Music round-up
I seem to listen to less and less music as the years go by. In 2010 I’ve watched loads of sport, and been to more movies and radio recordings (mostly free, coincidentally) than gigs. Even my iPod listening is increasingly dominated by podcasts. Nonetheless, here follows some brief musings on music from this year.
Hopefully all these Sound Of... polls of “tastemakers” and Critics Choice awards won’t go on for too much longer. This year’s HOT TIP~! was Ellie Goulding, who’s only really made the cultural impact that all the breathless hyperbole suggested she would now she's done a seasonally-friendly cover and stuck it on an advert. The problem is that everything about her betrays her origins as a marketing project, artificially born out of target market analyses and box-checking exercises. Take her singing voice: with someone like Bjork, for example, you don't have trouble believing that it's her natural voice because she's such a bonkers character. Goulding seems like a nice, normal girl who puts on a weird singing voice (like a toddler's, as someone memorably described it) because she's been told to.
Basically, just get the songs and artists out there and we’ll tell you who we like best. The breakout star of 2010 was Ben Drew, aka Plan B, who wasn’t eligible for 2010’s Sound Of polls. He’d already released one album, a fairly hardcore hip-hop affair that never permeated the mainstream. All the more surprising, then, that his next move was to release a fantastic modern pop-soul record that connected with the masses despite his previous history, and to duly become a star. The Defamation of Strickland Banks is a concept album that actually works - a worthy heir to the Streets’s sublime A Grand Don’t Come For Free in that sense, even if the quality dips towards the end.
With the likes of Tinie Tempah, Professor Green and Devlin all chipping in, British “urban” stuff is enjoying a bit of a growth period, at least until the next craze comes along. Generally though most pop now completely passes me by and I couldn’t tell you what any song by Justin Bieber, Jason Derulo or The Wanted sounds like, which I suspect is for the best. Oddly enough, I’ve been following the careers of the likes of Katy Perry, Eliza Doolittle, Rihanna, Alexandra Burke, etc somewhat more closely. I wonder why that is?
I do at least know who currently holds the number 1 position, though I doubt there’s anybody in the country who doesn’t. Such is the ubiquity of The X Factor now that I know the names of nearly all this year’s contestants despite not watching a single episode of this series. I could launch into a rant about how dreadful it is that Simon Cowell controls the whole country’s news agenda for several months but what’s the point? People obviously love it, and many still maintain that the manipulation and relentless leaked tales of behind-the-scenes shenanigans are perfectly okay because the contestants MUST know what to expect by now. So that’s alright then.
Anyway, back to positive thoughts. Much love is due for High Violet by The National, the Mystery Jets’s Serotonin, Vampire Weekend’s excellent sophomore effort Contra, Broken Social Scene’s Forgiveness Rock Record and Janelle Monae’s The ArchAndroid, which is almost bewilderingly bold and diverse.
Disappointments - ie records that didn't live up to previous efforts by bands I've liked - included The Hold Steady’s Heaven Is Wherever, Cherry Ghost’s Beneath This Burning Shoreline, The Gaslight Anthem’s American Slang and, regrettably, Postcards From A Young Man. The latter is not a bad album in any shape or form, but it failed to live up to the Manic Street Preachers' last two superb efforts. Strangely, for what was a self-proclaimed “last shot at mass communication”, catchy riffs were thin on the ground – Bradfield had seemingly used them all up on Journal For Plague Lovers, which as a post-punk record didn’t need to be especially catchy. You could never accuse MSP of doing things the easy way though, and that’s why I love ’em.
Grinderman 2 is also worth a mention. Nick Cave continues to not only make consistently good work well into his middle age, but also keeps pushing the boundaries of what constitutes acceptable behaviour for a man of his advanced years. The key is that most of the sleazier material is accompanied by the slyest of winks. Watch the video to Heathen Child - creepy, pretentious and knowingly ridiculous all at the same time.
The last word has to go to Arcade Fire. I’ve dribbled on about The Suburbs already, but I saw them at the O2 earlier this month and they were every bit as good as all the other times I’ve seen them. Making a vast, soul-less arena seem relatively intimate is a pretty neat trick. They are truly a once-in-a-generation band who deserve to be lauded with far more eloquence than I can manage. Oh well, this’ll have to do.
(Oh yeah, and did I mention how much I love Take That’s The Flood? I did? Oh good.)
A Happy New Year to one and all.
Hopefully all these Sound Of... polls of “tastemakers” and Critics Choice awards won’t go on for too much longer. This year’s HOT TIP~! was Ellie Goulding, who’s only really made the cultural impact that all the breathless hyperbole suggested she would now she's done a seasonally-friendly cover and stuck it on an advert. The problem is that everything about her betrays her origins as a marketing project, artificially born out of target market analyses and box-checking exercises. Take her singing voice: with someone like Bjork, for example, you don't have trouble believing that it's her natural voice because she's such a bonkers character. Goulding seems like a nice, normal girl who puts on a weird singing voice (like a toddler's, as someone memorably described it) because she's been told to.Basically, just get the songs and artists out there and we’ll tell you who we like best. The breakout star of 2010 was Ben Drew, aka Plan B, who wasn’t eligible for 2010’s Sound Of polls. He’d already released one album, a fairly hardcore hip-hop affair that never permeated the mainstream. All the more surprising, then, that his next move was to release a fantastic modern pop-soul record that connected with the masses despite his previous history, and to duly become a star. The Defamation of Strickland Banks is a concept album that actually works - a worthy heir to the Streets’s sublime A Grand Don’t Come For Free in that sense, even if the quality dips towards the end.
With the likes of Tinie Tempah, Professor Green and Devlin all chipping in, British “urban” stuff is enjoying a bit of a growth period, at least until the next craze comes along. Generally though most pop now completely passes me by and I couldn’t tell you what any song by Justin Bieber, Jason Derulo or The Wanted sounds like, which I suspect is for the best. Oddly enough, I’ve been following the careers of the likes of Katy Perry, Eliza Doolittle, Rihanna, Alexandra Burke, etc somewhat more closely. I wonder why that is?
I do at least know who currently holds the number 1 position, though I doubt there’s anybody in the country who doesn’t. Such is the ubiquity of The X Factor now that I know the names of nearly all this year’s contestants despite not watching a single episode of this series. I could launch into a rant about how dreadful it is that Simon Cowell controls the whole country’s news agenda for several months but what’s the point? People obviously love it, and many still maintain that the manipulation and relentless leaked tales of behind-the-scenes shenanigans are perfectly okay because the contestants MUST know what to expect by now. So that’s alright then.Anyway, back to positive thoughts. Much love is due for High Violet by The National, the Mystery Jets’s Serotonin, Vampire Weekend’s excellent sophomore effort Contra, Broken Social Scene’s Forgiveness Rock Record and Janelle Monae’s The ArchAndroid, which is almost bewilderingly bold and diverse.
Disappointments - ie records that didn't live up to previous efforts by bands I've liked - included The Hold Steady’s Heaven Is Wherever, Cherry Ghost’s Beneath This Burning Shoreline, The Gaslight Anthem’s American Slang and, regrettably, Postcards From A Young Man. The latter is not a bad album in any shape or form, but it failed to live up to the Manic Street Preachers' last two superb efforts. Strangely, for what was a self-proclaimed “last shot at mass communication”, catchy riffs were thin on the ground – Bradfield had seemingly used them all up on Journal For Plague Lovers, which as a post-punk record didn’t need to be especially catchy. You could never accuse MSP of doing things the easy way though, and that’s why I love ’em.
Grinderman 2 is also worth a mention. Nick Cave continues to not only make consistently good work well into his middle age, but also keeps pushing the boundaries of what constitutes acceptable behaviour for a man of his advanced years. The key is that most of the sleazier material is accompanied by the slyest of winks. Watch the video to Heathen Child - creepy, pretentious and knowingly ridiculous all at the same time.
The last word has to go to Arcade Fire. I’ve dribbled on about The Suburbs already, but I saw them at the O2 earlier this month and they were every bit as good as all the other times I’ve seen them. Making a vast, soul-less arena seem relatively intimate is a pretty neat trick. They are truly a once-in-a-generation band who deserve to be lauded with far more eloquence than I can manage. Oh well, this’ll have to do.
(Oh yeah, and did I mention how much I love Take That’s The Flood? I did? Oh good.)
A Happy New Year to one and all.
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