I love a miserabilist and when it comes to the dour and the despondent, one figure looms large — yes, Morrissey, lead singer of The Smiths.
The Smiths were a heady mix of killer guitar innovation and bedsit angst that left itself scrawled all over the world of rock. A quick scan of the current who’s who of rock and their influence is clear. Interpol, Radiohead and Franz Ferdinand have all spent many an afternoon locked away with their favourite Smiths records, as have Canada’s latest starlets, The Organ.
Their debut album, Grab That Gun (Just Music), sounds like The Smiths and Blondie fornicating in the back of a car. But, much like Interpol, these five young lasses have taken their influences and melded them into an original offering that satisfies more with every listen.
So too does the re-released debut of Scotland’s Orange Juice, which sounds like The Smiths and Talking Heads fornicating in the back seat of a car.
However, in 1981 — when Orange Juice were busy recording the material that makes up The Glasgow School (David Gresham Records) — Morrisey and Marr were still three years away from forming The Smiths, making this album the long-lost link between David Byrne’s art-rockers and the Manchester miserabilists. If that doesn’t make you want to go out and buy this album, then there is no helping you. Which brings me back to Morrissey.
His new album, Ringleader of the Tormentors (Just Music), is a fantastic return to form, full of literary wit and sadness. But when you’ve changed the whole face of rock’n’roll, who is really expecting much more from you? Do yourself a favour: get one of these albums to mope around your bedroom to.
ALSO ON THE SHELF
DJ Muro and Kon and Amir
The Kings of Diggin’ (Kurse Music Distribution)
The Kings of Diggin’ is a two-disc deluge of dirty breaks and rare funk discoveries, courtesy of New York beat freaks Kon and Amir and Japan’s DJ Muro. As part of the Kings series from the quintessential DJ-friendly Barely Breaking Even label, this collection celebrates the art of “digging”, which boils down to looking for the perfect breakbeat in grimy record basements and flea markets. The two discs assembled here are remarkably different in approach. Kon and Amir drop their languid 17 selections almost in full, while DJ Muro takes the 1am option, quick-mixing 44 obscure hard-hitters with the riotous flair of a favela gone ablaze. The Latin vibe permeates throughout, so dance lessons are advised. — Kwanele Sosibo
Cortney Tidwell
Don’t Let Stars Keep Us Tangled Up (Kurse Music Distribution)
If most debut novels are autobiographical, then most debut albums are often a pastiche of an artist’s favourite musical moments. It follows, then, that Cortney Tidwell’s youth was soundtracked by some fairly seminal albums: Bjork’s Vespertine, Radiohead’s Ok Computer and any number of Sigur Rós albums. The girl has taste and talent by the bucketload, but let’s hope album number two sees her forging ahead to create her own sound, tearing her influences from her sleeve and stuffing them in an old closet. Don’t get me wrong; this is a beautiÂful album that will stand its own against other debuts this year. It just has this little nagging element that makes me think, “Wait, haven’t I heard this before?” That said, if you’re into interesting shuffling beats, kooky vocal operatics and shoegazer, wall-of-sound guitar, then you can’t go wrong with this Texan’s debut. — Lloyd Gedye