Warning: if you’ve ever thought about topping yourself, give Philadelphia’s Greg Weeks a wide berth. And don’t be fooled by the jauntily titled ‘Funhouse’, which is about as much fun as a convention for manic depressives.
This collection represents punk rock at its punkest – raucous, exciting and deliberately rough around the edges. Do try this at home.
Bright and uplifting, with rising chorus’ and random shouts of joy over the top of Ben’s vocals, the ballad is played out with the kind of abandon that proves we all have a small amount of carefree youth in us these days, despite the winter gloom.
Though ‘Kids Aflame’ is unlikely to set the world alight, it packs enough of a spark to keep ardent music fans warm through the winter months.
I’m no expert by any stretch of the imagination, but as far as I’m aware, rapping is supposed to be a clever mixture of staccato yet fluent speech to some form of a tune. This didn’t quite constitute rapping, it was more sort of reading aloud.
The apparent unfounded tangential foray into the arena of modern and avant-folk has resulted in a whispered gem.
The ever wandering Mark Lanegan has his muse and may eventually rest his boots - but for now, Isobel Campbell is drawing the best out of him, whenever and wherever they meet.
You can keep Noddy Holder. For realists, atheists and piss-artists, this is Christmas.
This album isn’t just a piece of music to listen to casually – it’s a real experience that both demands and deserves to have time devoted to savouring every note. Proof, as if we ever needed it, that after all these years, Tony Christie has still got it in spades – and not a “sha-la-la” in sight.
The biggest shame however, isn’t that the track is complete bollocks, it’s that Leona Lewis has genuine talent, and it’s an almighty shame to see it squandered on this twaddle.
Recent Comments