Album Review: Them Crooked Vultures

Made up of arguably the three of the best musicians in the last 40 years, Them Crooked Vultures consists of Led Zeppelin’s John Paul-Jones, Queens of the Stone Age’s Josh Homme and and all round behemoth of rock Dave Grohl. The project was completed earlier this year amidst sworn secrecy, and the band recently leaked their debut album online, days before its official release.

As expected with members such as these the result is intensely musical, throbbing with dark complexities and heavy grooves. Grohl’s furiously energetic drumming is on display throughout, though some of his previous power seems to have been lost in recording. Meanwhile Homme has developed from unwilling frontman into a versatile singer, from soft falsettos to a lip curling, lower register drawl. Paul-Jones does what he does best, laying down solid bass foundations, occasionally getting weird on organs and keytars.

The sheer amount of things going on makes each track full of surprises, from the monstrous riff in Nobody Loves Me & Neither Do I, to the honky tonk bass Scumbag Blues. If there is an exception to this rule it comes in Bandoliers, where the laid back, almost latin, vibe creates a bit of a lull.To pick favourites from a record as intricate and enjoyable as this is near impossible. The aforementioned Nobody Loves Me.. oozes with playful sexuality with lyrics like ‘If sex is a weapon then smash, boom, pow, how you like me know?’, whilst Elephants is reminiscent of Zeppelin’s Immigrant Song, only if the vikings described in that were on acid at the best party Valhalla could throw. Reptiles is laced with frenetic energy, lurching forward under Homme’s crooning and guitar screams. Penultimate track Gunman is a slab of psychobilin laced disco, daring you to get up and groove along with it.

Thankfully this album lives up the hype surrounding it, a breathtakingly original piece of songwriting, fuelled by the trios creativity. Sludge with swagger, the overall feeling is that you’ve just listened to the best jam session in history. Even if you hate everything about it, this is unarguably one of the best written records in recent memory. Lap it up.

Album Review: White Denim – Fits

I honestly can’t think of a more appropriate name for this Texan power trio’s third album. Opener ‘Radio Milk How Can You Stand It’ starts of as if they were The Zutons on acid, before changing direction completely, whilst ‘Say What You Want’ is Led Zep influenced, lo-fi blues rock, complete with a sitar like solo. Clearly drawing from a massive range of influences, the album switches between the The Mars Volta, Latino punk (featured on ‘El Hard Attack Dcwyw’), as well as dub, country and psychedelica. The sheer diversity present here shouldn’t really work as an album though somehow they manage to blend all the elements perfectly. A great demonstration of skill and writing,  ‘Fits’ is an exciting cacophony of noise from start to finish.

Album Review: Spinnerette – Spinnerette

Following the dissolution of The Distillers, Brody Dalle is back to show an endless procession of Hayley Williams wannabes at alternative club nights how being a rock chick is really done. From the cover of Spinnerette’s self titled debut (reminiscent of the first release from Queens of the Stone Age whose curator, Josh Homme, is Dalle’s husband), it is clear this is going to be an album with a one-track mind. Taking as much influence from grunge and garage rock as it does punk, the album is essentially a fuzzy ode to getting it on. Sex Bomb calls on Homme to ‘Be my daddy’, whilst Geeking talks of ‘going down on each other deliriously’.  Whilst at times descending into awkward smut, (‘automatic sex machine, rabid dogs get high on meat’) the album works best in the less sexually aware songs.  These include the fast paced Baptized by Fire, reminiscent of Flux by Bloc Party and Impaler, a track that wouldn’t be amiss on one of Homme’s Desert Sessions. Overall, Spinnerette is a gritty, late night, trashy, pop record, an evil twin of Blondie and Pink.

Film Review: Doghouse

Doghouse follows the story of a group of young men who go on a weekend away in the country in order to help one of their number, Vince (Stephen Graham), get over his impending divorce and find their ‘inner bloke’. However when they arrive in Moodley they find the all the women have turned into ‘pissed-off man-hating feminist cannibals’. The result is a cross between Shaun of the Dead and an issue of Nuts, complete with some of the lads having to pretend to be women in order to avoid attack, and chesty ladies.

To begin with the film seemed promising, referencing the godfather of horror comedies, The Evil Dead, several times. From their things quickly go downhill, as director Steve Jake West’s brand of ‘splatstick’ fails to impress.  Doghouse was neither paticulary gory, due to overly dark and gloomy look of the film, or indeed funny. I think I only laughed twice, at the obligatory ‘bird flu’ gag and in the banter directed at a surving soldier.

Although  clearly intended to send up male attitudes and fears about women, the film only just stays on the right side of sexism. It falls to the only gay in the village, Graham (Emil Marwa), to call for the group to ‘stop all this male posturing’.  Highlights come when Kidulthood’s Noel Clarke shanks one of the cannibitches with a sword (though without shouting ‘You dizzy blood?!’ unfortunately), and the man that looks like Bryan Ferry from those injury claim adverts getting his head split open.

And of course there’s the ever watchable Danny Fackin’ Dyer, a man who doesn’t seem to care about typecasting in the slightest.  He even manages some real acting in this, blubbing his eyes out in a torture scene akin to Misery. You’re still better off watching Dyer’s other foray into the genre, Severance, which has better gags, gore and guns.

Film Review: The Curious Case of Benjamin Button

Based on a short story by F.Scott Fitzgerald, Benjamin Button is the tale of a man who is born old and grows young. Scripted by Forest Gump writer Eric Roth, this is almost a companion piece to it, both in theme and narrative. They are the stories of a life less ordinary, with callipers, childhood romance, befriending a Captain and a long period aboard a boat being  just some of the similarities between the two.

Unfortunately Brad Pitt’s Benjamin is nowhere near as endearing as the loveable fool of Gump. Despite the viewer being present his whole life, the character undergoes minmal development, and tends to be frustratingly passive throughout. Indeed, the only time we see any real break from this is his sexual awakening in a brothel. The result is a film which lags and feels overly long, running at just under three hours. I could really have done without the  period in which he conducts an affair with Tilda Swinton in a Russian hotel, which seems completely superfluous to the plot.

Admittedly the idea of a man growing younger rather than ageing does through up some interesting narrative oppurtunities, such as a child with dementia, which do help to engage with the audience. Where the film shines however is in its cinematography, rightly deserving its Oscars for Art Direction, Visual Effects and Makeup.

Ultimately Benjamin Button, is style over substance. Its sole purpose seems to be for the scenes in which Benjamin and Daisy’s (played by Cate Blanchett) ages cross,  when the two are at the height of their romance,  looking like they have been specifically shot for the trailer.

Film Review: Slumdog Millionaire

After the hype surrounding this film and its ensuing Oscar success I was slightly apprenhensive about seeing it, as I wasnt sure whether it could live up to expectations. Fortunately I was proved wrong.

Danny Boyle has painted a rich tapestry of Indian life, and his portrayal of the ‘slumdogs’ in Mumbai makes a colourful and refreshing change to the grim images we will likely see in the upcoming Comic Relief.  It’s not that poverty is ignored here, just presented in a more uplifting way. The characters and story force our compassion, and we are not shell shocked into guilt. The vibrancy of life in the slums reminded me of Rio’s favelas in City of God, as the young protaganists go about making a fast buck.

Special mention must go to the youngest of the child actors, whose appearances really shone out against an already great cast. Hopefully they will go on to have successful careers either in Bollywood or elsewhere in film.

Slumdog deserves all the acclaim and rewards it receives, and is an endearing, heartwarming film. This should serve as proof to studios about the sucess that small independent films can have, and a flagship for the possibilities of international film making.

Album Review: Chris Cornell – Carry On

This review first appeared on SYWPZine back in 2007. Unfortunately the webzine is no longer running but check out http://www.sywprecords.com instead.

Chris Cornell seems to be following a pattern with his musical career. Armed with some of the best sets of pipes in the industry, he was the frontman of critically and commercially successful Seattle grunge band Soundgarden. However when they split he wanted to showcase his song writing abilities, and released mediocre solo album Euphoria Morning . He then joins Audioslave, who again rock out very hard. Now they’ve split its time for another solo album, Carry On , and unfortunately it follows in the same vein as its predecessor.

Its not that he can’t sing anymore, its just that his voice is a lot better suited, and sounds best, when with a heavier band. Admittedly the first track on the album, and current single, No Such Thing is fairly good, but is let down by its weak verses. Still the strongest track on the album though, as it descends into a pit of repetitive power ballads. For me the only other worthwhile track is You Know My Name , the theme song from the most recent Bond film, Casino Royale, although it’s a bit desperate putting on song on from a film that was released over six months ago.

One track I really can’t get my head round is his cover of MJ’s Billie Jean. I don’t know why he thought one of the best pop songs ever written would ever work as a slow acoustic rock ballad. It doesn’t.

The other songs aren’t bad, they’re just incredibly boring, and your finger keeps wanting to reach for the skip button, as the endless stream of crooning seems to carry on. And on. And on.

Your dad, however will probably love this album, as will people who enjoy (shudder) Bryan Adams. Good news is though, if he follows his current trend, Cornell should have gotten this stuff out of his system pretty soon and be fronting another great band.

Album Review: Queens Of The Stone Age – Era Vulgaris

This review first appeared on SYWPZine back in 2007. Unfortunately the webzine is no longer running but check out  http://www.sywprecords.com instead.

Josh Homme is without a doubt a master song writer, smearing his lyrics over one another, burying them in indecipherable crooning and barricading them with gigantic guitars. QOTSA albums are huge sonic puzzles, unleashing aural carnage in their wake.

Previous album Lullabies to Paralyze was a dirty, evil rock recorded cleverly disguised by slick and glossy production work. Their new album however takes shiny glam cock-rock and coats it in studio dirt, with smudged guitars and broken drums.

From the albums title (Common Era in Latin) its apparent that Homme is making a statement. Era Vulgaris is a violent caricature of consumer society, and all the heiresses, scenesters and wannabes who contribute to it. First single “Sick, Sick, Sick” is about pervy men getting kicks over kinky girls, whilst the next track “I’m Designer” sarcastically proclaims, “My generation’s for sale / Beats a steady job”.

The albums latter half has a harsher sound, though ‘Make It Wit Chu’ disrupts its noxious flow. Whilst it is commendable that Homme turns his back on the norm, both musically and in his feelings, but still produce a successful album, his preoccupations and themes here are so obvious they are less interesting than say the subtleties on Lullabies .

Era Vulgaris is definitely a grower, taking time to sink in. For me the standout track has to be ‘Misfit Love’, a hip shaking testament to the new direction the band has taken. When Homme’s refrain of ‘Im so goddam slick baby, its a sin’ kicks in, it’s hard to not to agree.