Oh what’s that, THE ENTIRETY OF TRUE NORTH ON YOUTUBE, YOU SAY?
I love Bad Religion so much. And it’s a bloody amazing album. Treat your ears.
Oh what’s that, THE ENTIRETY OF TRUE NORTH ON YOUTUBE, YOU SAY?
I love Bad Religion so much. And it’s a bloody amazing album. Treat your ears.
When neon-coated electro-hunks My Passion called it a day after seven glorious years, my synthy little heart was well and truly broken. I, like many others, had taken My Passion to heart and spent most of my disposable income shadowing them around the country from show to shining show. So, when the inevitable ‘we’ve moved onto pastures new’ statement surfaced, I was left with two blisteringly good albums, a stack of promo CDs, good memories and a huge, swirling, lyric tattoo. When My Passion were good, they were phenomenal; their throbbing synths and roaring choruses could make the dead dance. After a Kerrang! cover, some lucrative support slots and a delightfully homoerotic ‘golden tour’ (shirtless guys and gold body paint; you had to be there), it seemed that My Passion’s upward trajectory was to continue indefinitely. But then came the silence, the departure of long-standing guitarist John Be (and subsequent employment of Andé D’Mello) and two small festival sets. Kerrang! soon moved on like the fickle mistress it is; shifting its focus towards other visual-centric bands such as Yashin and Fearless Vampire Killers. My Passion ended their reign, not with a bang or a whimper, but with a death rattle. A disappointing performance at Hitchin’s Rhythms of the World festival (where the sound quality could be replicated by placing a bucket on your head and throwing yourself down an elevator shaft) was followed by a prolonged period of silence and then the inevitable; official split via social media. A statement of clichés, followed by a slew of sad emoticons; this wasn’t the crazy hammer-to-the-heart group I fell in love with.
But then came the cryptic tweets; January 13th was a big day. I, like many others, held my breath and hoped for something other than the announcement of yet another small clothing line. Thankfully, the ‘big reveal’ was Fort Hope; a new, far more radio-friendly project from four previous My Passion members. Essentially, everyone except former lead vocalist Laurence Rene. Rene’s absence in Fort Hope is very much the elephant in the room, and I hate to be the arsehole to point it out, but here we are. Was Laurence ostracised, or was his DJing his true passion? (pardon the pun). Was this the reason for My Passion’s demise? The internet is alive with presumptions and conjecture, all of which is hard to ignore. Before one even clicks on Fort Hope’s ‘play’ button, it’d be easy to presume that this would be My Passion 2.0. Same synths, different day. Five seconds in and your preconceptions are not only shattered, but thrown into a blender and strapped to a passing horse. Fort Hope are, in the nicest way, the antithesis of all that My Passion was. Gone are the incomprehensibly bizarre lyrics, gone is the heavy electro influence and gone is the relentless, upbeat dance element. The keyboards have been packed away with all previous pomp and ceremony. Everything has been stripped back to pure, raw musicianship; this isn’t so much as a rebirth as an entirely different beast.
‘Control’ is the only track widely available online, and although it can’t speak for the rest of their music, it certainly acts as a showcase of all Fort Hope’s individual talents and the burgeoning potential of them as a collective. Featuring previous My Passion members in their usual positions (Andé D’Mello – Guitar, Jamie Nicholls – Drums, Simon Rowlands – Bass), the most noticeable difference is with Jon Gaskin. In My Passion over the years, he set his hand to drums, guitar, keyboards/synths and finally, singing. Gaskin is a veritable polymath in the music world. He can turn his hand to seemingly any instrument with impressive results, yet his true talent was made all the more evident in My Passion’s final album ‘Inside this Machine’. Gaskin’s added vocals lifted the entire album. His enviable natural tone and control was made to shine, not to play second fiddle to another vocalist.
In Fort Hope, or more directly, in ‘Control’, his voice is presented raw and naked and is, surprise surprise, bloody fantastic. ‘Control’ begins with exposed vocals, but soon weaves itself an iron web; beautiful and delicate, but strong and well crafted. The track retains its Gentle and tentative sense, but begins to command attention with each bar and phrase. As the song progresses into a thundering chorus, parallels can be soon drawn with the stylings of Young Guns and Mallory Knox. While they all possess a similar sound, ‘Control’ bears a sense of maturity and sincerity that’s hard to replicate. The melody is catchy as hell, the lyrics are well considered and the simple guitar line couldn’t be sweeter if it was remade at Cadbury’s. Finally, and refreshingly, the bass and drums are used as perfect devices to fatten up growing verses and rousing choruses. The falling harmonies in the vocal line ‘out of control’ are so powerful, but so perfectly measured, that any band caught listening would soon find themselves with an attack of the green-eyed monster. Instrumentally, everything is equal; there are no indulgent trills, fills or solos. There really is no fat to trim.
If there ever was a perfect way to rise from the ashes, then Fort Hope not only achieved it, but tore it up, made sweet, sweet love to it and put it on a plinth. If ‘Control’ is the shape of things to come, then I think we might just see the creation of the world’s new favourite band.
Post-punk is a genre that has been mined extensively in the past decade with countless bands from Editors to Interpol putting on their best Ian Curtis impressions and heading straight for the great pit of stagnation. South Carolina’s Parlour Tricks are here to give the genre a big kick up the arse with an urgent, propulsive and importantly- dancey self titled debut album. Despite playing a genre of music almost always associated with depressives and all-round gloom, the album places the power of the hook in high esteem, leading to some unashamedly big choruses loaded with well dressed dynamics and an all round sense of cautious optimism.
The albums opens with rumbling percussion before each instrument is added to the furore in quick succession, the guitar playing a painfully simple four chord staccato riff whilst vocalist Eric Greenwood initially opts for the traditional post-punk baritone warble before he thankfully allows his voice to open up a little for the chorus. Piano arpeggios swirl elegantly as the song reaches an understated chorus, completing a musical venture that strangely sounds a little like The Gaslight Anthem if they were from Macclesfield. ‘Radio Out’ begins with sparse guitar staccato’s before things get things get dancey and a distinct whiff of Mission of Burma seeps into the song whilst the vocals emit a similar nasal twang as Placebo’s Brian Molko. The clean, syncopated guitar chords of the verse even eschew little hints of ska in a recurring flirtation with upbeat motifs.
Everything about third track ‘Cathedral’ seems wonderfully off-kilter; drums can’t decide whether to visit the indie-disco or opt for some rock histrionics whilst a booty-shakin bass churns out some dirty basslines as nimble guitars dance across the mix. ‘Bronze Cast’ sees the band lose any inhibitions they might have about a fully ‘pop chorus’ but thankfully their Mission Of Burma influences shine through enough to keep the track from going too glossy. The tempo is upped slightly for ‘Red’. Propelled by a driving bassline the song possesses a distinct sense of urgency with vocalist Eric’s voice breaking into screams of “I feel so strange!” for the thrilling crescendo.
The intro to ‘Eleven’ starts out like some abstract electronic piece as xylophone hits twist around electronic chirps and beeps before the song begins in earnest with straight forward drums and guitars that appear more focused on creating ambience as the piano takes central role for the chorus.
‘Entropy’ and ‘White Lies’ move along nicely with the latter song featuring some particularly nifty and impressive nuances on the drum kit thanks to sticksman Logan Goldstein. The central riff of ‘White Lies’ has Fugazi written all over it but the chorus is a bouncing two-chord alt-rock stomper. Closer ‘Down In The Minefield Of A Memory’ starts off with a Peter Hook-inspired bassline that maintains is simplicity throughout the four minute track. The track never lets up its steady, driving momentum whilst utilizing simplicity and restrain from all instruments as the very ‘New Wave’ vocal melody of the chorus masquerades as a slice of traditional post-punk gloominess.
An album that is post-punk in name, but not necessarily in nature- Parlour Tricks is a much needed update that breathes life into the genres fondness for sounding as cold and dead as possible. The guitar riffs are hummable and the vocal melodies, although not initially overtly ‘poppy’, will sneak their way into your psyche. All in all, a brilliant effort, a record that is instantly accessible, bringing together a myriad of post-punk influences into one well honed and danceable melting pot.
Four out of five high fives!
Shamefully, me and my comrade in arms showed up late to the Chronographs launch show. So we missed first act Akheron and will therefore posit that they were brilliant and everyone should listen to them. Luckily, that was all we skipped on, and Lichfield based Avantine (3/5) presented a solid set. Technically able and playing some massive tunes, they were a joy to listen to, but need to work on their stage presence a bit. Vocalist Leigh Moylan had tons of energy but everything else seemed a bit static.
This wasn’t the case for Hull technical hardcore monsters The Colour Line (4/5). To say that they dominated the dancefloor would be a bit of an understatement – they virtually smashed it to pieces with one of the most enigmatic perfomances I’ve seen in ages. Equal parts terrifying and enthralling, their dirgey hardcore brought Worcester to its knees, predominately in the moshpit as they got taken out by a guitar head.
Aurora (3.5/5) suffered from a few technical issues; an inability to get the levels right on Jessica Calvesbert’s vocals distracted from what was otherwise a great set. Taking cues from both pop-punk and metalcore, they’ve crafted an intriguing and unsettling sound, and smashed a wary audience’s expectations in the teeth. Aurora are definitely one to watch.
Finally, Chronographs (4.5/5) took to the stage and delivered. Suited and booted, classic microphone in tow, they filled the room with a sonic explosion of incredible technical skill and proved that they can outclass virtually any band at their level in the UK right now. And that was even missing guitarist Jack Pope. Picking and choosing from their small but impressive back catalogue, they treated fans to firm favourites and new ventures, and it was wonderful to see just how much they’ve evolved over the past two years. With mosh heavy breakdowns, melody driven riffs, classical and electronic influence, Chronographs are often polarising but not at this launch – a full house screamed their hearts out to a band worthy of all the hype.
Maycomb, a four-piece pop-punk outfit from Wolves, try to make waves with what is surprisingly only their debut album: ‘I Opened My Heart to Caustic Things’. Rather than 2012 spelling the end of the world, it has produced a stepping stone for these boys, seeing them open tours for the likes of The Wonder Years and Man Overboard; ending on a high note with this release.
The first two tracks ‘New Storms’ and ‘Old Gold’ show how Maycomb have done a lot of growing up since their 2010 EP. As ‘New Storms’ opens the album, there’s a sign of real promise which is held consistently throughout the whole album, even though the holding of a consistent sound throughout the whole album is perhaps more of a hindrance than a help. The majority of the lyrics portray a loathsome picture of the band’s hometown, or concentrate on their desire to take Maycomb from strength to strength; tried and tested pop punk staples. I think it’s fair to say that there isn’t a bad song on this album, but everything blends together too much. The short ‘Out of Darkness Cometh Light’, which is barely over a minute long, does show a softer and more delicate side to the band. However, this minute of acoustic guitar and soft vocals doesn’t do enough to dispel the feeling of sameness running through the album.
Most of the songs consist of pop-punk melodies with some catchy hooks dispersed throughout. There’s a few of the song-making riffs that usually come with a lot of this genre, but the consistent cheery guitars do enough to entice listeners, getting feet tapping and heads nodding. There is some display of vocal range, but for the large part they are quite high register. Not of the A Skylit Drive ilk, but don’t tune in expecting anything gruff.
A highlight of the album is the closing track: ‘Whatever Happens, Happens’. As well as featuring the by now expected upbeat guitars and lively chorus, the track is a throwback to one of their earlier songs, ‘Whatever Happened, Happened’. This finishes off the album on a bright note, with a nice transition of tempo midway through and a deceptive fade out before kicking back to life right at the end.
‘I Opened My Heart to Caustic Things’ is well finished but it isn’t the most complex record and not unlike most of what is already floating around in the pop-punk genre. Maycomb are an example of a band who found a winning formula to song writing that works for them and stuck with it. The lively beat, guitars and energy show that this isn’t necessarily a bad thing and it may produce some good, even potentially radio friendly singles.
3 out of 5 high fives!