missive 111
22-01-2007
In typical time honoured fashion we kick off the year with a missive that was intended for airing prior to Christmas - however flu and the fact that we managed to lose the best part of three quarters of it in a PC gremlins incident means that it appears much to our embarrassment and your - no doubt - confusion - now. Frankly there are bits that should have been edited / re-jigged but to be truthful I canna be ars‘d - so references to next year mean this year, Xmas was last Xmas not next etc…you get the general idea and sadly we know of at least one release that won’t be available now though there’s no harm in begging the band for a copy in return for a small wad of cash - see if you can spot it. And with that - onward brave souls…..


The wind howled furiously outside, the sound of the ear piercing conversational whistles collided angrily as the gusts laid torrential siege to everything in its path. With it violent flurries of ice cold snow caught up in the rampaging and disagreeable jet streams struggled to break free of their captors clutches. Once liberated the tiny flakes came to rest, in the main, upon the ground below, some took their place on trees branches, others on bushes, fences, bins, gates and window sills. The snow continued until all, as far as the eye could see, was magically lit up by a crisp pristine white blanket. Inside his room little Johnny had been awoken by the storm ensuing outside, the house had long since retired to bed, the warming embers of the great open fire that had illuminated the main living room below stairs with a radiated glow had itself since slipped into slumber. The protective warmth now replaced with a piercing chill caused little Johnny to shiver. Outside the howls clambered and scratched at little Johnny’s frosted window as though wanting to seek safe sanctuary from its own dark self. Suddenly from the shadows of beneath Johnny’s toy cupboard there came a sound. Faint at first almost inaudible. It was a clicking noise. Or was it a scratching sound. Whatever it was Johnny froze the chill as a result of witching hour drop in temperature that had caused him to wake and the ends of his toes and fingers to tingle was now replaced by a deathly cast that rooted him to the spot as though someone or something had glued his feet to where he stood. He tried to scream even call for help but no sound came, the deathly chill spread furiously through him immobilising his vital signs. The sound from the shadows beneath his toy wardrobe grew louder, as Johnny screwed his eyes to focus in the darkness he swore to himself he saw something moving. There was a pungent smell. It was an aroma that Johnny had never smelt before, not so much an aroma, but more like something that had gone off, it was so bad it took his breath away with its acidic edge bringing with it an uncontrollable tear to little Johnny’s eye. The noise grew louder. Though it had seemed like an age since he had awoke his eyes had still not adjusted to the darkness that surrounded him it was as though, no that’s impossible he thought, but it was as though the darkness was getting - well - darker. He shuddered. The curiosity got the better of him, he moved closer to the sound. The scratching - for that was the sound he heard - grew louder reverberating a sense of dread that cut through his very fibre. The smell was unbearable now making even breathing through his nose cause the back of his throat to burn in disgust and the pit of his stomach to turn in on itself. Now standing by his toy wardrobe - he took one deep breath and convinced himself everything was alright that it was just his imagination. The wind outside howled in derision almost laughing at the suggestion he thought. He crouched, lower and lower until his line of vision was level with the underside of the toy wardrobe from whence the sound and the smell. He peered hard, something moved, he gasped, there was a shifting sound - no a scuttling sound - something was moving and moving at pace towards him - just then the bedroom door swung open and in a blaze of light in stepped his Dad , with one stealth like move his bent, reached and pulled from beneath the wardrobe Johnny’s offending torment - ’so that’s where the bastard’s been hiding - I’ve been looking for this bugger for ages’ - ’what is it Dad?’ cried Johnny his hands masking his tearfully terrified face - ’why Johnny that’ll be the past its sell by date bastard bumper sized festive wing dinging singled out’…….

It’s the Festive Fall Out Bumper Sized Singled Out……woo hoo….

Singled Out
Missive 111

For Kelly and Mark.

Singled Out - discerningly detuning musical tastes.

Snot, sniffles and sneezes special……

Past season’s greetings the last Singled Out before we shuffle off into 2007

Over on the Sunday experience singled out shed record player -

Jello Biafra ‘In the grip of official treason’ (Alternative Tentacles) - do you think he votes Bush. Biafra holds up the mirror to the Bush administration and what stares back don’t look pretty. An excellent spoken word 3 CD set - Biafra rants, rips and reclaims the notion of patriotism from the twisted trigger happy brainwashing of the greed fuelled corporate Bush America. Four hours of vitriolic engagement from the former Dead Kennedy’s front man - we’re still half way through disc 1 but the highlight so far has to be his sneering observation that the largest democracy in the world is being run by a ‘a Dick (Cheney), a (George) Bush and a Colon (Colin Powell)’. www.alternativetentacles.com

Elvis Presley ‘Memphis Recording Service - the Rise of Elvis Presley - Volume 2’ (Memphis Recording Service). Admittedly a tad pricey but well worth every single penny. This exhaustive set follows up last years acclaimed Volume 1 release though this time lumbering in at twice the size. Again strictly limited to just 2,000 pressings worldwide this must have collection features a specially pressed one sided 7” of ‘Mystery Train’ taken direct from the original Sun stamper. In addition there’s a DVD Audio disc that includes a wealth of rare audio performances from the legendary Louisiana Hayride and Eagle’s Hall performances as well as radio sessions, interviews and studio recordings dating from 1954 and 1955 - some of which have been taken from personal demo recordings. There’s also a short video featuring hat is believed to be the first footage of Elvis. To wrap up the set superbly a 350 page book featuring an extensive look at the year (1955) in which Elvis came to be - includes ultra rare never before seen memorabilia, artefacts, photos as well as a complete studio and live recording schedule for the twelve months. A perfect companion it has to be said to Peter Guralnick’s authoritative tome ‘Last Train to Memphis. www.memphisrecordingservice.com


Other stuff….

Art rocker #51 - more mirth, mayhem and musical goodness than you can shake a rather medium sized boogie stick at - Artrocker your quick, easily digestible fortnightly shot of what’s to like and not to like features interviews / features with the super sexy CSS, the equally cute Brighton based duo Blood Red Shoes (who also feature on the CD - see below) and Ireland’s Simple Kid while live spots include the unfeasibly stupendous Erase Errata, Victorian English Gentlemens Club and Rank Deluxe. As if your not being spoilt enough there’s a teaser issue of a new publication ’The Fix’ included in this bumper Xmas edition, officially slated for shop shelf space 26/01/2007 this new monthly journal promises to inject a little insanity into your life as it focuses on all things comedic - this sample issue features the return of Frank Sidebottom - perhaps not the best way to head yourself up and advertise your wares. Elsewhere there’s a killer freebie CD featuring 22 of the best unsigned talent currently vying for your attention on the underground scene - and sad to say of which about 70% are previously unknown to us. Xerox Teens we swear we’ve stumbled across at some point kick in ‘Darlin’ - think Higsons meets Pigbag meets Talking Heads - crooked undanceable (unless you’re double jointed) frenzied funk. Bolt Action 5’s ‘Gurl Howl’ think very early XTC. Woman previously unknown to us - we will have to bag ourselves a copy of their debut mini album - offer up their brand of contortionist pop in the shape of ‘Cat Feet’ a slinky little number that for the best part had us envisaging the Belle Stars getting up close and personal with the Gang of 4 on the floors of Studio 54. Das Wanderlust’s ’the Orange Shop’ - blame it on this ongoing cold of ours but never let it be said that we ever forget a killer tune - scratched our heads about this one wondering where we’d heard it previously - of course it features on that superb compilation from Holland’s Transformed Dreams entitled ’Ammehoelahop’ (www.transformeddreams.com) though the version you get there is the slightly edgier ‘rude’ mix - by far the by thing here - casio kookiness with Lene Lovich and early Toyah overtones. Untitled Musical Project who will be massive in 2007 (well in a perfect world anyway) stump up the rampant hot rodding blistered blues boogie that is ’I don’t need you honey, all I need is rock ’n’ roll’ think ’Ca plane pour moi’ having the shit kicked out of it. Tiny Masters of Today we love them here and would love them more if their label Tigertrap would stump up the goodies as promised - ho hum - ’Stickin it to the man’ makes for a cool slice of gnarled garage stomp of the type that both Italy and Bad Afro records have an unenviable knack of stumping up. Mon Oiusch’s ’Us versus Wigan’s newly chosen handful’ apparently earned its appearance literally days before the CD’s mastering - here in its demo form - blistering high octane three chord, three minute punk pop with more than a whiff of Diggle fronted Buzzcocks about it - certainly ones to watch out for. ’This city holds us all’ by the Situationalists - another band who’ve annoyingly slipped our radar do a snazzy line in Billy Bragg meets Tom Robinson Band meets toe tapping zippy indie perfection. Sadly our CD gave up the ghost from track 16 onwards so we aren’t able to comment on Attack! Switch Attack!; The Sharp Ease: Manic Cough; the Official Secrets Acts; the Bridge Gang; (the excellently named) What would Jesus Drive or Popular Workshop - still I bet they are all mighty fine gems to behold - suppose that means getting myself another copy then.

NME (9th December 2006) features glued to its cover the third and final instalment of their ’independent thinking’ series - following on from showcase CD’s featuring the wares of the Transgressive and 1965 record labels last up has the spotlight on the multi national outlet Modular. Well we say spotlight instead of the much looking forward to time spent listening to the likes of Wolfmother, the Presets and New Young Pony Club along with goodies previously unknown to us such as Van She, Softlights and Bubmblebeez all we sadly got was 52 minutes of white noise which though we were tempted to review as it kinda grows on you it has to be said left us rather deflated - and there was us with our bunting all carefully laid out - bastards. Inside the magazine news that Green Day have three albums in the can - whoop - fucking - eee is all we can say, there’s a spotlight on the Tiny Dancers who we must admit are pretty nifty on the evidence of their first two singles, a best of 2006 thing (yawn)which pretty much takes up the entire issue - well the parts of the issue not crammed with adverts for records that you, your neighbour and your neighbours pet dog frankly wouldn’t cross the street for - you can tell I’m really pissed about the CD can’t you.

Update - worse still there’s a Christmas double issue of nothingness (what have you done to my NME ya bastids -how I used to love those NME double issues - humour, sarcasm, inventiveness…..now sadly it reads like a portable billboard). That said you do get a free calendar - super (not) and as though we just can’t get enough NME there’s the barely readable and excruciatingly thin New Year Special which frankly we haven’t had the courage to read yet though can report it does at least redeem itself by having the Good, the Bad and the Queen (in whose ranks a certain Paul Simonon and Damon Albarn can be found) featuring inside and staring menacingly from its cover.

In sharp contrast the alternatives alternative to the NME - Plan B continues to go from strength to strength with each passing issue - we haven’t had a chance to check out the latest issue properly but #17 features the very excellent Deerhoof beaming from the cover while inside Thurston Moore - he of the Sonic variety - interviews Ron Asheton - he being of the Stooges variety, elsewhere there are specials on Wolf Eyes, Subtle along with all your usual under the counter culture gubbins. And for those still wavering on the fence an additional prod comes in the shape of a 11 track cover mount CD featuring a positively healthy looking smorgasbord of sonic adventures emanating from the ATP recording roster among the assembled stellar cast cover stars Deerhoof, Jackie-O Motherfucker (whose name appears to have been somewhat censored on my copy), the Drones, Bardo Pond, Fursaxa and Death Vessel.

And just as we were stuffing our faces full of Christmas cheer and parcelling up this particular missive with shiny bows and glittering ties the sad news reached us of the passing of the most sampled artist of all time the soul legend that is Mr James Brown - he was the MAN. Elsewhere - well via those nice people at Dark Cultures - www.darkculture.net we were saddened to hear of the recent passing of Yvonne De Carlo probably better known to most as Hermann Munsters long suffering wife Lily -and staying with actresses a few weeks before Xmas (10th November to be precise) Diana Coupland died following heart surgery complications - Coupland was best known for her roles as Jean Abbot in the long running sit com ’Bless this House’ where she provided a foil to Sid ’Abbot’ James as well as her casting as Daisy Crompton opposite the late James Mason in Bill Naughton classic portrayal of bleak Northern family life in ’Spring and Port Wine’.

My Space gubbins (more later on….)
www.myspace.com/modesoftransportuk - kooky nuzzling ear wear from Nottingham - rip ‘fall like dominoes’
www.myspace.com/snowwwwhite - rip the stately Soviet sounding ‘lullaby’ or the twinklingly beauticious ‘loss for mira’ - both cuts culled from the forthcoming ‘wonderland’ full length.
www.myspace.com/caminanterecordings - for all you Merzbow completists tuck into the tasty ’slow down furry dub’ from his recent merzdub full length collaboration with Elliott Sharp
They describe themselves as Hawaiian psychedelic ghetto-tech which loosely translates as well tasty toe tapping rumble like tuneage - honey cube can be found at www.myspace.com/honeycubeband - rip the furious rough as a bears arse ‘150 faded’

Albums you should be tuning into - frankly we’ve literally took the wrappers off them and all three are corkers -

Dear and Glorious Physician ’S/T’ (New Granada) - described as a mash up of the Pixies, Talking Heads and Fugazi - we ain’t arguing hook up to ’spooky action’

Viva Vertigo ’Vulcan Gas Company’ (Slingshot Sound) - simply fuckin stunning - 50’s bubblegum meets 60’s garage via 13th floor elevators, blue oyster cult and link - check out ‘baby likes dark rock ’n’ roll’, ’wind full of diamonds’ and ‘remember me’

Graboids ‘infinite delay’ (stick figure) - remember when you first heard Sigur Ros’ ‘Agaetis Byrjun’ in particular Svefn G Englar and Ny Batteri well factor that sense of awe by 10 and there’s still enough room to swoon - key tracks - quite simply the whole damn thing.


The Singles……..

Tobias Froberg ‘God’s Highway’ (Poptones). Another little gem of a record it has to be said from those dudes over at Poptones and a perfect companion to that rather wonderful Singleman Affair release via the same label. In many ways ‘God’s Highway’ proves to something of a marketing cock up for Poptones given that what with the time of the year i.e. Xmas, the weather - cold, dank and dark and the sight of brightly lit lanterns festooning the night time village life (okay I’ve over exaggerated there - instead read nasty looking festively decorated house fronts) had it been released now it would have by rights cleaned up at the Christmas record tills and saved a great many of us the very real torture of some thoroughly odious cringe worthy sentimental crassness being piped 24/7 from he tinsel tinged interiors of high street shops. Instead this will be out a mere week or two before official springtime in the UK when due the rigours of global warming we will no doubt be basking in a sub tropic climate with occasional flurries of snow - the message and the sentiment I fear will be lost somewhat. Two albums under his belt Swedish folkster Tobias Froberg returns to the fray with the deftly alluring ’God’s Highway’ fills you with a warm inner fuzzy feeling - lushly executed this serene sounding honey tipped gem is replete with the gentle cascade of tumbling pastoral exquisiteness and bathed in the kind of lazy eyed tranquillity that’s perfect for turning the steeliest of souls into swoon like awe, like a festive Fahey recital this nuzzling little cutie is like a picturesque welcome from a greeting card - warm, comfy and inviting in other words a Greg Lake that it’s okay to like. Touching to say the least. www.poptones.co.uk

The Freed Unit ‘Winter Solstice’ (Out There). I won’t deny that for me personally one of the highlights of the year has been the discovery that the Freed Unit (after years of thinking otherwise) are in fact alive, well and judging by things, in very creative moods. Currently to be found (‘the horror album’) on the excellent and hugely recommended ’Hollow Smoke’ compilation via Sorted Records, Leicester’s finest folk psyche-sters can also be found on this specially commissioned and limited DVD accompanying the yuletide greeting that is ‘Winter Solstice’. The DVD features an animated video crafted in the finest tradition of those oddly obscure eastern European animations that used to pepper children’s TV in the early 70’s coaxing into the bargain amongst the tiny youth of the day a mixture of eerie puzzlement and surreal creepiness. Shot on Super 8 and directed / created by the Freed’s Matt Kerry ’the Snowman came inside’ tells the tale of a hapless Snowman tricked by Jack Frost into seeking shelter in the warmth of the indoors, once inside guzzling some moonshine gin getting helplessly rat-arsed, melting and fusing the Xmas lights - sounds a bit like our gaff if truth be told. Back dropped by ’Winter Solstice’ which finds the Freeds in typically crooked spirits with the echoes of Barrett’s hallucinogenic whimsicality drifting through the ether, those much in love with the bands criminally overlooked masterpiece of wonkily conceived reclining daydream folk pop ’Gigglegoo’ will not be wanting as this cutie craftily stirs with the same lightly flavoured spangle like bubblegum motif that drifted throughout that full length to draw the invisible dots between ‘Emmeline Angel’ and ’the whistling song’ - the video can be seen via you tube at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tLbgHIT0kBQ while copies ordered via the band through their website arrive hand numbered and include a freebie artefact of original art work from the animation - ours in case you were wondering is a dinky cardboard cut out of Jack Frost. More please and sharpish with it. www.freedunit.co.uk
Christmas 2006 ‘Van 133’ (Static Caravan). This years special Christmas present from those nice folks over at Static Caravan (previous years have seen releases from FortDax and in house band the Stags dispensing the now obligatory yuletide greetings) appears to be a key ring, well I say appears to be, it looks like one - the give away clue being a chain with a round thing on it attached to another round thing with a picture of a snowflake with the Static Caravan emblem inside it. We have tried playing it - well you never know and having already been found caught out and not once I hasten to add (see dotb and ellis island sound) I’ll be buggered if I was going to be hoodwinked a third time. Sad to say no tunes were forthcoming though our hi-fi did make an appreciative grumble - at least I think it was appreciative. So from that we can safely deduce it is a key ring that opens bottle tops - blimey the things you can get these days - a key ring and a bottle top opener, all I need know is a bottle and a key and I’ll be part of the human ace I guess - well I can dream can’t I? No doubt limited. www.staticcaravan.org

And staying with Xmas - if you type in the following magic link on that there PC in front of you - http://www.wonderfulsound.com/radio.htm you’ll be able to hear the latest instalment of pod casts designed, concocted and put online by those nice Superimposers people - this particular edition is a Christmas special.

And Christmas would not be Christmas without Frank Capra’s ‘It’s a wonderful life’ - well if you click on the following link you’ll get to hear the Lux radio production of the same ultimate yuletide feel good movie featuring original leads James Stewart and Donna Reed - http://edu.blogs.com/edublogs/2006/12/christmas_podca.html if that’s whetted your appetite for a spot of classic radio serialisations then hop onto Old Time Radio at http://otrcat.com/all.htm where you can sample all manner of goodies from the bygone era.

The KBC ’Test the Water’ (High Voltage). Second release from Preston based trio The KBC following their much in demand ‘Not Anymore’ debut which to the sounds of much gnashing of teeth we haplessly missed in our gaff. ’Test the Water’ is a full blooded four minute slice of 80’s influenced heads down adrenalin pumping gnarled groove that’s bolted to the floor by the hypnotic underpin of a relentless cranium crunching drum beat. Not a million miles in terms of style, texture and attitude to a lighter variant of the Longcut, ’Test the Water’ works its charm by fusing a hybrid austere post punk edge with the heavy hanging brooding atmospherics of early Chameleons into a disturbingly catchy slab of driving grind that by rights should send the coolest club floors into states of swoon like delirium. www.highvoltage.org.uk

David Gilmour ‘Arnold Layne’ (EMI). Those with a more than casual clue as to the back catalogue of Pink Floyd will no doubt be well aware that throughout their career singles where pretty much regarded as a rarity factor regularly sidestepped as they were with a chin stroking air of defiance to play the pop card in favour of the album. To find single releases by Gilmour is rarer again notwithstanding the fact that this little baby sees him paying tribute to ’lost cadet’ Roger ‘Syd’ Barret in covering the English psychedelic nugget ’Arnold Layne’ and the much overlooked ’Dark Globe’ from the former Floyd front man’s ’Madcap Laughs’ set. This cutie is an ultra limited release available for only three weeks after which it’ll be deleted. It features two versions of ’Arnold Layne’ - a sordid tale of a fetishist knicker nicker (see kids it wasn‘t all about Lear-esque surrealism, kaleidoscopic acid flashbacks and obtuse in band joke dialogue) - both recorded live at the recent Albert Hall shows with both David Bowie and Floyd keyboardist Rick Wright taking up the lead vocal duties. Dame David’s version edges it in terms of faithfulness though there’s not a lot to separate them, Wright’s reworking providing a considerably heavy edge with a subtle rootsy flair flanked by swathes of 60‘s Hammonds while Mr Bowie (incidentally 60 on Monday) sharpens and applies his best barrow boy accent. The acoustically drawn ‘Dark Globe’ leads out the set to cut a renewed resonance from the Barret song craft capturing along the way a new found lilting poignancy yet nevertheless still falls far short of the impish fractured mindset of the original. Overall disappointingly lacking originality and vision but hey f*cking great single.

Gentlemens Pistols ‘Lady’ (Rise Above). We don’t do new year resolutions here but if we did sailing pretty high on our agenda of must do this year activities would be to keep up to speed with current Rise Above release roster. Having already wowed and had us a whooping for more with releases by Circulus and Leaf Hound the blighters now go and deliver up Gentlemens Pistols much to our hi-fi’s adoration. No information on this lot though hotly tipped by the label for great things. ‘Lady’ sounds like its stepped dizzily and bleary eyed from out of a day after the night before rave at Woodstock into modern day, like a reclaimed lost underground classic from another era this honey could easily be the product of a long forgotten record warehouse find that you regularly hear about. ‘Lady’ is a stoner gem of worth, like a laid back Zep after a session on some particularly potent weed, blissed
out blues with Hendrix accents aplenty tousled and teased by a loosely focused Thin Lizzy and scored by a subtle jazz inclined twist that leaves you begging for more. Flip the disc for the more up front shit faced funk fused blues boogie that is ‘Creamy Lid’ - so smokingly sexy it should be certificated - not ‘arf. As with previous releases - ultra ruddy limited to just 500 copies with 100 of those coming pressed up on some tasty looking clear vinyl and housed in die cut company sleeves. How can you refuse. www.riseaboverecords.com

Acoustic Ladyland ‘Salty Water’ (V2). Much to our embarrassment we’ve somehow managed to miss / avoid (delete where applicable) to date the charms of London based quartet Acoustic Ladyland and I fear it is us who have lost out in that bargain. With a handful of albums under their collective belt including the recently released ‘Skinny Grin’ (which no doubt we will secure as our own in the forthcoming week or so on our next record buying reconnaissance) and from which the original version of ‘Salt Water’ is so ably taken for remix duties of drummer Seb Rochford and the legendary Scott Walker. Acoustic Ladyland have over the years carved out for themselves an ever growing fan base, their brand of genre bending free base wired punk jazz chaos has warmed converts from a wide ranging musical spectrum, sound wise an abrupt and splintered mainlining of guitar less bravado inspired by John Zorn with a veritable kinship to the likes of Morphine, Scatter et al. As said two interpretations of ‘Salty Water’ feature here, Scott Walker’s mix proving to be the most accessible, jerking rhythms moulded into a crunching new wave matrix meter out a furious hybrid of agit grit and darkly atmospheric post punk creates enough sinew straining verve to keep the most casual avant garde viewer interested though for our money its over on the flip where the real nugget is to be found. If Walker’s mix was frenetic and mental then Rochford’s is a volatile and caustic slice of disintegrating shards of white noise wired to a persistent backdrop of cranium pummelling freak out art rock drumming that on occasion veers close to Henry Cow being bludgeoned by Atari Teenage Riot - rampant and beautifully brutal stuff.

Lee Hazlewood ‘Baghdad Nights’ (BPX1992). Anything that hasn’t already been printed about Lee Hazlewood probably ain’t worth saying, the man is a legend and even with the advent of death’s shadow upon him can still, at the ripe old age of 77, kick out the kind of tightly wound catchy as hell slice of side winding boogie that can still turn long serving admirers positively green with envy. Recently diagnosed with renal cancer Hazlewood has seen the completion of his ‘Cake and Death’ set (from which ‘Baghdad Nights’ is culled) as his parting gift and if this little gem like nugget is anything to go by then a fitting on song departure for a career spanning six decades (a career that has seen him turn his hand to not only song writing but arranging and producing - his first noted success with Duane Eddy way back at the tail end of the 50’s). Wrapped by a killer side winding groove to make even Cooder / Van Vliet swoon, the well crafted lazy eyed ’Baghdad Nights’ sees Hazlewood turn his smoking gaze on the Bush administration and their treatment and utter disregard for the troops in Iraq, partly kooky and comical partly sarcastic, as sharp and upbeat as ever he impishly points the finger from the perspective of the soldiers all the time immersed in a vibrantly lush wash of succulently cured brass arrangements that occasionally pay subtle nods to Love’s ’Forever Changes’ and so damn infectious you’d swear the description was made for it. The reflective and achingly saccharine ‘T.O.M. (The Old Man)’ features over on the flip, again lifted from the ‘Cake and Death’ set, this heartbreaking ballad gently coaxed by the merest of drifting string arrangements that seem to act like crutches is a serious tear jerker think upon it as a delicately balanced hybrid of ’Over the Rainbow’ and ’It was a very good year’ - pass the kerchief please and quick to it. Deputy single of the missive.

These Arms Are Snakes ‘Good Friday’ (Suicide Squeeze). No doubt this cutie has been out for an absolute age but I’ll buggered if I was going to let this baby slip the net. Limited to just 2000 copies and pressed up on what can only be described as grey marbled vinyl - this twin pronged outing is - if previous Suicide Squeeze releases are anything to judge by - destined to sell fast - so you’ve been warned. With several well honed releases under their collective belt These Arms are Snakes where voted best hardcore band by their hometown publication the esteemed Seattle Weekly. As said two cuts feature here ‘Horse Girl’ providing the lead track of the set a see-sawing hotbed of jagged rhythms and splintered time signatures, a blistering fusion of sharply woven hooks that veer between post rock and math rock accents that superbly mask an edgy though subtly wired austere post punk underpin as though an early career Killing Joke where being hotwired by a hardcore friendly variant of the Beastie Boys. Flip side features the equally tensely mooching ’Old Paradise’ which if we didn’t know better we’d have said had been honed and crafted in the classic tradition of those defining mid 90’s releases from Touch and Go a la Storm and Stress boogying hard to Jesus Lizard. Well worth the trouble tracking down I heartily venture. www.suicidesqueeze.net

The Fondas / The Ettes ‘From the Songbook of Greg Cartwright’ (Sympathy for the Record Industry). Another label which at one time in the distant past was a constant source hi-fi hullabaloo in our gaff though sadly in recent years we’ve kind of lost track of much to our regret is Long Beach’s celebrated Sympathy for the Record Industry. As their web site strap line has it ’a name you can pronounce since 1988’ - these sharp dudes have plied their trade across over 700 releases in that time have worked with anyone and everyone who is anyone and everyone including the White Stripes, Von Bondies, Hole, Mr Airplane Man, Whirlwind Heat, Scarling and the latest cute kids on the block - the Willowz. This limited split release sees both the Ettes and Detroit’s the Fondas covering a song apiece from the workbook of Greg Cartwright - Cartwright for those unaware has carved himself an enviable CV having played with the Oblivions, 68 Comeback and the Deadly Snakes to name but three. The Ettes are the first out of the blocks with a throbbing spiky bubblegum punked up cover of ’We repel each other’ that has you imagining Suzi Q fronting up early 80’s 2nd wave punsters Vice Squad, this leanly stripped hip hugging cutie marries fuzzed overlays and sucker punching hooks with an audacious infectious zeal to make even the most reserved cognoscenti swoon uncontrollably. Not to be outdone five piece pop rockers the Fondas take on ‘Don’t come back’ and give it a smartly turned out new wave refit that ultimately sounds like the work of a super group formed from remnants of ‘Plastic Letters’ era Blondie and ‘Kid’ era Pretenders - so catchy is it that it might be wise to seek jabs. www.sympathyrecords.com

Candie Payne ‘Take Me’ (Deltasonic). Yes I know it’s been out for ages, no doubt sold by the bucket load and fetching silly money on various online auction sites just like her incredibly hard to find debut ’All I need to hear’ (which incidentally we have several copies of - the result of a record buying spree gone slightly awry - hey I’m not complaining means I can wear out the wax to my heart’s content) - but the truth is we’ve just nailed our copy, and hey we love it, it’s my writy thing and frankly I can do what the buggering hell I like - if you have a problem - like I care (but then deep down I do - that’s the kind of guy I am). Okay that’s the bollocks sorted - ‘Take me’ is a colossal pop nugget - just like a certain time travelling device its bigger on the inside than its outer 7 inch shell lets on, a seductively lush homogenisation of 60’s beat pop via Dusty and Sandie awash with a hip hugging street cool of Cannonball Jane that’s sweetly cured by a hazy arabesque backdrop that sounds to these ears as though its been picked straight from Will Sergeants riff rucksack and threaded with a drop dead gorgeous array of John Barry inspired brass arrangements which combined together make for a booty shaking cool as f*ck carnival of sound. Flip over for ‘Nightclubbin’ sadly not the a cover of the old David Essex nugget from the 80’s but a rather smart toned down sleek 50’s inspired slice of smoking jazz balladeering - slyly seductive to the point you may think it a good idea to grab yourself a cold shower afterwards - essential of course but then I figure you guessed that for yourselves. www.deltasonic.com

The Terminals ‘Dictator’ (Double Dragon). Purchased on a recent record buying rekkie - we did misread this as being a release by the Termites (it must have been the tears of joy obscuring our vision) - how we laughed. Pressed on heavy duty vinyl - and we mean heavy duty like if you aren’t careful it’ll give you a hernia just whipping it out of the sleeve - and pressed on red vinyl. I’ve sold it to you already haven’t I - go on admit it. This killer twin pronged thing is the debut release by Leeds based quartet the Terminals and a blistering ball dropping bag of brazen boogie it is to. ‘Dictator’ is an unrelenting rampage of to die for gnarled garage groove the type of which is much loved by the cooler residents of that hallowed Motor City, Detroit - opening to a spot of sly slow tempo 50’s styled drive in smoochiness this baby soon erupts with venom - think Reverend Horton Heat cross wired with Mudhoney and styled with lip curls and attitude by the Stray Cats. Flip over the slab of wax for the cutely contagious and heavy rotation MTV honed ‘Repeat Offender’ - bristling in a melodically razor like wall of chugging guitars much reminiscent in terms of approach to those early Buzzcocks outings yet crafted with feel good boot shaking vibe - Mega City 4 meets Split Enz anyone - you know it makes sense. Essential if you know what I mean. www.doubledragonmusic.co.uk

To My Boy ’The Grid’ (Abeano). Follow up release to their rather fine - hang on what am I saying - corking debut release from a few months back ’I am X-Ray’ (which if memory serves we cast a critical eye upon way back at Missive 105). Scouse electro duo To My Boy up the ante several notches with this slice of riotously spasmodic pre school paint box schizoid power pop. As previously these dudes share their collective mindset with Winterbrief, Bis, Girlinky and Zea and sound as though they were breast fed on ‘Amateur Hour‘ era Sparks and frankly have a more than passing encyclopaedia like understanding of their post punk forefathers. The subliminal ’The Grid’ is a speed freaking strobe effected beauty that filters through its matrix an audacious borrowing of classic Gang of Four accents into which is wired a smartly honed austere edge that belies a muted melodic grace, kind of ‘Metropolis’ gone death disco all said and done a cutely frenetic slab of over driving cosmic candy pop is what you get for your troubles. Flip over for the equally engaging ’Mono’ - more kooky casios in varying states of breakdown, less frenetic than its lead out other half and deliciously deranged in a daft but loveable way - frankly any half decent record collection ca scarcely exist without it - purchase on sight. www.myspace.com/abeanomusic

Matt and Kim ‘Silver Tiles’ (Moshi Moshi). More reasons for us to be a tad gnashing of teeth with the news that those arbiters of sassy tuneage - Moshi Moshi - now have a singles club doing the rounds to which to date there have been - 4 releases - which given we’ve managed to nail down release number 2 (or is it 3?) means that by way of our rudimentary grasp of mathematics we are somehow 3 releases short - bugger. Matt and Kim as you can probably deduce from their name are a duo based out of Brooklyn, as with To My Boy (see elsewhere) they play schizoid hand holding tangy corrosive candy pop tunes that are padded out with wonky keyboard codas cultured in the finest tailoring of sparse 80’s accents. ‘Silver Tiles’ is cutely shambolic, a lo-fi naivety prevails throughout that’s part deceptively deranged and yet deliciously divisive that sounds like an indie disco grinding re-drill of Laurie Anderson’s ’Superman’ spliced through with veritable nods to Carter the Unstoppable Sex Machine and a healthy dose of frazzled off key electroid jerkiness as though certain favoured arena pleasing synth mid 80’s backdrops a la Europe / Van Halen had been recklessly force fed through a huge hulking blender and emerged from t’other side a little worse for wear for the experience. Better still awaits over on the flip side ’5k’ has you imagining a bubblegum wrapped Pixies being replicated via one of those toy town midi presentations though the more you play it the greater that nagging feeling of an underlying guilty passion for Trumans Water becomes ever more prevalent - very crooked indeed and loveable with it but then I guess you gathered that already. www.moshimoshimusic.com

The Slits ‘Revenge of the killer Slits’ EP (Only Lover Left Alive). Yes I had to do a quick double take myself scarcely believing what I was seeing. Well no doubt you’ve heard all the rumours and if you are one of the fortunate few then you’ve probably caught them live quite recently. The return of the Slits no less and their first release in something like a quarter of a century - (now don’t that make you feel old). Now I ain’t gonna spend the rest of the review writing up a quick at a glance historical reference piece to the Slits there’s plenty of stuff on t’internet to source all you’ll ever need to know -- safe to say that they’ve been saddled in hindsight as one of the prime movers of the post punk period and if by chance you haven’t heard of them by now then I deeply suspect your musical inclinations. The Slits these days seems to consist of Ari and Tessa who on this occasion are augmented by Marco (Ants, Wolfmen - who by all accounts are damn tasty) Pirroni and ex Sex Pistol Paul Cook with guest vocal appearances supplied by the band members offspring including a certain Mick Jones’ daughter Lauren - man I’ve got a headache already. So what’s the three track blighter like, well if I’m honest re-union releases are always no brainers - agreed - usually the band in question can never seem to please all and sundry - if they end up sounding the same their accused of lacking insight or imagination and thus chasing old glories - if they dare depart from the accepted template in some shape or form they are under severe scrutiny and the basis of the reunion in the first place is called into question. So how do you best solve the problem - is it the old at the expense of the new or do you just take up where you left off - or else do you mix it up. As you can imagine from a band who once had the nerve to appear on an album cover topless wearing grass skirts while being caked in mud the Slits have lost none of their savvy or their ability to play the system. Three tracks feature here - one I dare say you could shuffle amid your old time Slits record collection and not bat an eyelid (‘Kill them with love’), another is a superbly executed modernist refit of the old blueprint (‘Slits Tradition’) while the third puzzlingly belongs to the drummers former charges and though quite nifty kinda ruins the spectacle somewhat. The record then - this 7” release no doubt stupidly limited and pressed up on candy floss pink wax opens with ‘Slits Tradition’ a heavy bearing claustrophobic futuro punk accented slab of darkly edgy wiring austere fuelled electroid menace whose sights take up Cobra Killer as a starting reference point and freewheel into its matrix a heady brew of early Cabaret Voltaire and the Normal that sees it teetering just the right side of the electro clash brigade yet scored throughout with elements of hip hop and the type of minimalist technique that would have both Wagon Christ and the late Muslim Gauze swoon in admiration. ‘Number one enemy’ over on the flip is your straight forward heads down no nonsense two chord spit ’n’ sawdust rumble romp the type of which was much loved by the Class of ‘76 though the cherry topped worthy of the entrance fee alone treat here comes courtesy of the lightly toned, seductively infectious radio friendly ‘Kill them with love’. Boasting a solid production and a floor rumbling bass underpin the like of which hasn’t been heard here since those crucial Clint Eastwood and General Saint / Eek a Mouse releases from the early 80’s, this cutie serves notice to the likes of Lily Allen et al cross wiring as it does dub / reggae overlaps, jittering drum ‘n’ bass rhythms and primal earth beat accents into a bootylicious display of crisply honed perky pop - Coldcut meets the Fugees anyone? More please…….

Alfa 9 ‘Deadman’ (Blow Up). Ah Blow Up records - last seen punching sizeable holes in our poor bewildered speakers not so long back with that corking Neon Plastix double A side release ‘Dream’ / ‘On Fire’ and fast becoming one of the singled out record shed’s most treasured labels stump up this tasty limited release by Newcastle Under Lyme quintet Alfa 9. Albeit it’s been out for an absolute age - hey we just got our copy okay - ‘Deadman’ is taken from the bands debut full length ‘Then we begin’ (which bearing in mind this version of singled out is somewhat delayed is probably already out selling bucket loads and in so doing has led the label to commission more of the same with a second opus - probably already in the can - oh to be perfect). Anyhow I digress - I must admit at my fondness for the way this little honey saunters throughout its three minute time slot, deliciously equipped with an opening brass fanfare salvo swiped straight out of a Serge Leone Mexicana stand off, this softening gem broods sweetly breezily assuming in its stride drifting elements of the late 60’s notably the Byrds while revealing a more than passing air of Wonky Alice’s ‘Caterpillars’ with its surging gear shifting pace which in our books makes it something worthy of repeat plays until a new whole has been worn into the vinyl. ‘Indian Summer’ features over on the flip a warming slice of savour the moment lazy eyed gently strummed acoustic pop that’s probably best served skulking beneath a tree amid a picturesque setting on a hot summers day idly watching the clouds slowly pass into the distance - for those of you still puzzled as to what it sounds like think of a serious chilled out LA’s. One’s to watch for I suspect. www.blowuprecords.com
Okay not as previously advertised - seems we cocked up big time with the next release - this particular version of the Violets hail not from Brooklyn but from the UK - two boys and one girl and they craft for your discerning ear a crooked brew of austere angulated friction - kinda Siouxsie / Lene Lovich fronting ‘Rotten Fruit’ era Dead Kennedy’s if the preview of ‘Foreo’ via their my space site at www.myspace.com/thevioletsuk is anything to judge by - so apologies all around - In the meantime we’ll nail a spanking brand new copy of the single and give it another whirl on an impending Singled Out. That said the review below is kinda wrong in a right way if you get me drift though still check out Brooklyn’s Violets - now you wouldn’t want to miss out would ya.

The Violets ‘Foreo’ (Angular). Do you ever get those days when nothing seems to be going right, you know the type of days when things break and you even begin to question your own sanity - yea - well welcome to my world - I am having one of those days right now. Two problems here - firstly I swear we’ve come across the Violets previously and have indeed reviewed them in terms of much glowing admiration. Can I find the review or even the said disc that I suspect I’ve reviewed - can I bugger as like. Secondly a more importantly - ‘Fureo’ - pencilled as their next single - street date 19th February - a taster no less for their soon to be released debut full length due in the Summer. We have a pre release promo - and there we where settling down for a tasty spot of frenzied guitars and twisted hooks courtesy of Brooklyn’s favourite three piece and what do we get - one and a half minutes white noise - which arguably could be the track though I heartily suspect it isn’t - and just for the record I ain’t gonna make the same mistake as the legendary hapless hack who played and reviewed to much hilarity the blank side of a Lennon acetate for his planned debut solo release. Still as far as white noise goes it’s pretty tasty - Hijokaidan fans be on alert. In the meantime we will nail a proper copy and recommend for now you go to www.myspace.com/theviolets and check out the killer ‘Over You’ or the smouldering ‘Riot in the City’.

Leave the Capital ‘Matchsticks’ (Org). There’s a slight of hand nature about these three tracks which feature on the debut release from the much talked about Cardiff quintet Leave the Capital in the way they attach with mercurial grace to your sub conscious. Melodically astute there’s no doubting that there’s a rarefied song craft at work here picking away at your emotions and sending shivers down your spine while scrambling the neural zones. Each of these cuts would provide a mission accomplished high point to most young bands currently treading the inkie column inches careers. ‘Matchsticks’ tunes itself in the early 80’s principally referencing the sky piercing needle like riffmanship of the Edge as found on ‘October’ and craftily moulds it as though laboratory tested by Scots overlords Swimmer One into a tenacious star crossed honey fit for a listening experience by any would be modern space cadet, delicious driving cosmic pop that see saws seductively led from the front by a husky to falsetto in the blink of an eye vocal that sounds the result of a cross DNA match between Peter Gabriel and Billy MacKenzie. The glacially gliding ‘Versus’ is similarly equipped, once the deceptive fraxzled gritty opening passes this gem blossoms into a life affirming honey crusted nugget not unlike a genteel South braided and softly caressed throughout by the gentle saunter of soothing jet streamed jangles that fizz and fire resplendently to a brief combustive crescendo. All said and done though nothing quite touches the shyly nuzzling parting shot ‘You can’t kill an idea (with a gun)’ - emotional draining, this impeccably arranged slice of serenely spectral stately star pop marries together forgotten early Verve b-sides only to replace Ashcroft’s mellowed tones with Robert Wyatt’s day dreaminess with sly traces of that undervalued duo Birdpen - quite perfect if you ask me. Joint deputy single of the Missive. www.organart.com

Telley ‘Aw Mum they made me read’ EP (Hitback). If I’m being totally honest it was thanks to this particular release that my faith in music was restored - reviewing records can be such a lonely business, you question your judgement, the words arrive at a painful pace and there are days when the written and the listening don’t happily marry - but then along comes this little beauty and it’s as though the blighter has wrote the review itself. Not officially out until early March but this is proving to be to f*cking gorgeous to keep a lid on until then. First of all let’s get the dull housekeeping out of the way - Telley are a London based quartet. Rumour has it they formed via email - they feature various ex and current members of Spearmint, Scaramanga Six and Mikrofisch and one of their number suffers from severe stage fright which I guess is the reason why the little cartoon pic depicting the band on the accompanying press release only has three persons on it. ‘Aw mum they made me read’ is the ensembles debut single and a right little belter it is too. Three cuts 8 and a half minutes in total duration - you’d be understandably huffy in thinking you’d been short changed here but let me allay your fears we are talking three tracks and eight and a half minutes of no filler lean and mean potent uber pop. Hitting the road running the title cut ‘Aw mum they made me read’ opens the proceedings, a brief kooky keyboard intro and a momentary blaze of guitars and then its off and out into cosmic space age bachelor pad realms - best way to describe this beauty is to say it’s a super group formed out of Stereolab, St Etienne, Bis and Helen Love with each ensembles having their best traits distilled and woven into a prime cut sub three minute slab of audaciously addictive aural action painting. Frenetic, feisty feel good pop that’s ablaze with euphoria and resplendently festooned with a pulse racing verve and drop dead gorgeous grooved sassiness that most of their peers and the competition will happily swap back teeth for. In simple terms it’s quite perfect. ‘The artist and the investment’ follows in quick pursuit, replete with chugging guitars and a vague though warped west coast vibe this honey zig zags and morphs at will without prior warning through an array of rhythmic changes with no regard to the notion of time signatures at such a pace you fear it’ll spontaneous combust at any given moment - best filed within spitting distance of the recent Magoo full length ‘the all electric amusement arcade’. And while your scrambling to draw breath ‘Primary colours’ wraps up the set - a lushly arranged pristine pop appreciation of 60’s accents basking in subtle washes of early 70’s glammed up sugar pop braided with wave upon wave of silken synths, the kind of thing that radios were made for and frankly so ruddy perfect it makes you cry. And while they don’t change the pop landscape to any great degree Telley at least get to work with their flourescent colouring box and give it a much needed freshly hued paint job.
Joint single of the missive unless I‘m very much mistaken - which I‘m not. www.telley.co.uk

My Device ‘Eat lead’ (Shifty Disco). There was a time many, many years ago when the advent of a new Shifty Disco release brought upon us a warm and fuzzy light headed good to be alive vibe - how we loved those dinky little releases finding their way from the mail box to the hi-fi. How we marvelled that each release was - or so it seemed - better than the last. We did at one point suspect that they were illegally cloning bands in a deserted non descript shed that escaped the gaze of would be Morse sleuths. And then they stopped. Dried up. Finito. No more. We were heart broken. Emails were sent. Emails were ignored. Crestfallen we picked off whatever Shifty Disco releases we could find on our frequent record buying soirees - we seldom came back with any much to our regret. So why am I boring you shitless with this woeful tale well simply because not only am I staring, holding and playing a Shifty Disco release but that there are three of the blighters right in front of me as clear as day and the nose on my well formed face (note artistic licence). Among the trio of releases a crunching twin pronged rocking bastard by the hotly tipped Brighton based trio My Device who in their short career to date have bestowed upon the record buying public a handful of limited downloads, an official debut single in the guise of ’I was brave today’ as well as a full length entitled ’Nervous System’ which I’m certain we have but just can’t place my hands on at the moment. In addition they were winners of the much coveted Walkman Breaking Bands competition hosted by the NME. Okay enough of the press rambling to the single. What can I say- blistering, that’ll be blistering in a Godfathers type way because as with the much missed Coyne brothers combo My Device certainly know their way around a fret board as well as having the good fortune in having a well primed intuitive craft for a spanking tune. ’Eat Lead’ starts out sounding like some wired schizoid baiting homage to Devo, fragmented and frantic, this baby soons strips to the raw and bares its teeth amid a blaze of locked down gut rupturing riffs the type of which that make you grind like a bad ‘un while filtering in some well aimed yelping woo’s and a chorus hook that leaves tyre marks across your psyche - makes their peers seem like a bunch of clueless chancers. Better still awaits on the flip - the exhaustive though exhilarating shot in the arm ‘Slamming Doors’ is vicious and brutal, possessing all the subtly of a baseball bat to the face - this speeding bullet of a cut is a hi-octane rumble that‘s as tight as a gnats naughty bits, a rampant pop dynamo blistering with venomous angst and frankly the kind of thing that’ll have you happily bouncing of the walls and reminding you why you fell in love with music in the first place. Joint deputy single of the missive. www.shiftydisco.co.uk

Working for a Nuclear Free City ‘Rocket’ EP (Melodic). Quietly tripping out towards the later half of last year, Working for a Nuclear Free City’s self titled debut full length provided a rare treat for all who stumbled upon it. Not your straight forward collection of tunes by any stretch of the imagination but instead a curious aural spectacle that aside being focused and having you second guessing at each passing turn of the corner, ultimately sounded like an extended collage of all the best bits from you and your friend record collections. At it’s best divine - at its worst simply stunning, it bent genres at will - one minute exacting princely pristine pop - the next abstract fragmented echoes like a radio dial tuning out of familiar and yet unfamiliar sounds from the distant past. Several months on and four new tracks emerge from out of their secret Wilmslow sonic bunker here gathered together as the ’Rocket’ EP. Opening with the title cut - ‘Rocket’ oozes a mercurial class and a knowing arrogance not seen round these parts since the early days of the Bunnymen, that’s not to say that this is a Mac and Will wannabe - far from it, instead this shyly lit gem courts with a sly soft psyche splendour beginning with a low key atmospheric entrance it draws you immediately steadily growing in stature unfurling its chilled uber cool craft until your transfixed by its trip like warming effervescence replete with slinky melodic mantras, succulently shimmering guitars and an impeccable glazed side winding riff that will frankly leave you struck dumb. The angular ‘Heaven kissing hill’ provides for an altogether different beast, a strangely off centred and woozily light headed spot of lysergically enhanced daydreaming folk that pays vague nods to Arab Strap and Ivor Cutler as though partaking in a momentary out of body experience before fragmenting in a discordant siege - quite disturbing if you ask me. The bleak Bristolian screen playing instrumental ’Waiting Game’ basks in Chandler-esque realms where noire-ish rain swept after dark jazz interplays flicker, cavort and morph delicately into a breezily chilled out and perky workout.
‘Stone Cold’ leads out the set - inviting you to kick off your shoes, recline and lose yourself somewhere else far from the maddening crowd - as the title subtly hints it’s a superb rewiring of the Stone Roses ’Waterfall’ as though re-drilled by Tunng - too tasty by half. www.melodic.co.uk

Fanfarlo ’You are one of the few outsiders who really understands us’ (Label Fandango). The more astute and keen eyed readers among you may well remember us falling arse over tit in our undying appreciation for this lots official debut release for those bastions of crafted melody Fortuna Pop entitled ’Talking Backwards’. A few months down the line the London based six piece have relocated themselves to the fledging Label Fandango - a new singles only joint label venture put together by the respective head honchos of Pointy and Fierce Panda. The exhaustively titled ’You are one of the few outsiders who really understands us’ is a superbly worked slice of tear trailing tragic candy pop, as previously the subtle spectre of World Party sumptuously wafts throughout these two shy eyed gems. Despite its downcast outer shell ‘You are…..’ is an affectionately stirring sugar burst of easy on the ears pristinely turned out pastoral pop flashed through with the wintry hue of slender brass arrangements, spiritually tied to the Smiths apron strings this strangely contrasting multi season nugget toys and teases playing your heartstrings like a well worn banjo. That said it’s the flip cut which provides the best moment here - ’In the Trunk’ just sucks away at your emotions as though someone has carelessly left the tap running and in so doing has bled dry your resistance. Magnificently poised its slow almost stalking dynamic ekes out a blood pumping tension that superbly sits at odds with the delicately breeze like melodies that stir colourfully and calmly throughout, with nods to the Elephant 6 Collective and cut from a shyer shaded from the daylight Baccharach cloth this tingling honey comes airily decorated in lush string washes and 60’s styled brass fanfares that somewhere along the line have managed to lose their kitchen sink dramatics - literally undoes you from the inside out and if truth be told the best thing we’ve heard around the parts since those crucial Shady Bard and Decoration releases. Joint single of the missive. www.clubfandango.co.uk

XisLoaded / I am the Door ‘Split’ (Sugar Shack). A blistering face off that sees Bath’s finest XisLoaded square up to Bristol’s best - I am the Door for what is a must have limited to 500 copies red wax 7” release - which by rights should fly out of the distribution depot before it‘s ink has scarcely had a chance to dry. ‘Momentum Fails’ is XisLoaded’s first recorded outing in three years culled as it is from their forthcoming long player ’Trench’ a copy of which landed on our door mat a few days back and which on initial peeks we can heartily state without fear of recrimination that it’s gonna put a few noses out of joint just by its melodic ferocity alone. Embarrassingly ‘Momentum Fails’ and the aforementioned forthcoming full length are the first things we’ve heard by XisLoaded and what a beautifully scorched racket they make. In terms of intensity both bands come out even Stevens packing what can only be described as a colossal rumble of some note. XisLoaded’s ’Momentum Fails’ is a primed and loaded three and a half minute heavy bearing bastard of a cut replete with searing riffs and the kind of ravaged sinew snapping apocalyptic edginess that pays subtle nods to Killing Joke while simultaneously grabbing you by the throat and playfully throttling you to within an inch of your life. I am the Door found over on the flip serve up the equally engaging ‘Our own radio’, festooned with a frontline assault of stellar ripping tightly honed quickly drilled angulated early U2 / Edge riffmanship that literally punches huge holes in the skyline this frenetic babe - whilst ever alert to its rock pedigree is built upon a rampant post punk styled disco-fied foundation which if your not careful will irresistibly club you into submission without so much as a by your leave. A brutally essential release in our book. www.sugarshackrecords.co.uk

Balor Knights ‘Tornado’ (Phantom Power). Bugger - we’ve somehow managed to mislay the accompanying press release that came attached to this damn fine cutie - but hey who needs stinky press releases when the toons can speak for themselves . Hailing from Sheffield and much loved by those scene meisters Thee SPC / Thee Humbug and proud parents of several (by all accounts) well honed releases, Balor Knights are a quartet who you suspect kick out prime slices of sizzling pop without a second thought, the head spinning ’Tornado’ is case in point. Effervescent, delightfully catchy and dressed in a kind of fuzzy felt glow that makes your insides tingle - think Soft Parade’s lost gem ’Nobody told you anything’ rewired with a youthful Velvet Crush - fizzing with west coast melodies the type of which, if you didn’t know better, you’d swear they’d hoodwinked from those cute Irish types the Thrills. Filter into that sun kissed matrix some drop dead perfect boy / girl vocal interplays, lashings of candy coated fuzz and you have yourself a feistily vibrant sub three minute sugar rush of hip wiggling toe tapping tonic. Flip over for the added treat of the furious ’Get Straight’ a brief but brutal frenetic rocker that deceptively freewheels bloated pop hooks with rubber burning friction, a manic angular diamond haemorrhaging with ruptured time signatures and blessed with a hot wired riff swiped straight out of the Ruts text book and laced through with what, at key intervals, sounds like prime time Dinosaur JNR grooving with early career Stereolab with Supergrass impishly casting an eye over proceedings. Dare you pass up? Those of you smitten already check out the positive plethora of downloadable MP3’s on the bands website via www.balorknights.com - as to single - www.myspace.com/phantompowerrecords - nuff said.

Dead Wasps ‘Mexicola Bare Essentials’ (Deadwasps). Literally just taken delivery of this little two track cutie. The debut release no less from (now relocated to) Manchester quartet Dead Wasps ‘Mexicola Bare Essentials‘ takes several leaves out of Roger’s and Salon Boris‘ breathless futuro club throb and seductively laces it with a smouldering seductive soul edge. Draped across a back drop of aloofly acute retro electronics that coolly and ominously exude an icy minimalist chill culled straight from the Normal’s ‘Warm Leatherette’ it makes for a contrasting spectacle with Hayley Mitchell’s vocals softly purring to engage a tenderly smoking warmth atop the frosted hypnotic floorshow of buzz sawing floor rogering grooves. The ‘Testicola’ mix of the same cut on the flip provides the more alluring alternative - with its craftily toned 80’s retro re-arrangement this throbbing babe works a treat pulling and teasing at the original template priming it for club floor action, an infectious marriage of austere electronics and meaty techno / house accents that blossoms and radiates into an all consuming bulging hot, horny and sweaty desire fuelled after dark honey - classy doesn’t even begin to describe it - cold showers optional but advisable. Those with suitably whetted appetites are heartily recommended to head straight for their my space site at www.myspace.com/deadwasps and check out the simply alluring ’Precious Time’ - a deceptively distracting nugget that should by rights be one of the surprise soundtracks to this years festivals - think primarily New Order and the early 90’s Manchester club scene fused succulently with prime time Massive Attack and Everything but the Girl - killer stuff.

Union of Knives ‘Infant Eyes’ (Relentless). Probably been out for ages this cutie but the truth is we’ve just nailed our copy. Union of Knives are a Glaswegian based three piece, to date they’ve posted a plethora of acclaimed singles with a recent full length ‘Violence and Birdsong’ proudly tucked under their collective belt. The ‘Operated on’ EP comes packaged as a tasty double vinyl set featuring four cuts, two of which appear on the aforementioned long player albeit one of them a radical reworked remix. Union of Knives craft an alluring brew of epic cool as f*ck after dark electronic pop, the dirtily throbbing ‘Infant Eyes’ the opening cut is laced with seductive hip grinding mooching analogue keys set to a slow burning sweat fuelled panting sexual maddeningly infectious clockwork club floor backdrop, not a million miles in terms of abstract style and aching tension to a cross wiring of Mansun and White Rose Movement. The bent and twisted ‘Operated on’ pulled from the aforementioned full length is a darker and more brutish affair paying a heavy set nod to Radiohead in the main, fractured, minimalist and edgy this impenetrable monolithic mass of sinew straining edginess ruptures at intervals to reveal brief pop spectres. Elsewhere the previously unreleased buzz sawing quick tempo floor rumbling ‘Every treasure’ initially combines elements of a darker variant