2000s
Thomas H. Green
I didn’t want to review Shania Twain. My sense of her is of ancient mega-selling hits I can’t stand. I didn’t even go to her Sunday afternoon set at Glastonbury 2024. But it’s difficult to get most music writers to cover the biggest pop stars of our era. So here we are. And, you know what? It's a much better album than I was anticipating.I wasn’t looking forward to slating a smorgasbord of nursery rhyme, line-dance cheese. Given her remit, it felt unfair and pointless. But I’m off the hook. Even the songs that head that way, such as the breakbeat-rolling “That’s the Money”, boast acceptable Read more ...
Kieron Tyler
The title “Tone Phase 1 for 2 Guitars & 4 Oscillators” is a giveaway, clearly indicating what’s going to be heard once the LP has landed on the record player. And, indeed, the first track on the second side of Eleh’s newly reissued Floating Frequencies / Intuitive Synthesis 1 seamlessly fuses single tones generated by electric guitars and analogue oscillators. However, what’s less apparent from taking in the title is the magnetic power exerted by the track during its translucent progress over ten minutes. Hypnotic.The same applies to what follows: the also-ten-minute “Tone Phase 2 for Read more ...
Thomas H. Green
Confessions II arrives amid a welter of promotional spectacle and global corporate partnerships. At heart, though, it’s Madonna retreating from projects stuck in development hell, and working through bereavement, via the salve of making music in a low-key London situation with Stuart Price. He produced 2005’s Confessions on a Dance Floor, to which this is a sequel. The preceding singles did not bode well but Confessions II contains surprises and shows a superstar holding her own.Returning to the arena of clubland bangers, and presented as a continuous mix, it’s hampered by the fact that house Read more ...
caspar.gomez
Sweating in my lair, there’s no trip to the mecca this year. If the festival was on, I'd be there right now, but it’s a fallow year and Glastonbury Festival is keeping its head down. The Glastophilic chat rooms bubble with antsy longing. My house is prowled by ghosts of yesteryear. Finetime’s camera is dormant. The cows on the farm chew their cud in peace.Instead of taking it to the wire in the fields of dreams, scribbled later with the urgency of one possessed, sleepless and obsessed, I can only offer ruminations. Snapshots and snippets. Aided by a large box of mementos from the attic, I Read more ...
Kieron Tyler
“My Ice Queen” immediately makes its case. A mid-to-low tempo chugging rhythm underpins choppy guitar, a contemplative, distant vocal and a general air of disassociation. Brief sections of the song feature – albeit muted – guitar mangling and feedback. The lyrics tell of a “heartbreak machine, coolest girl you’ve ever seen.” Icy? Absolutely.Then take the similarly restrained “Life Goes on,” so hazy a rumination it seems to have materialised from the mists enveloping Venus.
Image
It isn’t all so crepuscular. “Song For John” – seemingly an Read more ...
Liz Thomson
Across seven decades, Alan Bennett has revealed a great deal of himself through plays and screenplays. In 1994, with the publication Writing Home, his first volume of diaries, culled from the London Review of Books column he started writing in 1983, he began revealing a good deal more. Enough Said is his fourth collection (leaving aside the 64-page House Arrest: Pandemic Diaries) and likely his final, as the title implies. It's an elegant package, the book's endpapers and tailbands matching the colours of the cushion on which he is shown reclining. Ninety-two-next month and physically frail, Read more ...
Sarah Kent
“Welcome” reads a sign hidden behind a metal screen whose spider-web of bars is designed to keep out unwelcome visitors (pictured below: Welcome: Carib, 2005). Through the grille one can see an exhibition of paintings to which, despite the apparently friendly invitation, access is emphatically denied. The Country Club is similarly protected by a high, chicken wire fence through which the tennis court and club house are tantalisingly visible (pictured below: Country Club: Chicken Wire, 2008). In these paintings, Hurvin Anderson treats both subjects with exquisite wit. The offending wire Read more ...
Jonathan Geddes
Juanita Stein had a simple request for her bandmates. “Don’t fuck this up”, she joked, before the Australian group played a song from their new album for only the second time ever. You could understand the concern, however lightly it was expressed. These are still early days in the band’s reformation, with this year’s “Strange Days” offering the first material in 11 years.Hence the trio, augmented to a foursome here, were back in what Stein called a home away from home – the cramped surroundings of King Tut’s. It is a familiar haunt for the group, while also indicative of the fact that Read more ...
Thomas H. Green
It’s disquieting, as a bloke, to hear 2000 female voices singing about the sexual frustration caused by premature ejaculation. A noisy chorale, heartfelt, behind Lily Allen’s 2009 hit “Not Fair”, cascades from two tiers of balconies. “And then you make this noise, and it's apparent it's all over.” Lily Allen isn’t even on yet. Just this celebratory femme-centric congregation around the joys of dating a one-minute man.It’s the first half of the show – and make no mistake, this is a show, touring theatres, not a gig – and it’s a simple set-up. Three female cello players, clad in black, Read more ...
Thomas H. Green
The best of Ladytron should be on everyone’s playlists. Over 27 years, the Liverpudlian synth-pop act have established themselves as a well-loved international cult act. They’re heading for (underground) heritage status, despite a quarter of the band leaving three years ago (Reuben Wu departed to focus on his successful photography career). The good news is that, on their eighth album, they’re still up for exploring new musical pastures.On Paradises, the trio revel in retro-Balearica, indie-goes-house songs redolent of Brits-on-hols-on-Doves groovin’, mostly sung by Helen Marnie and Mira Read more ...
Sarah Kent
American photographer Catherine Opie took her first self-portrait at the age of nine with a Kodak instamatic she’d been given for her birthday. There she stands in the garden, a little toughie flexing her biceps like a muscle man.And there she is again, twenty four years later. This time she presents herself as Bo (pictured below right), a persona developed among her queer friends in California. Her stance – chest square on, feet apart and thumbs in pockets – makes her look like an off-duty cop, an idea enhanced by what could be a baton dangling from her belt. She looks to camera with a Read more ...
Thomas H. Green
Things do not look promising at 8.55 PM. Half the 1500-capacity Engine Shed is curtained off. The venue is still far from full. The crowd is mostly between their 30s and their 50s, lots of couples. The lights are on. The vibe is lacklustre. Mumbled chat and pints. It’s ex-Kasabian frontman Tom Meighan’s acoustic RAW show and it doesn’t seem likely he’ll be able to turn this around. But, within ten minutes of hitting the stage, he most certainly has.Guitarist Chris Haddon, appears first, then Meighan, a wiry, bewhiskered figure in black, cropped hair, a padlock on a chunky chain around his Read more ...