Chipmunk Paste

BEACHBUGGY Killer Bee (Poptones) Alan McGee signed Oasis once. You think he's going to let you forget that fact? Great slice of nervy, old school New Wave like those Wire tunes y'r grandma used to hum from between her falsies. Shame on producer Steve Albini, though - I thought he was more xenophobic than this.

BRENDON BENSON Metarie (V2) 'I'd really like to see you every day,' sings the simpering Detroit Brian Wilson fan, 'but I'm afraid what my friends would say.' They'd say: grow up, drop it and stop feeling so fucking sorry for yourself, you big crybaby twat!

BURNING BRIDES Plank Of Fire (V2) Philadelphia trio rediscover Foo Fighters' third album and the joy of masturbation: what d'ya mean, it's the same thing?

CAPTAIN SOUL It's Alright (Poptones) 'You've got it/I want it, baby.' Damn straight. And you ain't getting it either, Cap'n 'I wish Gram Parsons was still alive' Soul.

MARIAH CAREY Boy (I Need You) (Def Jam) Yum, yum. Chipmunk paste.

CLIENT Price Of Love (Mute) Client: A and Client: B think they're so damn retro-kitsch modernistic with their taut, joint skirt and piscine electronica: but Sarah Cracknell is an awkward fashion icon at best.

FOUR TET She Moves She (Domino) Papercuts a-hoy! Guitar stutters, soporific electronic beats croon and someone plucks something; meanwhile, Super Furries and Coldcut have a bitch-spat in the showers.

THE FUTUREHEADS: 1-2-3-NUL! EP (Fantastic Plastic) Dan Treacy's tormented, nave, psychedelic visionaries TV Personalities get reinterpreted by a handful of spunky, '79-loving, Sunderland boys. There are certainly far worse crimes against nature: Davina McCall, for one.

JEANS TEAM Gold und Silber (Kitty-yo) Like listening to Sonic Youth's 'Daydream Nation' on acid, with the sound turned off and Sunderland bridge lit up at Christmas: we're talking texture here - the crystalline chimes, the cool, laidback, deliriously Teutonic vocals, the silver and gold. German club elektro rarely sounds this poised.

THE MUSIC The Truth Is No Words (Virgin) Calling a rock band The Music is like calling your bathroom The Water or the local farmyard chicken The Lunch. It's a crap idea, matched only by the crap, prematurely aged blues-rock.

PARTY OF ONE Shotgun Funeral (Fatcat) Here, 'funk' means bile and alienation, brittle guitars pounding out a rhythm of disgust like Waterman given a Sad Fucking Face; words dedicated to 'you pricks in the present' - chords brutally final. Party Of One hail from the Twin Cities USA, where the temperature slips below -20 C - and you just know someone's gonna sue Minneapolis and St Paul's ass for being disrespectful to 9/11. Play that funky oboe music, white boy.

THE POSTAL SERVICE Such Great Heights
(Sub Pop) It's probably a little late for Sub Pop to be diversifying into cutie bedroom laptop electronica, especially when the act in question is fronted by someone from the 5th Dullest Band Official from the Pacific Northwest, Death Cab For Cutie.

SERAFIN Things Fall Apart (Taste Media) 'Ben Fox Smith writes lyrics that are sick, yet amusing: his music is dynamic, exciting, melodic,' says the 18-year-old with pigtails and a lip ring transcribing a Detroit Cobras tape. Really? Sounds like more anaemic, nasal, white boy indie twaddle to me.

SIMIAN La Breeze (Source) Sure, the world - or at least our tiny section of this once bejewelled isle - would be a happier place if it was The Coral, not Coldplay, making the fumbled anti-war speeches at corporate bum-fests.

STONESOUR Bother (Roadrunner) As heard on the Spiderman soundtrack: like Nickelback, only dull (spot the deliberate mistake).

JIMI TENOR Black Hole (Kitty-Yo) He got the FUNK. Like being given an entire X-Girl catalogue to choose from, and picking only the six-inch bell-bottoms.

THE USED The Taste Of Ink (Reprise) The Used fail the fundamental rule of rock: it has to fucking ROCK! Kerrang! has them down as 'one of the very best American bands of their type'... What, mediocre? Makes Foo Fighters sound like Nirvana (ha, ha).

 

© 2003 Everett true


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