these include: new releases (mountain goats, why), touring bands (king khan, pixies), another 'turning japanese' entry (andersens) and stuff i forgot to play last week (the human league, damon & naomi). plus MUCH MUCH MORE etc.
does that sound nice? it does, doesn't it
subcity.org, 12-1pm or anytime with the nifty listen again button.
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The Social Services - It's Nothing Personal, It's National Security
Two-thirds Glaswegian/one-third Swedish indie-poppers The Social Services have a love-hate relationship with drummer Martin Frödén’s home nation. “Oh Sweden, I’m sorry to say that you’re tedious sometimes,” The Baltic Sea begins, followed by a list which begrudgingly admits its Scandinavian charm (“your recycling facilities are second to none”, “you design such great furniture and storage solutions”). Then comes the bittersweet pay-off - “but nobody smiles back at me” - and suddenly a sweetly comic pop song becomes unexpectedly poignant. When they then cry “we can be your friends!” it’s tempting to declare The Social Services the best thing since sliced Lucksmiths, but unfortunately the rest is less instantly lovable. Medium Pop Ballad is as bland as its title suggests, while a West Coast-accented cover of You Are My Sunshine would’ve sounded lazy even if Glasvegas hadn’t already done it a year ago. But there’s still plenty to cherish; you should at least consider their offer of friendship.
Out 28th September
Why? - Eskimo Snow Short-but-sweet opening track These Hands announces Eskimo Snow’s emotional register. Blessed as ever with a grandiose gift of the gab, these ten tracks see Why?’s Yoni Wolf “facing history with little-to-no irony”, his distinctive speak-croon articulating personal quandaries as opposed to simply dazzling with word-games. OK, so there’s still a fair amount of irony scattered amongst the introspection, but combining wit with intimacy continues to serve Mr Wolf well: for example, the straightforwardly-phrased yet complexly-poignant “these hands are my father’s hands but smaller” introduces a paternal theme hammered home nine tracks later, in album highlight the Blackest Purse’s appeals for parental vindication: (“what should these earnest hands be holding?...Mom am I failing?”). Musically, Why? drift further away from previous hip-hop experimentations, moving them closer to conventionality. But they retain enough idiosyncrasies to ensure that textbook strings can’t eclipse their sparkling intellect, mellifluous innovation and, most profoundly, the rhythmic heart propelling these revelatory lyricisms.
Out 5th October
Okkervil River are good to their UK fans, making the trip to our shores at the drop of a hat these days. Tonight there’s no new record to promote and (presumably) no outstanding label obligation to fulfil, yet here they are, back in Òran Mór for the second time in ten months, and I’m presumably not the only wide-eyed audience member who’d happily make it an even more frequent arrangement. Highlights are bountiful, with Our Life Is Not A Movie Or Maybe the possible pinnacle - live, its quiet bits are quieter, its loud bits louder, and its distortion bleeds even more profusely. Elsewhere, the opening of A Stone scythes conversations into reverential silence, before the Beach Boys-channelling John Allyn Smith Sails reignites the room. “I aint coming back again,” Will Sheff sings in a closing Westfall, but it’s safe to call his bluff on this one.Reputations are mysterious things. Rumours of past gigs had painted Tori Amos as a humourless virtuoso who’d sooner tell talkative fans to sling their hook than let their 
blethering encroach upon her arpeggios. Well, if that Tori exists she’s hidden tonight behind a mesmerising performance, the intensity of its apices offset elsewhere with a playful showiness. It helps that she has pockets of fans for whom the word ‘devotional’ doesn’t seem sufficient, and though it takes a while for the first strangled “I LOVE YOU TORRRRRI!” to lurch forth, Amos plays to their enthusiasm throughout.
In particular, her stool-straddling Janus piano-playing is damn impressive, and a sly smile suggests she’s all too aware of its ability to drop jaws. Even an unfortunate blunder from the Concert Hall - leaving the PA playing Blondie during part of her set - doesn’t spark a diva tantrum, Amos either unaware of the distraction or unwilling to let it ruin tonight’s highlight, a solo Taxi Ride. Early favourites - Cornflake Girl, China - are drip-fed but Abnormally Attracted to Sin naturally dominates, with a fierce Strong Black Vine proving most memorable. The first few rows are on their feet and worshipping at her ankles before its last chord is struck, but even those less animate in their appreciation seem suitably impressed.
4/5 stars
(i've since heard that she's absolutely lovely in interview as well - i guess this pre-image i had of her as some stern ice-maiden was exaggerated from the time when she did in fact tell chatterboxes to leave the gig, or else wholly imaginary... it's nice to have false preconceptions righted)
You're Smiling Now But We'll All Turn Into Demons - Contact High Wit Da Demons (***)
The problem with naming your band You’re Smiling Now But We’ll All Turn Into Demons is that, even if you subsequently shorten it to ‘Demons’, you ain't leaving a word-strapped reviewer much space to write about the record. So I’ll be brief: fourth album Contact High Wit Da Demons is a continuation of the Portsmouth four-piece’s riff 'n' roll psych rock jams, and while proficient, its horizons are too narrow to turn the heads of anyone not frequently lug-deep in this kinda thing already. Lead track 2009’s title is a bit of a red herring - its raw feedback-drone, fret fiddling and drawled vocals sound anything but contemporary - but while you might have heard all of these sounds in roughly these shapes, Demons have managed to successfully squeeze a little more juice out of their vintage influences. A measured recommendation then, and with several words left to sp…
out september 21st
