March 5, 2012
Review: Julia Holter – ‘Ekstasis’
Julia Holter – Ekstasis
RVNG INTL
Despite springing from the same creative well as LA cohorts Nite Jewel and Ariel Pink, composer/performer Julia Holter has always been somewhat other. The lo-fi aesthetics that permeate her work to date have been more a burden of necessity than an artistic medium in themselves; Holter not allowing technological restrictions to hamper her creative energy, while simultaneously avoiding letting the compression and tape hiss define her sound. So unselfconscious in the delivery of her musical ideas is she, that Holter has even performed songs down a telephone line to Californian radio station KDVS, seeing no problem with squeezing her grandiose conceptual pop down the narrow wires.
A definition and re-definition of artistic identity — informed by both a classical and unorthodox musical education — led to last year’s sublime Tragedy: an ambitious album project loosely based on Euripides’ Hippolytos, but severely lacking in the pretence and posturing that that would suggest. Gently arranged field recordings and Holter’s detached vocals, reminiscent in tone and delivery to cult psychedelic folk singer Linda Perhacs, demonstrated a maturity of composition and pop sensibility far beyond her years.
Now comes Ekstasis, written over the last three years in tandem with its predecessor, but born from Tragedy’s lighter, more forgiving moments, and more perhaps in the mould of debut Eating The Stars. ‘Boy In The Moon’, its floating 8-minute centrepiece, is evidence of a clear intention to brighten the mood this time around, and its improvisational Casio meandering plays like a painstakingly composed ambient work of the highest order.
Poppier moments are never too far away with Holter, either. ‘Für Felix’ has a childlike quality, its vocal and melody evoking Nico’s seductive naivety, while ‘Marienbad’’s layered staccato and rolling Rhodes lines stick in the brain long into the haunting reverie of following track ‘Our Sorrows’.
‘Goddess Eyes II’, the sequel to one of Tragedy’s more memorable tunes, is a rhythmic and upbeat reimagining of its blueprint, the vocodered vocal phrase becoming an entrancing mantra long before the track’s conclusion, while ‘Four Gardens’ twists and turns from twinkling layers of Laurie Anderson-type synth to eastern harmonies over menacing beats. It’s a truly impressive work, as Holter performs vocal acrobatics while arranging scraps of musical ideas into fluctuating builds and drops along the way.
‘In The Same Room’, with its scrapbook-noir video that surfaced on the blogs a couple of weeks ago, is as straightforward a composition as Holter is ever likely to release; a pared-down drum machine supporting ‘conventional’ chord progressions and another of those childlike melodies.
Where Tragedy’s minimalist ambience is constructed in the ethereal vein of likeminded contemporaries such as Leyland James Kirby’s Caretaker project, Ekstasis examines its individual elements from a different angle, demonstrated most clearly on closing track ‘This Is Ekstasis’. Here, a cyclic bass figure supports bursts of saxophone and contrapuntal melodies, before the whole thing charges into a midway breakdown of spacious cello and vocals, an intermittent beat providing a structure that disorientates as it builds. It’s a challenging way to end an album, and one that bears rewards for those willing to buy into its lengthy ideals. It also serves as a perfect signing-off point for Holter’s last three years of explosive creativity: a culmination of the impressive development that runs through Tragedy and now Ekstasis, freeing her to explore still loftier climbs for her next project.
Read this review in context over at THE STOOL PIGEON
March 2, 2012
Live: Portico Quartet @ York Hall, London. 29.02.2012
In its standard guise, the cavernous York Hall in Bethnal Green is a boxing venue; the resplendent, 1920s veneer of its walls and balconies having stood witness to the sweat and the fear of many a bout in their time. What better place, then, to stage a performance by a modern jazz quartet who dabble in electronica, and who, after the release of their recent third album, have fully matured into a frightening live beast ready to deliver their progressive new sound to a capacity crowd.
That third album, Portico Quartet’s self-titled coming of age, provides the bedrock of their riveting 75-minute-plus set — perhaps being most conducive to the tight, jazz-infused electronica they now purvey. The urban jazz of earlier material occasionally pokes out its head — most notably on expanded versions of ‘Dawn Patrol’ and ‘Clipper’ from transitional second album Isla — and the foursome still occasionally take the time to demonstrate their considerable chops, but the complete exclusion of any tracks from Mercury-nominated debut Knee Deep In The North Sea fully underlines the group’s forward-thinking nature.
With double bass player Milo Fitzpatrick serenely holding court centre stage, drummer Duncan Bellamy performs rhythmical acrobatics in coaxing blips and samples from a selection of knobs, buttons and drums machines in front of him, sometimes ordaining to hit his kit too. Sax player Jack Wyllie, despite losing an instrument to theft at a recent Madrid date, periodically transitions between blowing the incessantly catchy melodies of ‘Spinner’ and filling in with subtle keyboard work, while Keir Vine is charged with hang duties — the inverted wok-shaped tuned percussion instrument that was once so crucial to the Portico Quartet sound now takes on a more harmonic role in the group’s more rhythm-based workouts.
And it’s these workouts that truly amaze. The minimal, brooding of ‘4096 Colours’ from the new album is transformed live into a stunning exercise in mesmeric IDM, its intricate arrangement forming the fulcrum of a set that manages to fit in contemplative ambience (‘Window Seat’), Bonobo-inflected beats (‘Ruins’), and polyrhythmic slow-builds (‘City Of Glass’).
So confident in their abilities are they that even an unnamed piece written in rehearsal the previous day — centred around a cyclic hang phrase and a healthy reliance on intuitive improvisation — doesn’t let up with the intensity. Sultry vocalist Cornelia, fresh from a nervy looking solo set of her own, reappeared for an encore of the delicate ‘Steepless’ from the new album — her performance infinitely more confident and alluring this time around.
It’s a faultless set: a proficient expansion of the group’s recent studio work. Portico Quartet aren’t just knocking on the door of experimental dance music, they are leading it in new and exciting directions.
Read this review in context over at THE STOOL PIGEON
March 1, 2012
Review: Damien Jurado – ‘Maraqopa’
Damien Jurado – Maraqopa
Secretly Canadian
Damien Jurado has never been short of competition in the field of Oregon folky-types, having to find his own space between bands like The Shins and The Fleets (to call the Fleet Foxes by their correct ’90s Britpop name). A string of albums and EPs from 1995 onwards saw the reclusive singer-songwriter establish a very personable and intimate performance style — one that sauntered through heartland rock during a three-year spell with Sub Pop before returning to the acoustic folk of his roots. Now he returns with Maraqopa; a more in-depth exploration of the genre’s past that shows a maturing performer not afraid to skirt the fringes of experimentation.
All of this perhaps makes it even more disappointing, then, that by the time the kitsch “doo doo da doo”s of ‘This Time Next Year’ have given way to the song’s whimsical tropidelica-folk stylings, much of Maraqopa’s early promise has evaporated. The tracks’s direct precedents saw Jurado on an enjoyably nostalgic trip down America’s west coast during the tail end of the ’60s, taking in the psych-folk of CSNY’s Déjà Vu (‘Nothing Is In the News’) and that of the rest of the Laurel Canyon crew (the fantastic ‘Life Away From The Garden’, ‘Maraqopa’).
The album’s subsequent nosedive is all the more surprising when considering that Jurado’s last effort, 2010’s stark triumph Saint Bartlett, was constructed from the same building blocks as this. Producer/performer Richard Swift is again at the controls, and the chemistry between the two can’t help but show itself on tracks like the magisterial ‘Reel To Reel’; a swirl of vibrato keys and tinkling xylophones over a Wrecking Crew beat and all soaked in the rain of the pair’s Pacific Northwest. But outside of its briefly attractive moments, Maraqopa is a collaboration that largely fails — a nonplussed sigh of an album, if you will.
There is very little of Saint Bartlett’s raw immediacy; nothing of the wearied splendour of ‘With Lightning In Your Hands’; no sign of the despondent, Neil Young ditch trilogy-type resignation that ran through ‘Rachel And Cali’. ‘Working Titles’ is a self-deprecating bit of introspection in triple time, its ’50s doo-wop group chorus harmonies elevating an otherwise mediocre arrangement, while there really is no excusing the run of second-rate acoustic workouts that constitutes the final four tracks. From twee throwaway ‘Everyone A Star’ to the barefaced filler of ‘Museum Of Flight’, they form a thick slab of schmaltzy wallpaper that culminates in closer ‘Mountains Still Asleep’’s trudging country-folk.
To give him his dues, Jurado has created what might be considered a progressive follow up to the finest moment of his 17-year career: an album that shows both range and an adeptness with pastiche. Yet it’s ultimately a swing-and-a-miss, one not rescued by brief moments of interest and fleeting glimpses of Jurado’s unquestionably strong songwriting ability.
Read this review in context over at THE STOOL PIGEON
February 24, 2012
Live: Pulled Apart By Horses @ Soul Cellar, Southampton. 22.02.12.
Booking agents take note: a city usually so starved of decent live music are that much more grateful upon receiving it. Such was the case at Southampton’s Soul Cellar, when, midway through a high octane version of new album track ‘Epic Myth’, a smile broke out across the face of Pulled Apart By Horses frontman Tom Hudson as he purveyed the carnage taking place in the pit in front of him.
A heaving crowd (a late-in-the-day change to a smaller venue obviously hadn’t been relayed to ticket sellers) continued to show their appreciation as the band tore through tracks from both their self-titled debut and its much-vaunted follow up Tough Love, never allowing adrenaline levels to drop from raucous opener ‘I Punched a Lion in the Throat’ through to ‘High Five, Swan Dive, Nose Dive’s closing refrain.
The band were faultless throughout, sometimes eerily so – a horizontal sojourn atop the crowd couldn’t even throw guitarist James Brown off his stride – all this despite claiming to be suffering from an early onset of tour fatigue.
“We made the mistake of getting wasted on the opening night in Glasgow”, explained Hudson during a rare breather, “and we’ve been hungover everyday since”.
“But, like, a good kind of hangover where you get to play gigs” Brown chips in, suggesting that the group’s one weakness may lie in the strength of its inter-song patter.
There was a distinct feeling in the air that this would be the last chance to catch these Leeds noiseniks in such an intimate setting, and the Soul Cellar crowd were not about to squander the chance to embrace this opportunity. Riff-heavy single ‘V.E.N.O.M’ is greeted with floor-buckling enthusiasm, sweat dripping from the ceiling adding a salty flavour to the beer, while early monster ‘Meat Balloon’ is given due reverence by the hardcore fans that were “were there when these guys started out, man”. But it’s the tracks from Tough Love that dominate the set, sounding more rounded, more developed than their boisterous predecessors, and earlier material is limited to a handful of fan favourites.
A brave encore of Nirvana’s ‘Tourettes’ – something that would have been a clichéd disappointment in the hands of a band more given to posturing – was delivered with pitch-perfect exertion, fitting seamlessly into the PABH sound in a way that divulged an obvious influence. By the end, it had all become too much for the band to resist, and they too broke free from the restraints of the stage to prowl the depths of the crowd, or stalk its perimeter from on high.
Hudson seemed genuinely blown away by the audience response, with the band even taking to Twitter after the show to proclaim that “Southampton pounded H.A.R.D!” No, Essentially Eclectic doesn’t know what the initials stand for either. Answers on a postcard.
Read this review in context over at THE STOOL PIGEON
February 23, 2012
Review: Young Magic – ‘Melt’
Young Magic – Melt
Carpark
There are probably two or three cities in the world in which musicians with disparate heritage can convene to make music together. One is New York. One is Berlin. The third is disputed, but largely believed to be Telford. Eastern Australia-via-Indonesia trio Young Magic chose the first metropolis, relocating to a chilly Brooklyn warehouse after some extensive traveling to forge Melt; a labour of love two years in the making.
It’s a highly attractive set, constructed from smudged tones and indistinct vocals, with just enough variety and hook sensibility to hold it together. Tracks like ‘You With Air’ have been on the blog circuit for considerable time now — a riotous placeholder of thick beats, mesmeric synths and distant cries — as singer/producer Isaac Emmanuel began to sketch out the bones of the project before taking it to vocalist Melati Malay and multi-instrumentalist Michael Italia to flesh out.
Opener ‘Sparkly’ is a delight — a cyclic five bar phrase that sways and dips between sparse verses and richer choruses — while ‘Slip Time’’s detached, screaming synth riff sits above a languorously twisted production. There are inescapable Brooklyn overtones asserting themselves over ‘Yalam’’s African polyrhythms or the jangling kalimba of ‘Watch For Our Lights’, manifesting largely as caverns of reverb and art house aesthetics, but they are just another world texture in the esoteric psych-soul the band create.
‘Jam Karet’ has a post-Dilla thing going on, its fuzzed out bass and compressed beats supporting a slightly indecipherable hook that we’ve narrowed down to either “All the kids on the road never come back” or “On the keys is Nick Rhodes on a comeback”. The hooks continue to shine on ‘Sanctuary’, the track’s accusatory “even if you weren’t so high” circling another hypnotic beat, while ‘Drawing Down the Moon’s impossibly skittish rhythms jar ever so slightly — a rare experiment gone wrong.
In a recent interview with The Stool Pigeon, Italia explained “we wanted something to reflect our separate journeys over the last year… the lush moments and the darkness… the intense highs and very low lows during that time.” The band captures this best on ‘Night In The Ocean’; a languid, wistful paean to faraway beaches awash in a tide of woolly synths and yearning vocals. Serving as Melt’s next single, the track may be one of Young Magic’s more straightforward pieces, but works well as an introduction to the trio’s truly impressive repertoire — one that’s to be tested to the limit on the road over the coming months. But given this band’s track record with travel, touring will be akin to a homecoming.
Read this review in context over at THE STOOL PIGEON
February 20, 2012
Review: Randomer – ‘Scruff Box/Get Yourself Together’
Randomer – ‘Scruff Box’/'Get Yourself Together’
Hemlock Recordings
Rohan Walder has come a long way in a short space of time. His Randomer moniker has flitted, chameleon-like, between different styles, labels and remix projects, from some heavy D&B work for Hospital through to the broken beat of ‘Puzzled’ – his contribution to the fantastic Future Bass series from Soul Jazz Records.
This split single for Hemlock sees Walder continuing with his line of rough and tough house bangers last spotted on the ‘Real Talk’ single for Numbers a couple of months ago. It’s A-side, ‘Scruff Box’, is hard as hell, going straight for the jugular with blasts of distorted sawtooth bass and clinical beats. Characteristically mangled percussive breaks allow Walder to flex his skills, keeping the needles firmly in the red throughout, before the track disappears, leaving behind only a cloud of brick dust and a couple of ruined bass bins.
‘Get Yourself Together’ creeps its way in over insistent kicks and eerie tones, before unleashing a similar ferocity to that of its flipside. A whispered vocal sporadically repeats the track’s title, something that’s easier-said-than-done with the levels of insanity the bass drop brings to proceedings. It’s a menacing beast of a track, one that shows Walder’s way with both hard-hitting beats and command of mood and ambience. Combined with ‘Scruff Box’s aural assault, Hemlock are definitely on to a winner here…
Read this review in context over at HYPONIK
February 9, 2012
Review: Speech Debelle – ‘Freedom of Speech’
Speech Debelle – Freedom of Speech
Big Dada
When Corynne Elliot won the 2009 Mercury Prize with her Speech Debelle debut Speech Therapy, it sent shockwaves* (*mild interest) through the entire music industry* (*Steve Lamacq). The venerable institution had given the prize to an entry from one of its ‘token’ categories (usually hip-hop, jazz or planking), but had they actually given it to a decent record? Either way, Speech Therapy didn’t sell, and its Wayne Lotek-produced wallpaper jazz-hop beats didn’t reach anything like the amount of people her label, Big Dada, must surely have hoped. It seemed that the Mercury, reeling from accusations of being safe and boring (previous winners include Jim Reeves, Loggins and Messina, Kenny G and Elbow), had chosen the wrong record to make a statement with.
Now Elliot returns with Freedom of Speech, a follow up that abandons the introspection of its predecessor in return for a more engaging and forthright tone, yet it still fails to totally convince. The scattergun attack of ‘Studio Backpack Rap’ starts things on a fun note with a verbal tour round Elliot’s metaphorical studio set to old skool beats. Production work is largely handled by Warp artist Kwes, who strives to create a varied, largely darker musical palette for Elliot to bounce off — sometimes successfully (‘Elephant’, ‘Sun Dog’), sometimes otherwise (‘The Problem’, ‘Shawshank Redemption’). ‘Live for The Message’ is one of the album’s more rounded efforts, an interesting blend of Explosions in the Sky-type delayed guitar and uplifting horns, before ‘Blaze Up A Fire’ makes a U-turn on both message and quality, a stilted and half-arsed contribution from labelmate Roots Manuva doing nothing to rescue it.
Elliot’s main failing lies with her use of esotericism as currency, something that critics are so often sold by. A female rapper with an inspirational backstory, a semi-eclectic bunch of live hip-hop fusion beats, and a few tired platitudes about society’s ills don’t constitute good music alone (see also: Sound Of Rum). But scratch beneath all this, and there are signs of potential: the Bonobo collaboration ‘Sun Will Rise’, ‘Better Days’ from Speech Therapy, a tidy contribution to DJ Whitesmith’s ‘Missing Day’s Music’. Unfortunately, there’s little of this promise to be found on Freedom of Speech.
The devoted sentiments of ‘Shawshank Redemption’ quickly break out into a Lily Allen-grade reggae beat, and ‘The Problem’s wailing guitars and syncopated, cluttered production tests patience. ‘Collapse’ (inspired by the film of the same name) deals with the future of man by way of some of the album’s most wince-inducing lines (“imagine if there was no more oil and I don’t mean olive / I mean the type of oil where BP spill is”).
New single ‘I’m With It’ is a puzzler: with all the gold still left in the mines of music’s past, why channel the DFS advert grooves of Hot Chocolate, complete with a piano-and-disco-strings hook that takes aim straight at the playlists of local FM drive time stations? A number of remixes on the single further hint at potential in Elliot’s sound — a particularly impressive refit from Lapalux being a prime example — but their inclusion here only adds to the frustrating nature of the original.
Real accomplishment appears with closing track ‘Sun Dog’, where touching production work from Kwes builds to a crescendo, elevating some of Elliot’s better couplets (“the voice on my shoulder says sleep when you’re dead / get out of bed / 2am, Mac Pro typing again / freestyling again”). Its quality is something sorely missing from the rest of Freedom Of Speech.
Read this review in context over at THE STOOL PIGEON
February 7, 2012
Review: Sigha – ‘Abstractions I – IV’
Sigha – Abstractions I – IV
Hotflush
London’s James Shaw has been peddling his minimal techno wares on Hotflush for a while now, releasing ambient cuts for the label as Sigha since 2009. It’s a logical union, one that’s given Shaw a base for his own recordings, as well as allowing him to produce some deft remix work for others (most memorably a toned down, genre-hopping reworking of Commix’s ‘Emily’s Smile’ for Metalheadz). Back together with Hotflush for the New Year however, Shaw delivers a devastating addition to his already impressive cannon.
The optimistic air of opener ‘Something in Between Us’ aside, ‘Abstractions I–IV’ is dark, brooding, occasionally menacing and always ominous, the frozen lake cover art as applicable as Shaw’s chosen stage name. This is minimal taken to its extremes.
‘Where I Come To Forget’ builds in imperceptible measures; its peaks disorientating like the first few seconds of consciousness, its quieter moments full of bubbling kicks and echoing blips. It’s no surprise this cut made it onto Berghain regular Scuba’s edition of the DJ-Kicks compilation series. ‘How To Disappear’ nods in the direction of Berlin minimal, its mechanical loops inching the listener closer and closer to hypnosis as they develop. Claps and breaths reverberate through imperious warehouses, as the heavy focus on rhythm over melody begins to mutate into the catchiest of hooks itself.
Closer ‘Drown’ is the darkest moment of a dark collection; its huge caverns of sound acting as a bed for rattling percussion and sonar-like beeps as the musical onomatopoeia of its oppressive title plays out over its seven minutes. As the track drifts out, it’s a good few moments before reality sets back in; an untouched cup of tea illuminated in the cold glare of the computer screen and an unsettling feeling of uncertainty as to what happened in the previous half hour…
With the ever-rising bar of quality in electronica today, producers must be constantly on their game to keep up. This comes more naturally to some than others – Shaw firmly asserting himself in the former camp with Abstractions I – IV.
Read this review in context over at HYPONIK
January 31, 2012
Review: Schoolboy Q – ‘Habits & Contradictions’
Hip-hop seems to be going through a purple patch right now; on an upsurge of its perennial seesaw of quality spearheaded by the freshness of its new generation — the syrupy flows of A$AP Rocky and crew; the ‘trap beats’ of his regular collaborator Clams Casino; the golden era boom-bap chef rap of Action Bronson; Das Racist’s knowing tongue-in-cheek satire; the controversy-craving, subversive ways of Odd Future and Lil B.
Throwing his hat into this ring is sometime-Black Hippy associate Schoolboy Q, whose latest effort has as much of a claim to be part of the current rap fabric as LiveLoveA$AP or Drake’s Take Care at the other end of the scale.
‘Sacrilegious’ is a brave opener, its insistent kick drum thud never threatening to derail the track’s skulking disposition, with Q’s unperturbed flow picking up where previous album Setbacks left off.
With a west coast sound far removed from the G-Funk or backpacker styles of the past, Habits & Contradictions has a moody, menacing feel more associated with the New York aesthetic — more smoked-out than gutter rap. ‘Oxy Music’ is snail-paced and ominous, a scratchy drum loop and spare keys line playing host to some demented couplets (“blood on the wall, death in the air / birds on the ground, pistols everywhere”), while the A$AP Rocky collaboration ‘Hands On The Wheel’ is another demonstration of the freewheeling Web 2.0 sampling culture that is now prevalent in contemporary rap — the track contains elements of a YouTube rip of Lissie covering Kid Cudi’s ‘Pursuit of Happiness’.
The collaborations here are carefully selected from a pool of up-and-comers and contemporaries, never treading on Q’s toes while simultaneously augmenting tracks like ‘2 Raw’ (Jay Rock), the brilliant ‘Blessed’ (Kendrick Lemar) and ‘Sex Drive’ (a sassy turn from singer Jhené Aiko).
‘Raymond 1969’ takes us back to the 36 chambers with some gritty drums and a grimey Hell on Earth-era Mobb Deep mood, while the Genesis-sampling ‘Gangsta In Designer (No Concept)’ sees Q riding military-style beats with some of the album’s tighter flows.
That’s not to say Habits & Contradictions doesn’t have its faults, however. ‘Sexting’ is a throwaway slice of uninspired misogyny, while ‘Nightmare On Figg St.’’s ‘homage’ to Jay-Z and Kanye West’s ‘Niggas In Paris’ falls just short of insultingly plagiaristic. ‘Druggys Wit Hoes Again (feat. Ab Soul)’ is irritating, and even a late-night beat from Alchemist can’t save ‘My Homie’’s half-hearted reminiscences.
On the whole, Schoolboy Q has delivered a strong — if sporadic — set, one that doesn’t hold together brilliantly as an album, but whose better tacks certainly benefit from the advantages of the playlist age.
Read this review in context over at THE STOOL PIGEON
January 27, 2012
Review: Pulled Apart By Horses – ‘Tough Love’
Pulled Apart By Horses – Tough Love
Transgressive
“When I was young I was a dick. Nothing changes!” cries Tom Hudson on ‘Wolf Hand’, perhaps a bit of a harsh self-critique from the Pulled Apart By Horses singer, but with that kind of conviction, who are we to argue?
The Leeds noiseniks have returned from their extensive travels to grace fans with another album of rambunctious post-hardcore. And this time, they’ve only gone and done the requisite follow-up-self-made-debut-with-proper-studio-album-produced-by-someone-who’s-worked-with-the-Pixies-and-Foo-Fighters type affair. Not that producer Gil Norton has taken over here — the tracks remain short and sweet, in a hit-it-and-quit-it style that gets its point across before vanishing in a puff of dry ice.
Lead single ‘V.E.N.O.M’ is quality stuff, complete with eyes-down, heads-nodding riffs and a memorable-if-incoherent hook. Shades of the recently reformed At the Drive In permeate Tough Love, and none more so than on its fiery opener.
Throughout, Hudson’s vocals jump from the screams of D.C. hardcore to straining Cobain-isms (‘Give Me a Reason’ certainly has a Bleach-era Nirvana something about it), adding yet more dynamism to already sparky tracks. Bass player Rob Lee (not the former Charlton and Newcastle midfield general) and lead guitarist James Brown (not the late Godfather of Soul… we think) play off each other with a precision surely built from time on the road, and it’s their interplay that informs many of Tough Love’s better moments.
For a band known for their explosively volatile live shows, Pulled Apart by Horses do a reasonably decent job of transferring that energy to tape. ‘Bromance Ain’t Dead’ invokes The MC5 at their riotous best, while ‘Night Of The Living (I’m Scared Of People)’’s syncopated chorus throws some disco rhythms into the mix, before breaking down into an unnerving section of creeping tom rolls and single note guitar wails, crashing back into the hook before Vincent Price’s imminent monologue can get a foot in the creaking door.
A cogent 33 minutes of no-filler riffs and closely structured arrangements, Tough Love is progressive but never prog; certainly more coherent than the band’s previous effort. The humorous and bizarre track names may have disappeared (there’s no ‘I Punched A Lion In The Throat’ or ‘E=MC Hammer’ equivalents here), but there are still enough of the playful elements that endeared fans to that debut to keep them on board. It may be the album to make PABH admirers out of those not already on the bus, but its tighter productionand playing will irk the ‘purists’ who will forever claim the rougher edges of the band’s debut to be their pinnacle. But fuck the purists.
Read this review in context over at THE STOOL PIGEON
