plenty of smiles throughout, the Sydney quintet are clearly enjoying themselves at the moment, and well they might, as they remain one of the most captivating acts in Australia today.

The Cribs' dynamic has always been appealing; three brothers across drums, bass and guitar, with duelling lead vocals. So adding another guitarist would seem crazy, except when he happens to be a certain Johnny Marr. Regardless, it was going to be interesting to see whether it would be the same visceral, raucous Cribs experience.

Bursting into We Were Aborted, guitarist Ryan Jarman stooped over his mic, stomped his feet and spat lyrics as loud as he could in his strong Wakefield accent as veins popped out of his neck. With that, it was instantly clear that, while the addition of a member of indie royalty added to their depth of sound, it took nothing away from the Jarman brothers' insane live energy. The crowd, who had waited four years to see them, went nuts as Hey Scenesters and Cheat On Me provoked early singalongs. Indeed, there were few songs that weren't singalongs, as this set featured more infectious choruses than your average pop act could come up with in a lifetime, all delivered with shouty punk rock sensibilities. Every “whoa-oh” was hollered back at the band with increasing gusto, and, as Ryan questioned where all the crowd-surfers were, waves of bodies began to flow towards the stage.

The epic Be Safe offered an alternative to the punchy songs that surrounded it, featuring a video of Sonic Youth's Lee Ranaldo's spoken word prose as the band belted out another massive chorus, “I know a place we can go where you'll fall in love so hard that you'll wish you were dead.”

Ending with Men's Needs, City of Bugs and a spot of stage-diving, the quartet left the sweat-drenched crowd breathless. Even four albums in, The Cribs' raw energy and vivacity hasn't abated, and to combine that with tunes to die for is to be in the presence of one of the most thrilling live bands around.

Slinging things at Craig Bellamy's head

The state of football at the moment is pretty depressing, and I feel increasingly distanced from the game with every news headline I read.

I've been doing my best to avoid the whole John Terry circus, but I find it amazing, considering how many negative stories he has been at the centre of over the years, that it has taken people until 2010 to question his character. I understand the argument that a player's personal life and their career should be allowed to remain separate, but I wholeheartedly agree with the decision to strip the England captaincy from him. While he didn't break any laws with his infidelity, captaining a nation should be held in reverence by somebody prepared to be a role model and ambassador. I'm not sure whether Rio Ferdinand quite suits that description but, if England win the World Cup this year and Terry still had the armband, it would have left a seriously bad taste in my mouth. I only mentioned a couple of months ago how I wasn't sure I even wanted England to win it, as the thought of Ashley Cole becoming an MBE makes me want to vomit, and this latest Terry incident has only further fuelled my negativity.

It's not just players that have been failing to shroud themselves in glory either. Certain supporters have been doing their bit to drag the game down too of late by throwing objects from the stands. There can't be many people who haven't wanted to sling something at Craig Bellamy's head at some stage or other, but, even in an emotionally charged situation, very few of us would ever actually do it.

Elsewhere, governing bodies and clubs are adding to the miserable climate. In international football, the decision to ban Togo from the next two African Cups of Nations was mind-blowingly heartless and ill-judged, while, back home, Pompey are in all kinds of trouble and even the mighty Manchester United are in a mess and are the subject of protests from their usually subservient fans. If the biggest club in the world can't get its finances right, what hope is there for anyone else?

It's almost enough to make a person want to give up on football altogether, but then something happens that reminds you why you fell in love with the game in the first place. For me, it was seeing the greatest assist of all time by Real Madrid's Guti recently. It was a magnificent piece of artistry and, with the simple act of backheeling a football, this player made me realise why I bother with the sport. Because, at its purest, it is still the beautiful game, even if it is rife with idiots.

These New Puritans - Hidden

When your first record of Fall-influenced, guitar-led electro art-rock was reasonably well-received, you'd be forgiven for staying on that path. It's surprising then, that England's These New Puritans haven't so much changed direction as ripped up the whole road.

This isn't half-arsed, sloppy experimentation either. Hidden is as beautifully and precisely executed as it is ambitious. With its sombre arrangement of oboes and bassoons, opening classical overture Time Xone is soon steamrollered by the sinister, Eastern-influenced We Want War. Massive drums battle with horns, keys, choral harmonies, vocal samples and frontman (and songwriter) Jack Barnett's lyrics: “Can't you feel them breathing down your neck?”. Over seven minutes in length, it's an epic start. Elsewhere, the xylophone of Hologram contrasts with the gunshot drums of the Timbaland-esque Attack Music, as Barnett spits the chorus with venom.

A dystopian coming together of themes of nature and conflict, words are delivered both in aggressive chants (Under Fire) and delicately (White Chords) and are always intelligent, “Frames of colour litter the bracken, regal and strange.”

Swapping the safety of guitars for brass, woodwind, children's choirs and the sound of chains and knives was brave, and the Southend quartet should be applauded for their ambition. Aside from maybe sounding a bit like the result of some kind of futuristic tribal conflict between Massive Attack, Tricky, MIA and Telepathe, Hidden is almost completely undefinable.

An intriguing fusion of old and new, the challenging Hidden may not be the feel-good album of the summer, but it is outstanding. If you thought These New Puritans were little more than indie also-rans, think again.

Laneway Festival, Sydney

LANEWAY FESTIVAL
Sydney College Of The Arts
31/01/10

The venue may have changed, but the pleasant vibe that Sydney's most discerning festival crowd has created in previous years remained, and the SCA provided a pretty backdrop as Portland five-piece Hockey got festival-goers in the right mood with bucket-loads of infectious energy.

Philadelphia Grand Jury were their pleasingly chirpy selves and The Middle East's set featured some really strong moments, like Blood, which was Angus and Julia Stone meets Arcade Fire. While UK's Wild Beasts falsettoed their way through a faintly disappointing turn, the sassy and stylish Bridezilla (below) were simply divine. In a constantly impressive performance, Heart You Hold and Saint Francine in particular illustrated the combination of songwriting depth and enthralling stage dynamic that has become synonymous with Sydney's favourite quintet.

If The xx were overwhelmed by the crowd's fervour at their excellent display, then Mumford & Sons must have been pinching themselves at both the size and the reaction of their audience. “As a nation, you've embraced us more warmly than any other country, including our own,” singer Marcus Mumford gushed. Confident enough to throw away Hottest 100 winner Little Lion Man at the mid-point, the Brits' set may have lacked edge, but was nonetheless a nice mix of upbeat folk and quieter numbers.

Watching anti-folk legend Daniel Johnston (below) is never an entirely comfortable experience, and, dishevelled and singing from a lyric sheet, he cut a fragile figure. However, it didn't take long for his distinctive vocal and innocent yet melancholy lyrics to lodge themselves firmly in the hearts of fans well aware of his battles with the demons of his mind. When he sang: “That rock 'n' roll, it saved my soul,” it was a moment of unforgettable, unparalleled resonance.


As the food queues grew to ridiculous lengths at the back of the site, Sarah Blasko took people's minds off their rumbling bellies with a beautiful and immaculate performance, Echo and the Bunnymen offered up some hits with typical swagger and then Florence and The Machine (top and below) ripped through the headline slot with gusto. Backed by a band which included a harpist, Florence Welch - all long legs and red hair - prowled the stage as she belted out songs from her lauded debut album with an unbelievably stunning and powerful vocal. Her stage presence too was mesmerising. She bashed a drum, climbed atop amps and struck poses in front of an awestruck audience. By the time she ended with a winning trio of Dog Days Are Over, You've Got The Love and Rabbit Heart (Raise It Up) - all of which showcased that lung-busting voice - she had the crowd going apeshit. She may only have one album to her name, but tonight proved that Florence is already a worthy headliner and well on the way to becoming an icon in her own right.

Laura Marling at The Famous Spiegeltent, Sydney

LAURA MARLING
The Famous Spiegeltent, Hyde Park, 25/01/10

“I bloody love Australia,” Laura Marling told the sold-out crowd at the start of her three nights in Hyde Park, before going on to say what a pleasure it also was to play in such a lovely venue. Indeed, The Spiegeltent was the perfect setting for such a performer, and the English songwriter created a suitably intimate ambiance with her intelligent folk and charming stage presence.

Not surprisingly, considering her debut album is over two years old, she was keen to play lots of new material. Backed by a five piece band, including Tim Hart and Jake Tarasenko from Boy and Bear on banjo and bass, her new upbeat country folk numbers like Rambling Man sounded great, and she slotted in some more familiar tracks too. The wonderful Ghosts from her first record gave a reminder of the amazingly worldly lyrics she penned at such a young age: “Lover please do not fall to your knees/It's not like I believe in everlasting love.” The title track of her upcoming sophomore album, I Speak Because I Can, suggested that, at the ripe old age of 19 (her 20th birthday was still a week away), her words have even more melancholic depth. “My husband left me last night,” she sighed.


The use of cello, keys, drums, mandolin, guitar, bass and banjo offered a round sound, yet the set really dazzled when Marling stood alone with just her voice and acoustic guitar. The first song she ever wrote, Failure, again served to illustrate what a naturally gifted songwriter she is. Amongst solo renditions of other oldies and newies was a cover of Neil Young's The Needle and The Damage Done, and every nuance of her beautiful voice had the crowd entranced.

When the band took to the stage again though, they offered another highpoint. My Manic And I built up slowly, with shakers, keys and accordion unobtrusively creating a brooding atmosphere before pounding drums brought things to a rousing conclusion as Marling lifted her soft vocal a few notches. Having already warned the crowd that there would be no encore, she ended with Alas, I Cannot Swim and the promise she would be back in Australia soon. Let's hope so, as this was a truly enchanting evening from one of the finest young talents around.


Review by Rob Townsend