Friday 30 September 2011

Power Pop for Nuns: Hazey Janes


Writing about the Hazey Janes should be simple. They're a Scottish band with faux American accents. Their music is unassuming power pop; between the jangly guitars you can hear echos of nifty West coast three part harmonies. There's a spot of self-effacing Bon Jovi fandom in there too - though they just about get away with it. The songs are catchy enough to raise a smile and enjoyable enough to warrant more than one listen. The Hazey Janes seem to have mastered the art of being uncomplicated without being dull.
Oh boy, is that ever damning with faint praise; it's also pretty unfair as I've willingly given the upcoming album 'The Winter That Was' a few repeat hearings.
Carmelite is one of the more boisterous offerings. If I liked it less I'd call it a skillful package of cliches; driven, sweet sounding and not a little soft-rock. They're a little like the post Holy Bible Manic Street Preachers, without the 6th form poetry.
The ingenuous truth is that although the Hazey Janes fall into the (somewhat long-winded) category of dime-a-dozen bands "capable of putting out a decent tune without signifying anything", actually that's okay in this case. They're solid, not boring. Perhaps it's indicative of my current tendency to overdose on lots of angsty, hand-wringing indie and a bit too much electro, but these guys feel like a gust of fresh air; there's unabashed jubilation to be found in their gusto too. They're not so mild that they're inoffensive, but for a simple band they've been a pain in the backside to analyse.

St Vincent - I'm flicking through a thesaurus for superlatives as I type

I'm trying to find a prosy way to start talking about St Vincent. Maybe a comparison with other bands that use St as a honorific, maybe some sort of poor ramble about the singer-songwriter's beatification after leaving the smiley happy, cult-like Polyphonic Spree...
No. Sod it.
St Vincent, aka Ann Erin Clark is bloody good. Her first album 'Marry Me' was bloody good, 'Actor' more of the same, and not only does 'Strange Mercy' fail disappoint in any way whatsoever, it keeps on improving with every listen. 'Cheerleader', taken from the newly released third album proved to be my personal highlight of last night's Music Geek Monthly meeting; even though I completely misheard the chorus and thought she was singing about not wanting to be a "chimney". Totally understandable; chimney isn't exactly the sort of career for a young, talented woman.
Generally Miss Clark gadds about as an alternative darling; popping up here and there in elite touring bands, or as an opening act to indie groups with serious chops - Arcade Fire, Grizzly Bear etc, etc. Usually garnering plenty of critical acclaim and Kate Bush comparisons. Did I mention she's bloody good? She plays a dirty bass, she sings - she probably doesn't want to be a chimney (her lyrics tend to be a bit cleverer than that) and if that's not enough she plays a slew of other instruments too. Flute, organ and piano aren't enough for her or her heavily layered arrangements.
Strange Mercy is a curious beast. The album sounds raddled; a travel-soiled girl weary under florescent bus station lights, hands clenched into fists, palms marked by half moons. It spins from from fragility to aggression; catchy riffs subvert the dark, challenging and frank tone as the music ripples with raw emotion, painful stories and originality.
Second track 'Cruel'is a perfect example of the music's schizophrenic nature; bright, breezy start with a luscious stroke of 'Spanish Eyes'-like balladry, counterpointed by a chirpy electro beat that bob-bob-bobs along until... until... Until there's a crescendo and you're not quite in Kansas anymore. Yet as suddenly as it changes it reverts to being a blowsy singalong once more, albeit about someone "someone waving flares in the air so they could see you".

There's not a hint of pretension, not even in tracks with titles like 'Neutered Fruit' (which include a Disney choir like warble). It's the music of someone who is clearly in love with what she does; complex, creative, crafted.... And it's bloody good.

Sunday 11 September 2011

A Weakness For Harmonies


There are plenty of slightly doleful, jean-clad, folky harmonisers lurking out in the mists. Sweet, twee and utterly vapid, yet hell-bent on clogging up one's ears with cable-knit earnestness. The demonstrable effect of which is akin to a giant smug sigh. There are few things truly as dull as when an otherwise inoffensive genre shuffles up to politely handbag the listening public, but that's what happens when folk attacks. Tea, trees and twiddly-dee songs of melancholia for everyone!

Right now contemporary folk feels almost beyond redemption. Boring music by numbers, thoroughly moribund with both a sense self-inflated authenticity and well stroked beards in dutifully curated states of distress.
Thankfully there are exceptions to this stream of tediousness...
March of Dimes are a alt-country band, rich with the sort of concinnity that acts as a lodestone for attention. After following up on a recommendation, the Leeds based group have become addictive listening.

The (now) five-piece started as a musical project of commemoration and celebration. The first album, 'All Intents And Purposes', 2008, certainly does sound personal, but there's unexpected quirks and tangents that transform the songs into something greater than audio diary entries of middle-road lyricism. It serves as a reminder that ardency isn't always a bad thing; running alongside the (rather charming) mostly sad songs is unheralded vein of flippancy and musical skill that is very definitely beguiling.
Aside from the first album there's a couple of EPs too, all under Hope House Records; the entire collection can be found for streaming here. I promise it's worth it.
The latest EP is a little richer in tone; a little more polished, but it bodes well for future releases. B-side 'The Navigation Song', is just the right side of wistfulness to make it the perfect accompaniment to fleeting scenes from train windows, or all other autumnal travel needs.
I'm a sucker for good harmonies; it's a pleasure to find a new reason to actually enjoy them.