Five new bands for the weekend

The weekend has arrived once again, which means it's time for my (irregular) feature, five new bands for the weekend. Hey ho, let's go...

1) The Ropes Sultry boy-girl duo from New York. More of a fashion statement than a band, but I think I quite like them.

2) DD/MM/YYYY (pictured) Jumpy Canadian math rockers. Like Foals without the haircuts. It's pronounced 'Day Month Year'. Just so you know.

3) Mirrors Brightonian trio of indie boys with synths and a well-thumbed copy of Simon Reynolds' Rip It Up and Start Again. Like Depeche Mode on a downer.

4) Crystal Antlers Rather wonderful, yelping Californians. I'd say they're a little bit psychedelic, but that could just be because they feature what sounds like a Hammond organ. And we all know that Hammond organs are the official sound of psychedelic rock.

5) Juan Maclean He's the next LCD Soundsystem. You know, if you haven't really listened to LCD Soundsystem. Or Daft Punk. Or the Human League. Or anything released by DFA Records. Or funky house. Despite this, I still very much enjoyed his album, The Future Will Come.

The biggest midget in the game

My goodness. Mel C's had a big of a change of image recently:
Not really. You know that's Lady Sovereign, and so do I. She's back with her big comeback (well, medium-sized comeback) single, So Human. It's based around the choicest cuts from Close To Me by The Cure. You might have missed her 2006 debut album (Public Warning) and that Ordinary Boys track she mumbled all over, but let me assure that Lady Sovereign is a big star. The video is proof.

See? She goes to red carpet events where people interview her. On camera. And men in grubby Parkas take photos of her. In the screengrab above Lady Sov is about to cause several thousand pounds worth of damage to the paparazzo's camera, but that's ok. She's a rebel.

And people put her on the cover of cool style magazines. Doesn't she look super super? Also, Anyother Magazine. It's like Another Magazine. Do you get it? (LOL!!)

Crazed magazine. Could that be like Dazed and Confused? (Double LOL!!)

Blah blah, Vague magazine...

The video ends with a big party at an art gallery. It was full of boring, pretentious people wearing suits, but Lady Sov snuck her friends past the velvet rope. They're all such fun that they don't dance, they jump. And they probably wear the plastic toys that come with Happy Meals as jewellery.
What have we learned?
1) Lady Sovereign is famous. And you like famous people, right? Especially the ones who are a bit mouthy and kick photographers. You know, like Lily Allen. Therefore, you will like Lady Sovereign.
2) Lady Sovereign is popular and she likes parties. But not VIP ones. If you bumped into her in Earls Court, she'd probably take you to a cool party in a warehouse. There'll be glow sticks. In a variety of colours. And then you'll be popular too, because you're in there with Lady Sovereign.
3) Did I mention that Lady Sovereign is already famous? Perez Hilton likes her. And if you don't like her, you're just not keeping up.
So far, so pop music video trope. My problem is that So Human is that it's weak. So weak that it might collapse in a strong breeze. It's a feeble ghost of The Cure's Close To Me. Not even Lady Sovereign looks convinced. There's a young chap called Thomas Jules who recently released a similar track, called Get Close To Me. Who thought of it first? I know not. The only winner here is Robert Smith.
In other news, I was ill last week with that winter vomiting virus you've heard everyone talking about. I highly recommend you avoid catching it. Even if you have to cut off close contact with all other human beings, you'll thank me. However, I did manage to watch Animal Collective playing at Liverpool O2 Academy. It used to be a Carling Academy, and to emphasise the difference the bar is now stocked entirely with Carlsberg. The venue still has the atmosphere of a large garage decorated with chewing gum. It was surprisingly full, considering that Liverpool is the city of the Beatles and Animal Collective's music doesn't reach out to give you a big hug. "They're quite good," a boy in a beanie hat said to me at the bar. "But it's not as good as Jim Morrison or Joe Strummer."

Guess who's back

Take It To The Chorus has been on sabbatical from blogging for a while, as I was in the land of no internet. But now I'm back. Here are some pictures to astound and enchant you:

Service update

Hello! I am working in the West Midlands for a few weeks. Unfortunately there's a lot of tasty gigs I'll be missing in Liverpool/Manchester, but that's just how it goes. I don't know if I'll have much chance to Take It To The Chorus, but I'm sure you'll cope.
On Friday night, I went to see Passion Pit, Hockey and Bear Hands at the Brudenell in Leeds. Sadly I missed Bear Hands, but Hockey and Passion Pit were brilliant. I cursed myself when I realised my camera was at home, but snapped this two pictures on my dear friend Fran's camera. One over-enthuasistic, amateur Mick Rock in a plaid shirt was snapping so fervently and obtrusively - at one point using a mobile phone in each hand - that the singer of Passion Pit (Michael Angelakos?) grabbed the phone off him. Overall, it was a very blog buzz kind of gig.

Five new bands for the weekend

1) Marina and the Diamonds One of the most promising post-Regina Spektor singer-songwriters out there. And when I say Regina Spektor, I mean Soviet Kitsch era, not Begin To Hope era. I only listened to that one once. It made me feel a bit sad inside. Marina is what you hoped Florence and the Machine would sound like.

2) Bear Hands Very, very cool band from Brooklyn. Of course they're cool: they're from Brooklyn. Williamsburg, probably. Are you only allowed to live in Brooklyn if you're a musician or artist (preferably both)? I will be seeing them live tonight, supporting Passion Pit at the Brudenell in Leeds.

3) School of Seven Bells Another band from Brooklyn, but this time a Secret Machines offshoot making swirly dreamscapes. Pitchfork like them. I don't like them because of this, but the recommendation doesn't hurt.

4) Polly Scattergood She's an alumni of the Brit School (please see: Leona Lewis, Katie Melua, Amy Winehouse...) and posts MySpace bulletins all the time to let everyone know she's got a new blog up. This annoys me. However, I forgave her a little bit when I listened to Other Too Endless. It's beautiful in an otherworldly way.

5) Boy Crisis Impossibly hip, gender confused and recently signed Brooklynites. I imagine they sleep all day and go to warehouse parties all night. Inbetween, they somehow find time to write some tasty punk-funk, hipster hop tunes. From their MySpace: 'They are well-liked in the blogosphere. They are hip and marketable to several youthy demographics. They have "crossover appeal." They have an "ethnic band member."' See? They've got a sense of humour too.

Get your leather on

The new Yeah Yeah Yeahs single (Zero) is rather wonderful, don't you think? Startling, yet wonderful. It's a swaggering song full of bold synths and Karen O's sneers. The guitar doesn't even kick in during the first minute.
Show Your Bones was a solid second album, but not all that brilliant. Hopefully, the YYY's third offering (It's Blitz!) will officially be a stonker. Zero has some of the angsty energy that got the band through Fever To Tell in 2003, but it's more mature, more considered. I take this to be a good omen. The garage rock rawness of Fever To Tell was exciting, but you can't maintain that. I guess you could keep pretending, but wouldn't that turn you into Iggy Pop?
One more thing. Below is precocious novelist and Brooklynite, Jonathan Safran Foer.


Please compare him with the YYY's drummer Brian Chase - also a Brooklyn resident - at left below.

The only possible explanation is that THEY ARE THE SAME MAN.

RIP nu rave

Remember the days when every gig/club you went to was full of people decked out in Day Glo leg warmers, UV face paint and glowsticks? And if the night was above average, people would be shouting 'oh my god, this is just like a rave!'? Well, yes, just "like" a rave in controlled surroundings. Just like a rave without the three hour drive around the Peak District looking for the right field, following the directions given in a vague text message. And without the gurning, middle-aged pillheads, mangy dogs on bits of string and people shitting in a ditch.
Anyway. I'd almost forgotten about nu rave (or is that new rave?). That Klaxons album was so long ago. And all those other nu rave bands, like... Shitdisco... and... New Young Pony Club. When the trend officially began to decline I do not know, but if you take a look at the pictured shop window, I'm sure you'll agree that nu rave is definitely dead. I took the photo earlier today through the window of a shop called Price Mark. It's a bit like Primark, but further down the discount clothing hierarchy. A bit like nu rave has filtered down the pop culture hierarchy from a cool, alternative 'youth movement' to an excuse to hawk neon polyester tat.

Pop star dreams

I had a dream last night that MTV offered Lisa Scott-Lee a new reality TV series, in which they followed her as she prepared to take an IQ test. If she failed to get into Mensa, she would have to give up thinking. Luckily for Lisa, she came out with an IQ of 153. That's when I realised it was a dream.
Below is a photo of a wheatpaste I saw in Liverpool. It's got nothing to do with Lisa Scott-Lee or intelligence testing. I just thought it looked nice.

Florence and the Machine pie charted

Florence and the Machine. Some people adore her, some people do not. The Critics do, as she picked up the Critics' Choice Award at the Brits. I'm a bit hazy about what this award is exactly, and the placing of the apostrophe completely changes it. And what if they are not music critics, but actually a consortium of food critics, wine critics or theatre critics?
Personally, I don't particularly like Florence and the Music. Her warbling is just not for me. I have created a pie chart to help you understand why I have reached this decision. It's all in pastel colours to ease you towards the weekend.

PS I hope it's big enough. Blogger manages my content very well, but it's not good at image hosting. When Blogger and I first got together it was so exciting, but over time I fear we've grown apart. At the moment we get along ok. We have our ups and downs. But I fear that one day I might lose my temper and run away to Wordpress.

I want my MP3

Sarah got on the email. She asked me kindly if I would stream an MP3 of Andi's Good Morning Sun, which I promptly forgot about. My bad.
This got me thinking about whether Take It To The Chorus should dabble in MP3 posts. People like MP3 blogs. And record companies like them because they create a buzz (translation: they provide free PR and marketing). But I decided no, Take It To The Chorus is more of a personal scrapbook than a depository for MP3 streaming. If you want an MP3 blog, poke around the Hype Machine. They aggregate seemingly millions of blogs streaming every remix you could desire. (The buzz is really just an illusion, because the same MP3s get emailed around at the same time.) And you know you should support the artists and buy the music, don't you?
Anyway. Back to Andi. She is Canadian, and I already like her more than Avril Lavigne. Here is the video for Good Morning Sun, in glorious technicolour. You can even download it for free over here.

It's rather jolly, no?

The Lady GaGa noise

Just what is that Lady GaGa noise? You know the one I mean. Halfway between a gasp of excitement and a bird squawking. Whatever it is, I like it.

The Fame is a very enjoyable album. I don't like all of it, but Poker Face is clearly a wondrous pop song. The Lady GaGa squawk (let's just call it a squawk for argument's sake) punctuates the album. I like that. It's a sort of stamp of GaGa authenticity.

Unfortunately, Lady GaGa herself is already starting to grate on my nerves. Congratulations on her to escaping the Lower East Side party scene, unlike Santogold (or is that Santigold?). But girl needs to put some more clothes on. Especially as she inspires The Sun to write breathless, mastubatory pieces with headlines like 'GAGA-ING FOR IT'. Ew. She looks like a creature that never sweats, gets cakey make-up or grows unwanted body hair. This could make me feel slightly inadequate. However, I'm convinced that Lady GaGa was constructed in a laboratory. She doesn't walk anywhere. She strides.

10 songs that make me leave the room

After I mentioned Theory of a Deadman the other day (shudder), I started pondering what songs really offend me. Some songs routinely come out on top (or should that be bottom?) in worst song polls, like We Built This City or My Heart Will Go On. I can get through songs like that. Not comfortably, but I can clench.
I choked down the bile, and compiled 10 songs that I loathe. This isn't a top 10 of horrible-ness, because the amount they make me vomit in my own mouth is equal.

My Humps by the Black Eyed Peas
You know what I'm going to say. It's a juvenile playground chant that reduces women to 'lovely lady lumps'. Just in case you didn't get the hint that sex is a transaction (e.g women give men sex, in turn men give women designer handbags), Fergie reels off luxury brand names ('Dolce & Gabbana, Fendi and then Donna'). In the video, she drapes herself over Louis Vuitton products and big shiny cars.
Buttock-clenching moment...
will.i.am's threat to 'mix my milk with your Coco Puffs'.

Do Ya Think I'm Sexy? by Rod Stewart
I can't bring myself to listen to this one. It's so embarrassing. Also, it keeps getting re-released, remixed and covered. Just go away, please.
Buttock-clenching moment...
The thought of Hot Rod gurning away in skin-tight leopard print trousers.

Come On Eileen by Dexys Midnight Runners
This is a school disco staple. I despise everything about it, from the fiddle intro to 'my thoughts I confess verge on dirty'.
Buttock-clenching moment...
Walking past an Eighties-themed bar and hearing someone belting this out on karaoke.

Ebony and Ivory by Paul McCartney and Stevie Wonder
Building racial harmony and integration through song. What a nice idea. But this is saccharine, laboured and hideous. The intentions are so anguished that it falls flat onto its face. I blame Paul. Stevie's just getting through it.
Buttock-clenching moment...
The harmonised 'side by side on my piano keyboard / Oh, Lord, why don’t we?'

The Girl Is Mine by Michael Jackson featuring Paul McCartney
Schmaltzy duet in which Macca and Jacka contest their ownership of a submissive slave-woman. Thriller is supposedly one of the greatest albums of all time, but only if you ignore this track. Apparently, there's a will.i.am remix. I haven't listened to it.
Buttock-clenching moment...
The hideously contrived spoken word ending.
Paul: 'Michael, we're not going to fight about this, ok?'
Michael: (Chortling) 'Paul, I think I told ya. I'm a lover, not a fighter.'
Paul: 'I've heard it all before Michael. She told me that I'm her forever lover, don't you remember?'
Michael: 'Well, after loving me she said she couldn't love another.'

Achy Breaky Heart by Billy Ray Cyrus
The song that spawned a million line-dances. It is tedious, trite country music by numbers.
Buttock-clenching moment...
The thought that we could have left this song in the past, but then Miley Cyrus popped up and reminded us all of its existence.

2 Become 1 by the Spice Girls
This is supposedly a sweet, romantic song that people probably chose as their first dance at weddings. This baffles me as the central image is so starkly sexual that it makes me blush. It's so... penetrative.
Buttock-clenching moment...
The cooing 'wanna make love to ya, baby'. And Geri's clown make-up in the video.

Sledgehammer by Peter Gabriel
Sorry, Peter Gabriel. You really haven't done anything to offend me, but I can't stand Sledgehammer. The stop-motion video is amazing, but the song goes straight through me. Is it the slap bass, the aggressive brass hits or the evangelical 'show for me'? I'm not sure. I just know that if I was trapped in a confined space, this is the song I would start hallucinating. Until I went mad.
Buttock-clenching moment...
The panpipe whirl that punctuates the song.

Rollin' (Air Raid Vehicle) by Limp Bizkit
Embarrassing and meaningless, this was a number one single for three weeks in October 2000. It was also the moment that nu-metal died.
Buttock-clenching moment...
Fred Durst.

Don't Let Me Be The Last To Know by Britney Spears
The fourth and final single from Oops!... I Did It Again, this song didn't make it on to Britney's greatest hits. Because it is truly terrible. Shania Twain is partly responsible for this dreary ballad in which Britney pleads a sexy man chunk to fall in love with her.
Buttock-clenching moment...
The intro sound of an unidentified (synth) instrument. It's presumably meant to sound sexy, but reminds me of a damp sweat patch on a faux leather sofa. The 'shoo-be-doo' backing vocals. The climactic key shift. The video in which Britney - wearing a white bikini - cavorts in the surf with a spunk. Everything, basically.

The Killers identity crisis

Is it just me, or are the Killers starting to look like they want to be in different bands?
From left to right, we have Mark 'Pouting Synthpop' Stoermer, Ronnie 'Open Mic Folk Night' Vannucci Jr, Dave 'Hair Metal' Keuning and Brandon 'Flamboyant Morrissey' Flowers.
It's a shame that Day & Age is a bit disappointing. Human grew on me, but the rest of the album is a bit of a snooze.

Worst song EVER

There's a lot of bad songs out there. Thanks to 4Music, today I think I've heard the worst song ever (while waiting for the kettle to boil). It's a song that makes Ebony and Ivory bearable. It's a song that makes Nickelback sound half decent.
The aural abomination of which I write is Hate My Life by Theory of a Deadman. Like Nickelback, the band are Canadians and on the same label as their post-grunge chums. 'Post-grunge' - a musical "genre" that's given up on life. Just as this song has given up on life. It truly is crap.
The video is below. Don't try and tell me you can get through it without feeling dead inside. I won't believe you.

In happier news, I've had a spring makeover of Take It To The Chorus as I wanted to keep this place looking nice. You can also comment on posts, if you wish. Don't be shy. We're all friends round here.

Bon week-end (with new bands)

Weekend, weekend, weekend! New bands, new bands, new bands! That chant needs some work. But you get the idea.

1) Titus Andronicus Fact: the gloriously gruesome revenge tragedy Titus Andronicus is my favourite Shakespeare play. Therefore, I'd probably have a soft spot for these New Jersey chaps (pictured ^^) whatever music they were making. Luckily, the music is rather good yarn-spinning, American white collar indie rock.

2) Blk Jks Like a South African TV On The Radio, minus vowels. (It's pronounced 'Black Jacks'. Or at least that's what I heard Zane Lowe say.) They mix up fuzzed-up art rock guitars, highlife and afrobeats. Exciting stuff.

3) The Pains of Being Pure At Heart Wan New Yorkers who would easily fit onto a C86 compilation. Teetering on the edge of twee.

4) James Yuill One young man mixing laptop electronica and acoustic tunes. That makes him sound like an open mic experimenter getting it wrong, but he's getting it right. He's also done some very good remixes.

5) Swanton Bombs Two floppy-fringed indie kids from London. They might grow out of their skinny jeans one day, but until then they're making melancholic yet angry songs with guitar, piano and lots of words.