Foster The People - Torches

There was a time when every band around was The something. It became something of a joke, so much so that English musician Matt Johnson called his group The The (which still confounds some search engines to this day). As a result there was a backlash against 'the' and for a while no self respecting band would have it in their title. Then there was the renaissance, and bands that wanted to sound retro had names starting with 'the'. The thing I'm starting to notice is that it's back again, but as a middle name. I've already reviewed Young The Giant, and read a lot about Tyler, The Creator. Now we have Foster The People. The legend has it that Mark Foster had been calling his band Foster and the People, but it was misheard and he liked the nurturing image the name presented without the 'and'.

But enough about the name. I'm here for the music, and the music is great. Pure unaffected electro pop. Musically the album is as shiny and upbeat as that first warm day of spring. Somehow it carries that warmth with it, like an aural hug. It's a 100% effective mood enhancer. Chock full of danceable beats, toe tapping rhythms and catchy melodies. There's even tracks with whistling, didn't anybody tell mark Foster that nobody whistles anymore?

Lyrically we're not looking at threatening any of the giants like Cohen, Cave, or Waits. These are pop songs, and aren't trying to punch above their weight. Most of the album seems concerned with the interpersonal connections so frequently referred to as 'love', but not in any painful longing sense. It feels very young and innocent in that way. Like the album hasn't had its heart broken yet.

The only downfall of an album of such simple innocent joyous pop, is that there's not much to be gained by deconstructing or overanalysing it. Get yourself a copy of the album, turn it up, and infuse your winter with a little aural warmth. I guarantee you'll enjoy it*.


*not a guarantee

Joan As Policewoman - The Deep Field

Joan Wasser is one of those artists that I think should be much more popular than they are. As a violinist and pianist she's played with Rufus Wainwright, Antony & The Johnsons, Sparklehorse, Scissor Sisters, and even luminaries like Lou Reed and Elton John. She's not just a musician though, she also sings and writes, and in my opinion she does it all quite well.

I've liked Joan's two previous albums (2006's Real Life, and 2008's To Survive), but not with the all consuming passion of obsession. Tracks like Eternal Flame, and Furious have turned up in occasional playlists though. Although I'm freely willing to admit that I just didn't spend enough time with those albums.

The Deep Field has changed that trend. I know I listened to the album a lot so I could review it, but I was grabbed on my first run through. So I think I would have probably spent the time on this album anyway. This theory is backed up by the fact that this is her highest charting album to date (although the high water mark of #40 on the UK chart really doesn't do her justice).

There's a vibe to this album, almost a through line. It feels like a cohesive body of work. Not that it's a concept album, just that it all feels like it was played together. Like the band sat down and banged out the whole album in a single session. No retakes, no overdubs. Just musicians in a room. It's like you've walked into your favourite small jazz club (think Sydney's Basement) and they're the band for the evening.

Not that this is a jazz album, although Joan does have a great jazz voice. It's kind of hard to place in terms of genre. There's a little bit of funk and swagger to some tracks, and a quiet understated beauty to others. In contrast to much modern music the songs aren't brief either. Nothing clocks in at under four minutes, which takes us well outside the realms of pop, but nothing feels like it outstays its welcome. Even the friendly jams are completely free of self indulgence.

The real standout track is Forever And A Year, which grabbed me by the ears on my first listen. I think I must have hit repeat half a dozen times before I even heard the following track. It's deep and quiet and beautiful, and easily one of my favourite songs of 2011.

I'm seeing Joan next week when she's in town on her Australian tour, and I can't wait. It's going to be incredible to be in the same room as these songs.

Young The Giant - Young The Giant

Sameer Gadhia, vocalist for California's Young The Giant, sounds a lot like Chris Martin. Not that it's a bad thing. I thought those first two Coldplay albums were brilliant, and there's even moments on their later albums that aren't too bad. Where Coldplay went wrong was in believing their own hype. So many sold out stadiums told them they were the next U2 so Chris Martin decided he needed to be the next Bono. Personally I think one was more than enough.


Some things in music baffle me. I don't know why it's okay to like Ida Maria's I Like You So Much Better When You're Naked, but not to love Katy Perry's Hot n Cold (I vastly prefer the latter, for the record). I don't know why Gwen Stefani is a massive star, and Shirley Manson can't get the record label to put out her solo album. I expect to be baffled by the obscurity of Young The Giant.


I hope I'm wrong. I hope rather than their best hopes being getting a song into the bottom half of Triple J's Hottest 100 that they fill stadiums. Maybe playing Splendour In The Grass will be enough to get people switched on to their music. I hope this because this album is full of stadium sized songs.


Many bands write songs that can fill stadium songs, and then once they do they start writing songs for the stadiums, and not for the music. Kings Of Leon are guilty of this, but they're not the only transgressors. Young The Giant aren't writing for anything but the music, but these songs would sound so at home in those massive arenas.


There's a number of artists in the MOR adult contemporary bucket. Artists like Coldplay, Snow Patrol, Elbow. They write songs with great hooks, inoffensive lyrics, and powerful emotion. Young The Giant are as good as many and better than most. Even their quieter songs seem big.


I haven't really talked much about the songs, but they're good. Apartment is what drew me here in the first place, My Body is catchy as hell, God Made Man slow builds to a massive euphoric release, Cough Syrup is pretty but still maintains a driving rhythm, Garands can only be described as bombastic.


I really hope I'm wrong, and that these guys get the exposure and following they deserve, and if they ever do I can say I told you so. But if they never break and just continue working along at their current level I'll keep buying their albums, as long as they keep making them this good.

Fleet Foxes - Helplessness Blues

There’s a scene in Cameron Crowe’s 2000 film Almost Famous that illustrates the unquestionable power of music. If you’ve seen the film you’ll know the scene I’m referring to. The fictional band Stillwater (complete with hangers on) are travelling on a tour bus, and they’re all angry with each other for reasons I won’t go into (please, if you haven’t seen the film do yourself a favour). Nobody is talking to anybody else, and then Elton John’s magnificent Tiny Dancer reunites them as a group. It’s uplifting, cathartic, and infectious.

The reason I mention this is that I experienced a similar display with Fleet Foxes self titled first album. I was around at a friends place and somebody lamented the lack of harmonies in modern music. To illustrate the weakness of their case I put on the album (I’m never too far from my portable music player) and was greeted by stunned silence. So powerful was the beauty of that album that people seemed almost afraid to move in case they broke the spell.

So Helplessness Blues has a lot to live up to. It’s not just me that thinks so. Fleet Foxes made a number of the important best of year lists, and generated a lot of buzz when they toured. A massively successful debut must be a terribly heavy mantle to bear when it comes time to write your follow up.

For the most part this is a very solid effort. There is a similar sense of timelessness to the songs. Folksy enough to predate electric instrumentation, harmonies from ‘70s FM radio, and lyrics that feel literary . For the most part this album makes me incredibly happy.

However ‘the most part’ by its very nature implies the presence of ‘the least part’ and there is a slight issue I have with the album. There is a touch of jazz that shows up in a couple of songs. It’s mostly subtle and underplayed, and it’s possible that I wouldn’t have minded it at all except for the end of  The Shrine / An Argument where we’re subjected to around a minute and a half of free jazz. A honking squawking squall of noise that I’m sure was making some kind of musical point, but just made me want to skip the song.

Ignoring the jazz  (or just skipping the end of that song) there’s a sense of how hard the album was to write. Most of the songs seem to have two or more distinct parts, and not interwoven. They’ll start out as one song, and finish as a completely different song. Sometimes, as on lead single and title track Helplessness Blues, it works. But largely it feels like incomplete ideas pressed together  to make an album. The thing is that they’re largely great ideas.

It’s a strong follow up, and a great album. I will continue to use Fleet Foxes as key evidence in the case that tremendous music is still being written. I’ll continue to happily listen to this album, and recommend it to others. I’m just not expecting it to stop a room of people flat in their tracks.

The Wombats - This Modern Glitch

There's been quite a long lead time on promotion of this album. The first single Tokyo (Vampires & Wolves) dropped in the second half of last year, and the song actually made it into last years Hottest 100 at number eight. It indicated a different, darker direction for the lads from Liverpool whose first album had been so much quirky fun.

Follow up single Jump Into The Fog (which was released much closer to the actual album release) cemented this new direction, and both songs really gave me hope for an album that had developed musically, and matured lyrically from a debut album which I had thoroughly enjoyed.

That those songs are placed at tracks two and three of the album (following the decent opener Our Perfect Disease) had me settled in and ready for another excellent musical journey. However the whole album came apart at the seams for me with track four.

Anti-D is a track so painfully earnest and simply worded that it's embarrassing to listen to. Pair that with a drop in tempo and the needless addition of a string arrangement and the whole album grinds to a creaking halt. It's possible that outside of the context of the album, and separated from that dreadful song, the latter half of the album could have songs I'd quite enjoy, but it's like my suspension of disbelief was broken, and I couldn't see the great and powerful Oz, just a little man pulling musical levers behind a curtain.

I've tried to listen to the album a number of times, and I've made it all the way through on more than one occasion, and I still quite like those first three songs, but everything that comes after is hard for me to listen to. 1996 is a mawkishly sentimental look back on the innocence of youth. Techno Fan (which is bafflingly getting some airplay) is curiously lacking in energy.

The closest the album comes to redeeming itself is Girls/Fast Cars. The closest they get to the winking self aware  fun of their debut.

Sorry Wombats, I really tried to like this album, but I just couldn't get there. I guess this can go on the 'disappointing sophomore effort' pile. I eagerly await your 'return to form'.