Pink Floyd - A Momentary Lapse of Reason

I like Pink Floyd, infact I consider them the best band to have ever walked the earth. They've written more than a few album that could be considered all time greats. One problem I do have with Pink Floyd is their output after 1985, after Roger Waters left. Why? The song writing went way down hill and they became your run of the mill rock and roller's who brought nothing new to the table.

The album starts off decent enough, I can't really knock Signs of Life apart from the fact it's a bit of a waste of a track. The sound of water slowly lapping against the side of a boat with the hum of a synth over the top doesn't really constitute a song but i'll let it slide, after all this is David Gilmour and he knows what he's doing. Next up is Learning to Fly, your first introduction to the new, radio friendly Pink Floyd. I can't really knock this either fortunately; for a Prog Rock band Pink Floyd have done a very good job at creating an actual single. Things suddenly take a turn for the worse.

The Dogs of War kick starts this album on a sharp decline. David Gilmour suddenly decides he's Roger Waters and over some pretty suspect saxaphone playing goes on a rant about something or other. One Slip is an average, plodding, stadium rock tune which was helpfully contributed by Phil Manzanera of Roxy Musix fame. Things pick up slightly with On The Turning Away, the stand out track. Yes, this is the Pink Floyd we used to know, a touching acoustic ditty with coherent lyrics. By the end of this song you're willing to give them the benefit of the doubt, okay there were a few suspect tunes but maybe things will get better from here on in.

I'm going to spoil it for you and just say no, no they don't. Yet Another Movie/Round and Around are fucking woeful. There is no other term for it. Surely it can't get any worse. Oh it can, A New Machine is split into two parts, bookending the equally dire Terminal Frost and is just David Gilmour talking into a voice box. It is quite simply a waste of recording time and money and should leave anyone who bought this record feeling short change. The formentioned Terminal Frost is an instrumental in which more saxaphone is shoved down our throats while being broken up by some fairly choppy fret wanking from Mr. Gilmour.

Sorrow, the very last song starts off with a distorted guitar solo from Gilmour, getting your hopes in the process and then develops into another plodding attempt at a stadium anthem. Even Dave seems to be getting tired by this point and his droning vocals just don't capture the imagination one bit.

Is this a genuinely bad album or is it just a massive dissapointment? Well, i've thought long and hard about it and it has got to be the former. This isn't Pink Floyd we're listening to, it's a tribute act. They've got the cover art, they've got the album name and they even show glimpses of being the real deal but they haven't got what they most needed, Roger Waters. A Momentary Lapse of Reason? More like a momentary lapse of talent.

Arcade Fire - Funeral

Arcade Fire seemed to come along without much fanfare. They released their debut album, Funeral, in the Feburary of 2005 and even though it was critically acclaimed by critics it only managed to get to 33 in the UK album charts. Even so, the album continued to sell steadily and the lush, creeping soundscapes and haunting vocals that litter the album made their way into more and more peoples homes and hearts.

The album kicks off with Tunnels, which builds to a crescendo as layers of instruments are added on top of the ever rising, yet slightly cracking voice of Win Butler. Power Out was the fantastic lead single from the album. Much heavier than anything else on the album it lies somewhere between the frantic and the downbeat. Managing to pack just enough punch to keep the ever skeptic Arcade Fire virgin listening but containing the right amount of the weird, wonderful and spooky to not make it seem out of place on the record itself.

Crown of Love is Arcade Fire's attempt at a love song and not suprisingly, they manage to pull it off perfectly. The song slowly plods along with Win Butler delivering the lyrics in his own inimitable way before launching short but sweet Violin solo. This is then followed by Wake Up, the closest thing Arcade Fire will ever produce to a stadium rock anthem, which contains one of my favourite ever lines - "We're just a million little Gods causing rainstorms / turning every good thing to rust".

Every track is a stand out but Rebellion (Lies) is a quirky song that on the surface, urges the kids to stick two fingers up to the system and give up sleep. If you claw underneath you'll see it's very much about being told what's good for you rather than being allowed to learn yourself. Obviously tongue firmly in cheek, the video shows the band leading children away like some troop of rock n' roll Pied Pipers.

Even though there is an underlying pang of sadness through out, this album isn't just for the weepy and angst ridden among us. It's for those who appreciate great rock music. It pains me to use the term 'Indie' when talking about Arcade Fire because quite frankly they shit all over anything Johnny Borrell and his Popworld mates could put together, but Funeral is the best Indie album i've ever heard and one of the best albums full stop. From the faint electronic whining of the very first song to the fading plucking of the last, this album is an utter joy to listen to.

Pink Floyd - Animals

Lets set the scene: it's 1977, Pink Floyd are one of the biggest bands in the world after releasing two of arguably the best albums ever recorded back to back but the Prog Rock bubble is about to be popped by kids in denim with mohawks. Yes, Punk was on the horizon and if it wasn't laced safety pins it simply wasn't cool. If Pink Floyd were going to stop themselves being consigned to the 'Old Fart' section at the back of the record shop then they were going to have to pull something mammoth out of the bag. They did just that and Animals is the result.

Not very suprisingly, it's a concept album based around George Orwell's book Animal Farm. There are three animals, the Dogs who represent the megalomanical members of society, from the police to rich businessmen. The Pigs represent the people who are actually in control like politicians and moral crusaders, such as the referenced Mary Whitehouse and finally the Sheep represent the general public, who will follow the other two blindly whatever the circumstances.

The album is bookend by two short acoustic love songs, Pigs on the Wing. These hopeful odes to companionship contrast with the three middle songs which are all much more rough and ready. Dogs is first up with both Waters and Gilmour sharing vocal duties on what seems to be a stark warning to the potentially power hungry middle classes. At nearly 20 minutes long it never seems to get tiresome and has you on edge until the final few lines bring it crashing to a close. No time to gain your composure before Pigs (Three Different Ones) kicks in, the title is an obvious reference to the three different types of Pigs mentioned in the song. Vocal duties fall solely here to Roger Waters who nasally delivers the lyrics over a sparse musical landscape of synthesizers, drums and a bit of guitar.

Pink Floyd save the best until last with the intense Sheep. A pounding anthem that while urging the masses to rise up and fight the powers that be, builds and builds until David Gilmour's outstanding guitar solo coaxes even the most suicidal listener down from their window ledge.

Like it or not, Punk and Pink Floyd were fighting the same battle. Roger Waters stripped away all the leather, hair, denim, safety pins and bad attitudes of Punk and used the values left to write Animals but just in a slightly more acceptable, English way. Some of the lyrics on the album are about as subtle as a kick in the crotch ("Bus stop rat bag, ha ha charade you are/You fucked up old hag, ha ha charade you are") but never the less it remains one of the most smart, scathing attacks on the then growing capitalist ideology of the 70's. It's an exciting, adreniline filled voyage into the mind of an increasingly alienated Roger Waters and contains more venom than Never Mind the Bollocks and Give 'Em Enough Rope put together.

Bloc Party - A Weekend in the City

When you listen to the opening minute of the first track Song For Clay (Disappear Here) you could be forgiven for thinking that Bloc Party have completely lost it. No catchy guitar riffs, just Kele Okereke trying hit high notes that Mariah Carey would have trouble reaching. Unfortunately, when you've got to the end of the album you'll probably feel exactly the same way. Bloc Party were one of the few bright lights of the Indie scene and rather than move forward and develop they seem to have stood still.

Bloc Party have never been known for their profound, witty lyrics but on A Weekend in the City they seem to have based all their songs around pissy poems written in the back of a sixth form students text book. Uniform, the bands anthem against all that is wrong with the identikit youth of today contains some cringeworthy, cliche ridden lines and ideas that have already been used by bands probably half as good as Bloc Party. The last thing we want is them to go down the "You laugh at me because i'm different, I mock you because you're all the same" road.

Saying that, this isn't a complete dud of an album. Tracks such as the first two singles, The Prayer and I Still Remember can't fail to have you swaying to the beat and cracking a wry smile at the mention of teacher training days. Other tracks like Sunday and Hunting For Witches thankfully stray from the swelling 'light start-heavy finish' layout that nearly every song on this album is lumbered with.

Bloc Party have fell foul of difficult second album syndrome. The weight of expectation was on their shoulders and they seem to have fluffed it. The most annoying thing of all is that there is the bare bones of a good album here but they just seem to have got complacent, stuck to the same song structure and used some poor lyrics. It also doesn't help that they've been going about shooting their mouths off about every band under the sun. Lets just keep our fingers crossed that get their heads down and can pull something out the bag when they get to that not-so-hard third release.

Queens of the Stone Age - Rated R

It was inevitable that Queens of the Stone Age were going to be one of my first reviews since i'm on a bit of a binge at the moment. There's something about the ever changing line up of repetitive robot rockers that appeals to me. Maybe it's the fact rock music nowadays has lost its bollocks and QOTSA seem one of the few bands that you can rely on to go out, write some brilliant songs and start a ruckus at the same time. They embody the spirit of all the best rockers from the 70's and splice it with a hefty amount of 21st century realism.

Rated R was Queens of the Stone Age's sophomore effort and after their brilliant self titled debut which seemingly passed the record buying public buy you'd have expect them to try something different but no, they stuck to their guns and aren't we glad they did! Rated R starts off with a song dedicated to a decidedly dodgy subject; Feel Good Hit of the Summer apparently lists all the drugs consumed by Josh Homme during his three day Millenium bash. The songs pumping bass line makes it instantly recognisable and instantly catchy and would have even the most staunch anti-drugs protester singing along to the jittery chorus of "C-c-c-c-cocaine".

Monsters in the Parasol is a journey into the weird and the wonderful mind of lead songwriter and the solitary permanent member of the band, Josh Homme who bemoans seeing things he wishes he hadn't with an unhealthy amount of hair while on LSD. Lyrically, the song manages to tread the line between stupidity and genius at the same time and when you think about the subject matter and the calmness of how the vocals are delivered it can't help but make you smile. It's a fun song, by a fun band but with just enough edge on it to ward of the more mainstream of music fans.

The real stand out song on the album is ex-Screaming Trees frontman Mark Lanegan's debut as member of QOTSA. In The Fade is a brilliant mix of sadness and ambivalence that makes you want to shed a tear in a quiet corner and stand up and howl along to the lyrics at the top of your voice at the same time. Confusing? Yes. Brilliant, vintage Queens of the Stone Age? Most definitely. Nothing on the album can top Lanegan's bluesy voice painfully delivering the chorus.

As we now know, fame and fortune beckoned for the Queens and they went on to release some anthemic hits that captured the imagination of every rock music fan, young and old. This is where it started though and this is where every curious fan should start their collection. Yes, it's fine to dive head first into No One Knows and Go With the Flow but if you want to see how this band progressed and how scandalous it was that they could churn out belters that went over the head of the majority of the public, then buy this.

Justice - †

Confession time - I've never really been a fan of dance music. Repetitive, thumping bass line followed by a peroxide blonde whore delivering nonsensical lyrics in a voice that only her Mother could tolerate. Quite frankly, I was blinded by the mainstream; the stuff 13 year olds spend their pocket money on buying and in turn, push up the charts. Now however, i've discovered a new genre of music. This new genre is also called dance however this time it's actually good.

This is where Justice and their confusingly titled debut, † comes in. I'm usually highly skeptical when it comes to listening to a band i've never heard of before, after all if they're so good how come they haven't had a spell in my CD player? Fortunately, my skepticism doesn't stop my from eating humble pie and admitting when i've completely missed a gem of a band. It also doesn't stop me from admitting that i'm a complete tit when said band did a tune that i've sung along to when pissed as a fart so here it goes - i'm a complete tit. Yes, the song We Are Your Friends, one of the stalwarts of my Saturday night sessions, was a collaboration of sorts between Simian and Justice. And I call myself a music fan.

The album itself is littered with religious iconography. The title, the album cover and the song names are unashamedly holy although I think it's fairly safe to assume Justice are about as Catholic as Rage Against the Machine are capitalist. However risque all this may be, it's the music is what makes this release stand out. It keeps the repetitive thumping baseline that I bemoaned right at the very start of this review but it doesn't rely on it. There's enough going on in and around the music for them to dip in and out, to change the rhythm and the tempo.

There's more than a few stand out tracks on the album but head and shoulders above the rest is D.A.N.C.E. Justice's apparent homage to Michael Jackson and a blatant attempt at trying to fit as many lyrical references into the song about the bloke as possible. Even so, this song may well puncture the mainstream and may well get Justice more than a few fans in the single buying teenage bracket.

I can't recommend this album highly enough. I decided to give it a listen on the fact that the album covers anti-religion look interested me and now quite ironically, i'm sitting here converted. Ladies and Gents, put away your skinny jeans and stop wearing your scarves indoors, Indie is dead and Justice killed it.

Calvin Harris - I Created Disco

So, my first review and i'm going to commit a cardinal sin of a reviewing and give my opinion of it in the very first line - it's okay. It would be really easy for me to do an album that I really like and I could wax lyrical about for hours and hours on end but no, I fancied challenging myself.

I first heard Calvin Harris months before anyone else seemed to and chatted shite about him to the point where people must've thought we were involved in some sort of gay relationship. Was it the fact his music was catchy? Was it the fact that me, Mr. Can't Dance Wont Dance, wanted to get up and start throwing some shapes when his songs came on? Or was it the fact he wanted to give me a cuddled for being born at the arse end of 1987? Well, it was all of the above if i'm completely honest. Acceptable In The 80's is a brilliant dance track when you're on a night out and lose your inhibitions. It's a simple beat mixed with frankly cack lyrics that just makes you want to get up and dance. The same goes for his second single, The Girls, in which he talks about all the different types of girls and how they apparently fall at his feet (Okay then, Calvin). Although he can make nice dittys to dance to, lyrically he isn't the next John Lennon.

Now, with all that in mind imagine my excitement when I managed to get my hands on a copy of his album, I Created Disco. I was hoping for more nuggets of gold along the lines of Acceptable In The 80's and I did get them, just in smaller quantities than I would've liked. The album starts of really well with two or three very good tunes that will have your feet tapping. Merrymaking at My Place is a great album opener and really gets you in the happy, carefree mood that it should. That is soon followed by the two 'big guns', The Girls and Acceptable.... Unfortunately, after this the album starts to slowly descend into mediocrity. First of all, it's clear to see that that Calvin Harris was beginning to run out of ideas. For example, Vegas sounds just Acceptable In The 80's played through a Stylophone very poorly. All the effort Calvin's Australian cousin Rolf put into marketing this piece of kit as a legitimate musical instrument is undone in one fell swoop. Cheers, Calvin.

If you're going to put 14 songs on an album you need fourteen ideas, it's obvious he only had around 10. The track Love Souvenir leads me to believe that Calvin had been watching far too much Shaft prior to making this record and fancied doing his own Blaxploitation movie theme. That's then followed by the last track, Electro Man in which you hear what sounds like a very poor David Bowie impersonator crooning away. It's a shame because if Calvin Harris had cut the album down by about four or five songs and then spent another few weeks writing he may have pulled something amazing out of the hat. Instead we're left with an album that will have your head nodding with the beat in some parts and your head shaking in disbelief at others.

There's no doubt Mr. Harris divides opinion. Unashamedly pop, his songs carry just enough electronic wurring to attract Dance music fans but are layered with guitar in the vain hope of getting the 'Indie' (Urgh, I hate using that word) kids on board too. Has his plan worked? Yes and, well...no. If you're in a club and one of his songs come on don't expect to see lads in tracksuit bottoms mixing with girls in skinny jeans in some sort of utopian rave, you're more likely to see half of the crowd dancing away like their lives depended on it and the other half hastily making their way to the bar. Calvin Harris is good at what he does, the problem is he's not the best.

Hello and Sorry...

I apologise for the shite banner - it will change in time (Time being when I learn how to knock up something passable in Photoshop).

Anyway, this is my blog where I plan to write reviews for music, hence the cack title. There may not be some up for a few days but being a student I have fucking loads of free time so expect it to be rammed with poorly written articles in a week or two.