Album Review: The Suburbs - Arcade Fire

 *****
Three albums into their career and Arcade Fire seem more untouchable than ever. Indeed, on hearing the first note of 'The Surburbs', you instantly realise you're listening to something very special.

There's an effortless majesty here which spills forth across the 16 songs, all worthy contributions to the album, and which veer from the Abba influenced glam stomp of Sprawl II (Mountains Beyond Mountains) to the new wave guitar growl of Month of May.

Whereas previous album 'Neon Bible' has been criticised, somewhat retrospectively it must be said, for its overblown sound, here there is a delicacy of touch comparable with that of a fine watchmaker.

Sprawl 1 (Flatlands) is an understated masterpiece of youthful alienation. "The cops shine their lights/On the reflectors of our bikes" as the children of American surburbia lose themselves in the cultural wastelands, defining Arcade Fire's newfound ease of transition from sub-genre to sub-genre and thematically demonstrating the wonderful melancholy of growing up in 80's surburban towns with their nameless, faceless lack of identity.

Unfathomable boredom pervades the album, from the "great big words" the kids use but don't understand, through to the resultant tribal divisions of 'Surburban War' and the endless ennui of 'Wasted Hours'.

There's also anger at the business men who, "...drink my blood/Like the kids in art school said they would" and the apathy of youth, "But how you gonna lift it with your arms folded tight?"

Special mention must be reserved, however, for 'We Used To Wait', an authoritative statement on the intangible transience of modern life. "I used to write letters/I used to sign my name" Win Butler declares, the song culminating in the snarled, "We used to wait for it/Now we're screaming sing the chorus again".

The Suburubs is undoubtedly a masterpiece of the modern man.

Album Review: Total Life Forever - Foals

**
Total Life Forever. It's a title that somewhat epitomises the problem with this second Foals album - It appears weighty and portentous but on closer inspection simply doesn't furnish you with any worthwhile meaning at all.

Having embroidered their own unique style of 'math rock' on debut Antidotes, the Oxford quintet merely appear to have stripped away most of the delightfully playful yet urgent guitar mechanics that raised them above the parapet of obscurity, leaving nothing but a sonic waste ground of pretentious etherea.

It's hard not to compare Foals unfavourably with The Horrors, who although also expanding their musical palette on last year's Primary Colours, managed to do so whilst finding their own distinctive voice.

Alas, too much of Total Life Forever feels bereft of any discernible intent. Lead track 'Spanish Sahara' is a good case in point. Over 6 minutes in length and sporting the teeth grinding imagery of lyric, "Now I see you lying there/Like a lilo losing air", you can't escape the feeling that, when push comes to shove, Foals simply don't have the substance to fulfil their musical ambition.

There are moments when their potential exposes itself fleetingly such as on 'Miami' and 'This Orient' but ultimately it feels like Foals have deliberately lent towards the more MOR music listener, a move which their Mercury Prize nomination will no doubt only serve to justify.

Unfortunately for me, it feels like a band with considerable potential are rapidly losing their impetuous.

Onward, until victory

I've already tweeted the link to this video twice (three times through the twitter feed from this blog) but it's undoubtedly worthy of more attention. Partly because it follows on nicely from my last blog but also because it just feels so timely in general.

As the TUC contemplates organised strikes, the Tory's, day-by-day, reveal more of their true nature to the world and the electorate reels from the long shadow of Cleggmania, this short interview with Labour MP Tony Benn feels inspirational.

Having watched it in full yesterday evening before going to bed, I found I couldn't sleep, couldn't rest at the thought of democracy being undermined by the desperate clambering of individuals for power.

I wanted to march in defence of what I believed. I wanted to start a band again. I wanted to write lyrics, I wished that I could play the guitar properly. I felt more and more guilty about living in my increasingly comfortable middle class malaise. I knew I was merely protecting the status quo.

That there's a new Manics record out next week is no coincidence of course. They always remind me of the true potential of great art to change the world for the better. I wouldn't substitute my life for anyone's but in many ways I know that's a problem in itself. I know I've got too much to lose.

I envy those who I imagine are young, without responsibility, find themselves in life's gutter and who have no other option than to cherish creativity whilst kicking out at the world. If the world kicks back a lot fucking harder then so what? At least they tried, goddamit, at least they did that.

Strike to the heart

I get frustrated with the perennial reaction to strikes. This week the tube network in London was all but completely shut down for 24hrs as RMT and TSSA Union members fought back over the decision by London Underground to cut 800 jobs across the network.

The media's perceived reaction? - "Misery" and "Travel Chaos". Worse than that, the strike is "Damaging to our Economy". 'Misery' and 'travel chaos'? Those signifiers don't fit with the scenes of calm stoicism I experienced on my morning commute. A 6 day long Chinese traffic jam - now that's what I call 'travel chaos'.

How ironic too that the striking tube worker receives an ounce of blame for damaging the economy when the generally received wisdom is that the rich 'City Banker' type caused this recession in the first place. The result, of course, this government's perceived necessity for cuts which has had its effect on both public and private sectors.

Yet what chars my heart more than this even, is the utter selfishness of some of the general public's rhetoric. Of course the strike is an unwanted inconvenience but, for the majority, it is merely that - an inconvenience. Surely we can suffer one day of inconvenience for the sake of those who are trying to protect their livelihoods?

Those who, through their presence in maintaining the London Underground network, allow us to reach the office from our suburban havens in the first place. Reading headlines such as "Londoners defy Tube strike" is incredibly depressing. We shouldn't be defying the strike but supporting it! If not as an act of selflessness then in order to ensure we receive a better service as commuters for the foreseeable future. It's not in our interest that 800 jobs are cut, let alone London Underground employees! 

Family Fortune

Two remarkable landmarks in my family life will have been reached this summer. Firstly, the 5th anniversary of mine and Laura's wedding day back in July, and this Monday on the 13th September, the 1st anniversary of our boy George's birth!

I haven't harked on about either of them too much on this blog. Mainly because nobody wants to hear about these things and also because, well, affection is for us to show each other not the world at large.

However, I am going to indulge myself a little right now. I am eternally, overwhelmingly and stupendously grateful for them both.

Laura is the one person who keeps me from tipping over the edge. Her innocence, wisdom, morality and endearing silliness are all so cherished. Without her I don't think I'd be capable of the responsibility of fatherhood, most probably I wouldn't be capable of coherent speech so far off the rails would I find myself.

George too, of course, is my little diamond! His smile, sense of humour, sense of fun and inqusitive little nature have all been a joy to behold and a privilege to help foster as he grows. I am a very fortunate young man.

Album Review: Butterfly House - The Coral

****
In thrall to the 60's beat generation of pop musicians since the scallywag bag of bones that was their debut, The Coral have stuck steadfastly to a tried and tested formula which has, on occasion, left them sounding jaded.

Never more so than on 2005's 'The Invisible Invasion', the Scousers 4th album in just 3 years, and on which their odyssey to recapture the spirit of their swinging sixties forefathers ran desperately aground.

Since giving themselves some breathing space however, they've returned with the admirable 'Roots & Echoes' and now, three years on, 'Butterfly House' sees them at something approaching their barnstorming best.

The influence of producer John Leckie is clear - the man responsible for the much adored Stone Roses debut album - and, although it isn't fit to wash the feet of that masterpiece, there is an air of majesty to the pop hooks here that may similarly echo through the ages.

Both album opener 'More Than A Lover' and the succeeding 'Roving Jewel' sparkle with a renewed sense of purpose and lead single 'A Thousand Years' is instantaneously memorable for its brazen pop sensibilities.

Perhaps surprising, considering the departure of guitarist Bill Ryder-Jones, is the continual existence of those jangly guitar lines synonomous with the verve and infectious cascade of past glories.

'Butterfly House' is the best example with its rolicking coda of electric sqeals and riffing mastery, it's clear The Coral haven't lost any of the creative edge that so often blights those who lose a founder member.

James Skelly's lyrics, although rarely substantive, manage to capture an ethereal charm, turning "scarlet curtains hanging in the window" into a portent symbol of melancholy and the flickering lamp from behind a blind into a Dickensian suggestion of wistful existence.

The only disappointment then is that, with The Coral maturing into indie-pop stalwarts, the surrealism initially displayed on their much acclaimed debut has now all but vanished. There's not a single trace of those shambling sea shanties come 2010 and I, for one, miss them just a little bit.