Missive 62 (remix)
07-04-2005
Singled Out

Missive 62 (reprise)

With love to Kelly and Mark – missing you so much.

‘Singled Out – what your hi fi would read given the chance.’

Okay not quite how we planned it – this was meant to cleverly segue into the last missive but server problems and the like kinda screwed it up – so the joke is on me – like always. Okay ready for another jaunt on the ding dang doodly doo Singled Out – you better bet you are. More woes from the now legendary great lost CD box plus a few spiffing ‘you’ll be sorry when their sold out’ gems from tomorrow – no chit chat this time (hurrah I hear you all cry – and when I say all – yes just you my one and only listener – even despite the fact you’ve tuned into the wrong web site expecting some easy action) – other than to say there’ll be another all singing all dancing singled out this time tomorrow (or maybe even tonight) at a PC near you followed by a vinyl only special over the weekend which we guarantee will feature guitars galore hurrah!.

Opening this particular –

Kiosk ‘One day I’m going to go stratospheric on you and chances are you’ll thank me for it’ (Surface 2 Air). Welcome kids to the fucked up uber groove of Kiosk. The keen eyed spotters among you may remember that we first stumbled upon this lot way back at Missive 21 when this pretty damn smart seven inch fell into our laps, the title alone barely fitting the confines that the sleeve allowed for. Some 18 months on it seems that what with you lot not taking note first time of asking are about to be pummelled by one of the tastiest morsels of the season. ‘One day’ is a crunching tour de force of jugular slicing twanging riffs gritted with an early Gallon Drunk swamp blues appeal tied to the decks by an unflinching Meg White like rumble and the sultry but impatient to psychotic vocal tease of Krissie. Bolstering the lead cut are three additional slabs of Kiosk fun, ‘Sickblues’ is all at once sexy and sadistic, curdling amid some jarringly frayed dynamics, sometimes not a million miles away from those early wired moments from Killing Joke’s back catalogue, its fucked up spirit oozes with a sense of simmering menace that’s blistering, unforgiving yet strangely alluring. ‘Daylight Robbery’ stripped down to just vocals and a strumming guitar as it may be, it is perhaps the best of the set, a distant cousin of the Breeders ‘Cannonball’ and really that’s all you need to know. Bringing up the rear in fine style the killer ‘Make it Stop’ which, sleaze and peeling sexuality aside, could prove to be the start of a new listening accessory with it’s psychedelic space country blues smoulder. Deputy single of the Missive – aw go on then you know it makes sense. www.kiosk.me.uk

Yellow Bentines ‘And then there’s you’ (Self released demo). There’s something utterly feel good in the way these two Yellow Bentines cuts attach and connect to you. Maybe it’s the rolling piano keys that underpin the compositions or the way the brass arrangements tweak to cloak the arrangements with a wintry aspect, whatever the reason there’s an at odds tug underway where the apparent shine that lies deep at their heart are scratched with a hitherto downcast mood. But then those who like their pop a little uncluttered and removed of fussy trimmings may do well to hook up with this debut demo. Yellow Bentines are a Glaswegian quartet initially coming together as a side project to the Devotions until the latter called it a day and this rather nifty two-track demo serves as the ensembles debut release. ‘And then there’s you’ is saturated with an enriched touch of Bruce Hornsby as though being invited to join an early out on the road working version of the Trash Can Sinatras, teeming with enough upbeat appeal as to suggest its brought the sun along in tow, mature, mellow, breezy and after a few spins impossible to walk away from. ‘Pay Cheque’ on the flip is the darker half, if ‘and there’s only you’ was shading from the sunshine, then this brooding beauty is cowering beneath deep set overcast skies waiting for the inevitable storm to burst, and with that it’s a more robust proposition as it squirms to a veritably more edgy and volatile backdrop that believe it or not lies somewhere between the Pale Fountains and a less fraught Micro Disney. Both cuts available as a free download (we are led to believe) from their website so now you have no excuse and nothing to lose, an ensemble to watch for methinks. www.yellowbentines.co.uk

The Exports ‘A Letter from the Whiz Kid’ (Oak Road). Another of the growing number of records we’ve managed to unearth in the great ‘hey I thought you were lost / Hey so it’s you causing all that racket from underneath the bed’ mystery. Absolutely no information on these kids, we suspect there was a press release but that’s gone to the mysterious place where bits of paper accompanying CD’s go to. That said we are quite certain they are from Manchester. Now before we go any further lets get this straight from the beginning – this is a fookin’ killer release. The Exports are a Manchester based trio who it seems love their sound spiky and delivered at a head spinning 100 mph velocity, yet instead of the usual tendency of most bands of this ilk who seem to revel in maintaining a sense of power and menace over substance, these kids thread their shocked pop with melodies and harmonies aplenty. Lead cut ‘A letter from the whiz kid’ is cut from the cloth that made the Buzzcocks and Mega City 4 such a listening treat, all serrated riffs, manic vein popping intensity and melodic immediacy that’s all tightly wrapped up in the furious sub 4 minute grip of high octane adrenalin fuelled fuzzing pop punk. ‘The Backstreets’ the weakest track here still manages to conjure enough crunching pogo fun to leave most of the chasing pack standing dumbly still yet its the skull punching ‘Don’t even want to’ that gets the vote, so frenetic and sharp it could’ve easily fell off the sessions for ‘Love Bites’ and as you know kids that’s no mean feat. www.theexports.co.uk

Penny Red ‘Monsters’ (Self Released Demo). And while the Exports may be waving the flag for the Buzzcocks up in the North down South, more precisely on the streets of the Sussex / Essex borders, its safe to say that those celebrated moments from the Diggle / Shelley songbook (just fast forward to the jarring riffadelic homage of the Teenage Fanclub like ‘Monsters’) haven’t been lost either on four young upstarts collectively known as Penny Red. Scarcely a few months down the road from the last time they were featured in these pages (‘Say you will’ demo in Missive 39 – to be precise) and how they’ve honed and matured that vibe of 77 / 78 into something reassuringly formidable. ‘Monsters’ like the aforementioned ‘Say you will’ demo is production wise stripped to the bare bones and that kids is what makes this release such a must hear event, gritty, and rough there’s no studio manipulation this is after all, one would guess, a live warts ‘n’ all one take session and with that the spirit, energy and anger is captured, bottled and waiting for you to release the cap and let all hell break loose and yet by choosing that DIY approach the added ingredient of honesty comes into play. This demo features 7 searing cuts of up and at you street punk, with ‘Say you will’ from the last EP proving to be one of the main attractions given that its the slowest, slinkiest and most melodically treated of the Penny Red canon, still sounds to these ears like a pub meets early Stiff punk ditty with some pretty smart touches of Dr Feelgood, Tom Robinson and the Faces floating in the equation. ‘All she said was now’ calls to mind the fusion of the combined effect garnered by the polar extremes of both the Turbines and the Vaselines which let’s face you don’t come across to often so when you do you know its gonna be special. ‘Wanted it to End’ is cut with the kind of power punk pop coda that you’d rightly expect to set alit the radio valves if it was let loose amid the more sympathetic deejay culture while those still doubting the credentials of Penny Red at this point ought to check out the choking foot stomper ‘Dead Beat’. Armed to the teeth with a vicious snarl and a pyrotechnic personality this shit kicking killer is a direct descendent of the much overlooked Chron Gen and could almost claim to be the half brother of Hertfordshire’s finest classic row ‘Outlaw’, all in all its barbed, brutal and ballistic stuff and well worthy of the admission fee alone. Deserving a place in any well ordered record collection. www.pennyred.org.uk

The Bustups ‘They’re airborne’ (Step Aside). Hand on heart we never tire of a spot of wholesome top drawer Ska truth is we never get to hear as much as we’d like so you can picture the scene of us nearly falling over ourselves with joy when we banged this debut release on the old CD player. The Bustups are a Swedish six piece who it seems have been wiling away their days immersed in all things Two Tone and hey – why not we say. Produced by ex members of the legendary Skalatones, ‘No fun at all’ lands you back to that late 70’s Coventry scene, the shuffling up beat rocksteady rhythms eliciting an sunny infectious grip that recalls Selector and the Bodysnatchers. ‘New fast and angry’ utilises elements of swing as the added ingredient and with that sounds like a ringer from the Dexy’s sessions for the ‘Searching for the young soul rebels’ sessions while still adhering to the spiritual essence of Prince Buster (of whom ‘Linton Bob’ is as perfect a homage as you’ll find here) and Desmond Dekker, while the slamming pace of the hip swinging ‘Rude girls club’ could easily be a half cousin of the Specials ‘A message to you Rudi’. Storming stuff. www.step-aside.com

Satellite Dub ‘Click to Enter’ (Self Released). Featured in these very pages just a few missives ago with the superb ‘Power off Einstein’ EP which if you haven’t invested in yet then the question has to be asked why are you reading these missives in the first place? Satellite Dub is the brainchild and vehicle for the multi talented Craig Brown and as with previous releases ‘Click to Enter’ is strictly limited to just 200 copies so we suggest you get off your arses and grab a piece of the action because with Festival season looming these little gems could prove to be the late night entertainment blasting from the decks of those in the know. As previously this EP features three more psychotropic trips into the cosmic void to find Brown capably fusing electronica and studio wizardry with elements of club culture to share the same melodic currency as Brighton’s very own Puffin Boy. ‘Magnolia Lane’ opens the set incorporating a hybrid Sun Ra aspect to its core that’s been dusted down by a throbbing drum ‘n’ bass grind that’s left to bask in the celestial glow of sun spot action all the time tenderly trimmed by a serenely delivered nursery room coda. ‘Trying to stop a tank with your hands’ is a darker affair still, trance vibes screw up your head with their looping hypnotic overload as they lock target with the heavy bearing Front 242 interpretation of euro disko creating into the bargain a heady psychotronic mind set to blow you away. Closing the set with the gem like ‘Hardware Software Nowhere’ is where space rock meets futuro pop, not a million miles from the gruelling warp ambient slant of Echoboy’s ‘Scene 30’ this fluid hyper driving shape shifter gives a unique glimpse of what the offspring resulting from an illicit late night studio meeting between Jean Michel Jarre, Orbital and Yello might have resulted in. Of course goes without saying essential, expect turntable slaughter action at a club near you. www.satellitedub.com

The Vitamins ‘Fire’ (Red Flag). We start off by saying this is the shortest release this missive nicking in at just under six minutes via two cuts, but then when the stuff your doing is so direct why waste time over elaborating? Finding a home amid the assembled cast at Red Flag (the excellent Ten Speed Racer and Future Kings of Spain – not to be confused with the Future Kings of England whose recently received full length is something of a corker) the Vitamins are a London based quartet with a thing for the blues and broken hearts as ably demonstrated on this their debut release. ‘Fire’ is a stripped to the bones baring all world-weary teaser, set around an un-fussed simplicity with just a guitar, drums and a strolling harmonica for company it could’ve been carved in the deep south regions of Americas finest musical territories given its timeless attention to detail, think very early P J Harvey flirting with as if possible a nakedly rough and ready sounding White Stripes. Flip side ‘I saw you with her’ is a more together fuller sound with lead vocalist Rebecca coming across like a hybrid and primal sounding fusion of Suzi Quattro and Joan Jett that’s neatly set against a slyly stalking T-Rex like motif. Damn fine if you ask us. www.thevitamins.co.uk

Telex ‘byp/ ctrl’ (Fortune and Glory). You’ll be glad to hear that we think we are getting the hang of this review lark thing, well it’s only taken about 5 years – we are after all slow learners because this literally dropped through the mailbox just this very morning – and well, if the initial laboratory tests that we’ve been carrying out so far are anything to go by then this should by rights do some serious damage to the repeat button on your CD player. Telex are a quartet (Andy, Robert, Jonathan and Eric in case you were wondering their names) and so far have one self financed release under their collective belts a release apparently so hot that the dudes at Fortune and Glory are still having to administer boil cream to the sensitive burn areas. Now obviously there is much gnashing of teeth here at Singled Out HQ because this one musta tweaked its way beneath our radar. ‘byp / ctrl’ features five cuts of softly wandering psychedelic hymnal electronic / guitar pop, especially on the emotionally vanquished sensitivity bleeding from the silently disarming ‘Reverberation’. ‘byp / ctrl’ manages to be tenderly tranquil for the best part until the arrival of distortedly vicious frenz laden razor sharp hooks clambering to suffocate the listening space [‘Motion Sickness’ / ‘Tropism’]. The angelic ‘System’ sounds heaven sent like a monastic variant of Low, chiming chords loop curvaceously arcing amid celestial climes to create euphoric landscapes that a partly upbeat but grazed by a weary sense of tearful melancholia. ‘Patches in the Sky’ with its breezy stratospheric sweeps smoulders and prickles in the finest tradition of those more intimate periods found nuzzling between the grooves of Porcupine Trees near perfect ‘Stupid Dream’ full length. ‘Tropism’ shapes up to serve more of the same built around a hazily drawn dreamland aspect replete with unexpected twists of cosmic overloads ravaging the set for a truly head fucking experience. Favoured cut of the set is the awesome opener ‘Motion Sickness’ what initials ambles out to pass for a serene slice of updated Simon and Garfunkel soon erupts and cuts up into a psychotically fucked up charge of frazzled and frenetic lead riffs that implode in on themselves al a Mr ‘Radiohead’ Greenwood c. ‘Paranoid Android’ – the dogs bollocks without doubt. Single of the Missive. www.fortuneandglory.co.uk

As is always the case my debt and gratitude to all those who’ve made these musings possible whether it be the bands, press agents or labels – too many to mention but you know who you are and of course not forgetting you, yes you for taking the time out to wade through these ramblings and I sincerely hope you find something to set your record collection a-chattering feverishly.

Complaints, death threats and offers of marriage (the latter two being the same thing I suppose) readily encouraged, we do like emails and I promise not to bite and more importantly to reply.

‘The Sunday Experience – coming real soon to a PC near you’

Take care of yourselves,

Lots of love,

Mark
X

Singled Out is best served chilled with a speciality side erder all lovingly tendered on a slow bake.

**Singled Out is a fat free product tested on Hi-Fi’s in controlled conditions. Repeated dosages may cause infrequent bouts of exuberance and wig flipping – if side effects continue – desist from all activities retire to a darkened room and repeat experience at maximum volume.

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