Song Of The Day 27: Rose Elinor Dougall – Start/Stop/Synchro

The Pipettes are close to unveiling the video for their new single – which is a decent enough song – on the world and, by rights, I should be really excited. I’m certainly keen to hear the album, but my enthusiasms have crept elsewhere. Namely, to former Pipette, Rose Elinor Dougall, who aforementioned string of wonderful singles were recently collated on a Japanese (where else?) mini album. Her debut album proper is on its way soon and that’s a record I’m genuinely excited about hearing. This is a fine example of why I’m so keen to hear it. (Spot the unfortunate typo in the surname of this upload!)

Song Of The Day 26: Massive Attack – Girl I Love You

There will be a little more FUTUREMUSIC musing to follow soon, but the artist profiles having concluded, it’s time to return to the daily dose of musical delight. Massive Attack’s new album, ‘Heligoland’, was released today, with a deluxe triple-vinyl jobbie following in two weeks for those of us who are so inclined. It’s a superb album and anyone who says it’s just more of the same or whines on about how it’s not another ‘Blue Lines’ or not another ‘Mezzanine’ needs a slap. Obviously, it’s not another ‘100th Window’, as you’ll want to listen to it lots. Speaking of which, I’ve decided to do my first almost unwilling ‘A Week With’ based on ‘100th Window’, so you can see if a revisit is really in order at the weekend.

‘Heligoland’, on the other hand, is a wonderful set of ten compelling songs. ‘Pray For Rain’ and ‘Splitting The Atom’ will be familiar to those who bought the EP in Autumn last year and both still sound just as good. The track featuring Damon Albarn, ‘Saturday Come Slow’, is epic in the Massive sense of the word, the tortured rendering of the phrase ‘do you love me?’ is genuinely affecting. Suffice to say, the whole record is great and rewards repeated listens, either at full volume or via the headphones – either way will leave you in no doubt. With that in mind, here’s my current favourite track. Slightly lazy reviewers have been branding it the cousin or brother of ‘Angel’ – presumably because it has a brooding bassline and it features Horace Andy. Beyond that, the comparison is pretty vacuous and suggests that the deadlines for their pieces were sooner than they’d thought and some space needed filling. It is, however, an enormous track, capturing much of what makes Massive Attack so very, very special. Treat yourself below or stream it here. Click here to order the precioussss vinyl edition.

A Week With… 6. Portishead – Dummy

The first thing that strikes me is how normal it sounds now. We’ve had ‘Third’, ‘Mezzanine’ and ‘The Drift’ since this album first appeared. What once seemed like claustrophobic malevolence on a whole new scale is now more likely to be regarded as simply some nifty production. Which, let’s not be unduly revisionist here, this album has in spades. ‘Dummy’ is still a wonderful listen and it has retained the power to be genuinely emotionally affecting. When that head rattling beat drops out briefly during ‘Strangers’ and you hear tiny elements of the horn refrain and get a real-time sense of the artist pausing for thought it still sounds just as fresh and, frankly, clever as it did the best part of sixteen years ago. Whether my critical faculties were sufficiently honed back then to notice the potential connotations of certain breakdowns, I can’t really say, but listening now it does feel like an album that has been stapled onto my life and which has essentially always been there.

‘It Could Be Sweet’ was typical, late-night This Life fare, and rewatching the whole lot recently I’ve noticed this album popping up more than most. It was how, for a couple of years at least, ‘Dummy’ came to be defined. It was the tasteful, trendy dinner-party album of choice. It was lauded all over the music press from the exuberant under-achievers at Melody Maker through to the professionally pensive types who wrote broadsheet reviews in the mid-nineties. Even now, this strikes me as slightly strange because I also remember some of the confusion that greeted this album. A regularly offered-up comment from Geoff Barrow perhaps summarises this most succinctly. “At the time, some people took ‘Dummy’ back to Woolworths because it had scratches on it – everyone thought that was odd when they first heard it.”

The fact that ‘Dummy’ didn’t entirely fit was what made it great. DJ Shadow’s ‘Entroducing’ was still a couple of years away and the UK was caught somewhere between Suede and Oasis as Portishead first asserted themselves as part of the music scene. We were four months on from the moment when Kurt Cobain famously proved that the lyrics to ‘Come As You Are’ truly were a lie and the emphasis was on pretty much anything lively. By the time their second album, ‘Portishead’, appeared, they were on the receiving end of some criticism for still sounding like, well, Portishead. A churlish response to a quite beautiful set of songs, surely? Ultimately, yes, but so utterly omnipresent had ‘Dummy’ become that almost everybody felt like they knew the band’s ‘sound’ by this point and so, an album that is the equal of this wonderful debut, was not quite as steeped in praise as it should have been. The subsequent ‘Roseland NYC Live’ record cast these songs on a grander scale and is an essential album in my book, containing in ‘Roads’ one of the finest examples of recorded silence I think I’ve ever heard. You’ll know what I mean next time you play it.

Speaking of ‘Roads’, there was no tailing off of quality on the second side of ‘Dummy’. ‘Numb’ continued the impressive run of intense, hard-edged beat-laden wails, while ‘Roads’ pushed an awful lot of people towards tears during their weaker moments. It is a truly classic song and a fine example of a band knowing when to go all-out and when to keep things very simple. The added strings and rippling guitar for the second verse are masterfully understated and the way in which the song never seems more than a second or two away from returning to the isolation of the stark and bristling piano refrain ensures a fine balance between hope and despair. It’s a song that sounds mesmerising taken on its own, but it’s absolutely flooring in the context of the rest of the record.

‘Pedestal’ is a track I feel I know less well than the rest of the record. Presumably this has something to do with it following the exceptional ‘Roads’ and my inability to move on immediately from that particular piece of music. Both ‘Pedestal’ and ‘Biscuit’ feature what might be described as intoxicated beats slurring their way across the tracks. This is emphasised on the latter of those two tracks by the repeated and slowed refrain, ‘I’ll never fall in love again’ sinking gradually into the music. Again, I suspect my mild amnesia regarding this small part of the album is further enhanced by the way it ends. Ok, so ‘Glory Box’ became the Portishead snapshot that got a bunk-up with every compilation in the land until sometime in the middle of 1996 and you heard it pretty much everywhere. Doesn’t stop it being great though, does it? With the benefit of time having passed it now sounds, quite simply, like a wonderfully dark soul song. As with so much of this record, it has its roots firmly planted in the smoulderingly wounded deep soul sounds of the late sixties and seventies. Forget the fondness for cleverly manipulated beats and intricately sewn samples and you’re left with a new take on old soul. And it’s pretty much perfect.

Things have never been simple when it comes to Portishead and writing from February 2010, a time when we all know that the band are even less prolific than Massive Attack, it’s still a little odd to think that there have only been two further studio albums since this phenomenal debut. ‘Third’ avoided all of the criticisms levelled at their second album by sounding unlike anything you’d actually heard before, bar industrial drilling equipment and nightmares, and was another fine addition to their minimal output. Hearing ‘Dummy’ again this week has been a real pleasure and it makes for an interesting listen shorn of all of the media associations it carried with it for so long.

Futuremusic 2010: A Little Bit Of Soul

Sixties girl group pop is rightly revered by many music fans. It’s overtly saccharine, almost disarmingly chirpy and always sounds loud, no matter what volume you have it on at and yet it just makes you feel good. Just like proper pop music should. A few years ago, it looked like we were on the cusp of a whole glut of acts adopting this sound and it was genuinely rather exciting. But things seemed to fizzle out a little and of the two most promising groups, The Pipettes fizzled out and had almost as many line-up changes as the Sugababes, while Lucky Soul didn’t quite capture the public’s hearts in the way I had rather hoped they would. ‘One Kiss Don’t Make A Summer’, from their debut, ‘The Great Unwanted’, was a compilation perennial for me for some twelve months after if first appeared and is as joyous a slice of pop as you’re likely to hear any time soon. Come the start of April and their second album, ‘A Coming Of Age’, will be released and it’s a likely contender for the end of year lists. As a result of its release date getting pushed back a bit, I’ve been listening to this record since November and I happy to report that it is somehow both immediate and a grower.

That Sixties stomp is still there but the songs themselves are much stronger, resulting in a consistently delightful listen. Recent single ‘White Russian Doll’ a fair representation of the more upbeat numbers on ‘A Coming Of Age’, opener ‘Woah Billy!’ possibly just topping it for sheer exuberance. Singer Ali Howard has an absolutely adorable voice, knowing exactly when to go through the gears and when to rein herself in. It would be grossly unfair on those four blokes above with nice hair to say that it is Howard’s voice that makes this band truly exceptional – the music more than plays its part – but her pipes make her one of my very favourite contemporary singers and her performance on this record is, at times, breathtaking.

The pop influence shares the billing with some luscious, 70s singer-songwritery sounds like ‘Warm Water’ and the euphoric swing of ‘Southern Melancholy’. Add in the full blown country work out of ‘Love³’ and the sway-a-long splendour of ‘Upon Hilly Fields’ and you have a complex collection of emphatically ‘up’ classic pop.

Don’t think it’s only the music that makes this one to soundtrack the not especially sun kissed summer days. There are some disarmingly honest lyrics across the twelve tracks on ‘A Coming Of Age’, along with evidence of a bitingly sharp sense of humour. If ‘some say I’m schizophrenic, but I walk in single file’ is bettered this year, I’ll be surprised. Straddling, as they do, the worlds of indie and vintage pop, it’s hard to imagine this album sitting comfortably on the supermarket shelves alongside the usual suspects but I can’t help thinking that if more people heard these wonderful songs, the success they deserve wouldn’t be all that far behind. As it is, I’ve no idea how the album will do, but I do know that I will cherish every last note on it and if it’s not in my Top 20 list at the end of the year, feel free to call me a slightly naughty name. I’ll deserve it.

Futuremusic 2010: A Little More Lively

A new indie band is born every six seconds. The midwife squeezes them all into skinny jeans, combs their hair to make them look like right twats and teaches them how to look at a camera as if they’ve got lemon juice in their right eye. After a quick lesson in rudimentary instrument technique, they are provided with their required reading list and a small selection of ‘classic’ records and sent off to become interesting. And, the majority of these largely tedious arseholes get nowhere. Thank fuck for that, eh? Thankfully, it still seems like the good stuff can rise to the top, even if the people at the top have jizzed all their money away on promoting greatest hits albums by former reality TV show contestants who only had half a dozen hits in the first place and now can’t really afford to do much for new bands.

Frankie & The Heartstrings have not only risen out of the self-castrating trouser pool, but have recently put out a single of Rough Trade and seem to be drawing attention to themselves rather effectively. I recently posted the A side of that debut 7” as part of the Song Of The Day feature after reading a wonderful interview with them in the NME. I know I shouldn’t really recycle content, but I’d swiped it from that NME interview in the first place, so I don’t think I ever had the moral high ground. It was this comment, from drummer Dave Harper, which drew me in: “I could walk 50 yards from here and find 10 musicians who are a million times better than us, but fuck me they’re boring. There’ll be a band in Newcastle one of these days with so many fucking delay pedals you’ll have to stand in Hartlepool to hear them.” If there’s one thing Frankie & The Heartstrings are not, it’s boring.

From the ‘fuck it, let’s dance’ school of indie pop, they already some splendidly chaotic tunes to their name and I don’t doubt that they are capable of delivering a debut album to cherish. They’re not big but they are clever; Harper’s blog posts are capable of raising a smile from a manically depressed, long-term unemployed undertaker. Their own PopSexLtd imprint awards catalogue numbers to things with almost as much reckless abandon as Factory Records – the latest ‘release’ appears to be a drumstick. You can, however, download odds and sods, enter draws for gig tickets or plead for copies of incredibly rare mixtapes if you’re beady-eyed and a frequent enough visitor.

I would recommend grabbing yourself a copy of their self-released, six track live EP from the arse end of last year which comes in a tote bag with a fanzine, badges, a postcard and, an actual 10” piece of vinyl. It’s chaotic, it’s ramshackle and it’s the most fun I’ve had listening to an early recording of a promising new band since the Arctic Monkeys appeared. And I don’t think I liked them as much as this lot. There’s a bit of Roxy Music in the wavering vocal but also the astute, razor sharp pop sensibilities of Franz Ferdinand at times. Add in a bit of the early 90s navel-gazing, tinny indie ‘sound’ and you’ve really got something worth your attention. These delightfully generous chaps are actually happy giving away their music and if you go to their Myspace you’ll find an email address from which to request some music. It works! If you’re after either the live 10” or the debut single, I wouldn’t hang around: they’ll not be around for long. Unlike the band, I suspect.

Futuremusic 2010: Ever onwards

Train journeys are tricky things to soundtrack. A lot of it hinges on the weather and the accompanying view. If, in addition to this, you’re bloody knackered then this also has a pretty crucial bearing on this. I tend to gravitate towards the more acoustic end of my collection when in these situations, despite the fact that quieter music doesn’t tend to fare all that well when put up against the many and varied noises emanating from most of the East Midlands Trains stock. Still, I endeavour to find that precise sound that will fit.

Kris Drever’s music deserves to soundtrack those deeply intimate, private moments when your eyes lock on to something arbitrary in the middle distance and your brain switches to somewhere between autopilot and shuffle, churning out random thoughts, one after another, spring cleaning through the humdrum detritus that builds up over the course of an average day. The musical accompaniment needs a voice which sounds suitably lived-in, a voice which is actually singing the words rather than raspy talking or laconic drawls and a voice which can transport you just as much as the train in which you sit. Drever is absolutely the man for the job.

I came to his first album entirely by chance. It was put out by Reveal Records, the label which grew out of the excellent, but now deceased, independent record shop of the same name in Derby. As I’ve mentioned previously, I would frequently pick up those early releases on the label simply on the basis that I knew Tom, shop and label boss, wasn’t likely to be trying to shift something that wasn’t up to scratch. The fact that the vinyl came with a free CD was the clincher and I soon found myself listening to ‘Black Water’ at fairly regular intervals. I recently deployed ‘Honk Toot’ as a Song Of The Day and it’s that track which really caught my attention and drew me into the record further. It is, as I said a week or so ago, 21st century music that happens to use traditional sounds rather than traditional music trying to sound contemporary. The recordings are completely uncluttered and sympathetic to the attentive ear.

Drever’s particular gift comes in term of the arrangement, not actually writing all that much of the material on either of his two albums. Whether reimagining old folk numbers of putting his stamp on the work of friends and label mates like Boo Hewerdine, Drever’s performances are imbued with a true spirit and passion, ensuring that once his music has clicked with you, it’s hard not to feel a little protective of this beautiful secret you have. His new album, ‘Mark The Hard Earth’ picks up where ‘Black Water’ left off, filling out the sound a little without overcomplicating matters and offering some more assured vocal performances after the tentative steps of that debut release.

On top of all of this, Drever is also a member of increasingly revered – and rightly so – folk group Lau, who only two days ago received the Best Group award for the third year running at the BBC Radio 2 Folk Awards. Their music, while different to these solo recordings, is a logical step for anyone sold on ‘Black Water’ or ‘Mark The Hard Earth’. I should also quickly mention the album he released along with Roddy Woomble from Idlewild and John McCusker, Drever’s producer. Going by the name of Drever, McCusker, Woomble (I know, inspired) they released ‘Before The Ruin’ back in September of 2008. It slipped by unnoticed but it’s yet another cracking record worthy of your attention.

Having said all of that, this piece is about Kris Drever’s solo work and, with ‘Mark The Hard Earth’ out next month, I wouldn’t be at all surprised if you end reading rather more about him in the coming weeks. Pick up the debut for a very reasonable price direct from the source and get your iPod kitted out ready for your next experience traversing the country by rail. I should point out, his music works with other forms of transport too. And at home, obviously.

Spotify – ‘Black Water’

Advance copies of ‘Mark The Hard Earth’ available here while stocks last.

Futuremusic 2010 – Day Two

Five songs, that’s all I’m basing this on. And one of them is forty seconds long. So, we’ll say four, really. But what magic is contained within those four songs. Under Alien Skies are two lads, David and Danny from Prestatyn in Wales. That’s about all I know at this stage and their minimal web presence isn’t much help when trying to find out a bit more about them. Which just leaves the music on the ‘Powder‘ EP for me to talk about.

Fans of the spaced-out, dubby wall of sound style backdrops so beloved of everyone from Animal Collective to Grizzly Bear of late, will likely take to this instantly. Opening track ‘Fyodor’ almost oozes through the speakers, so ‘big’ is its sound. Judicious application of echo makes it feel like you’re lost somewhere deep in the middle of the song itself and yet the vocal, a precisely enunciated croon, is crisp as you like atop this aural tapestry. This really wouldn’t have sounded out of place on ‘Veckatimest’, and not only that, it would have been one of the finer moments on the record. Insane hyperbole though this may seem, it really is that good.

‘Bloodsport’ sounds, at least in part, like Animal Collective after they’ve been introduced to the idea of verses in songs. Ludicrous degrees of repetition are avoided and, instead, the track goes through several phases, gradually slowing to cascading harmonies over a stuttering beat and little bleepy computer noises. It’s a luscious end to the song and it’s made to seem all the more dreamy and delicate by the whirling, careering, largely instrumental closing track, ‘Amine’, the danciest (yeah, I know, but a better word currently escapes me) thing on the EP.

Thoroughly nice bloke and underrated radio broadcaster of great quality, Adam Walton was the one to tip me off about this lot and he wrote an impassioned and possibly even more excited piece about this EP on his BBC Wales music blog in early January. His particular favourite track is ‘Cracks’, by far the most schizophrenic song of theirs I’ve heard. It starts off sounding like two different songs playing at once before gradually coalescing into a curiously mournful sound. Imagine the Beach Boys having to record their vocals just after watching their cat get knocked over by a passing driver and you’ll be somewhere close. Add in a twirling Spanish guitar sound and you don’t know whether to smile or cry. As the music gradually retreats, you’re left with the sounds of nature and a high-pitched loop slowly ascending to a better place. I think ‘Fyodor’ just about edges it for me, but I hear why Adam was so immediately head over heels with it. Even the forty second piece, ‘Caller ID’ is a strangely swelling piano interlude, maintaining the atmosphere and further diversifying the sound of this almost impossible to categorise EP.

I await even greater things from this lot. They’re not, as far as I’m aware, even signed up yet and their aforementioned scant internet presence makes it tricky to get a handle on exactly what we can expect from them and when. You can download the EP for free by clicking through from the picture above, where they’ve posted a link on their Twitter page. I cannot emphasise how enough how much I urge you to do that. It’ll be some of the most intriguing, engaging and frankly different music you’ve heard in some time.

Futuremusic 2010 – More New Music

I’m already slightly giddy about the amount of wonderful new music arriving in 2010 and we’ve only just finished the first month. As a result, here’s 2010’s first burst of Futuremusic, which long-time readers will remember was a series of features on exciting new stuff that ran in August of last year. Five more tremendous purveyors of musical goodness who haven’t quite snuck above the radar coming up, some of which I would imagine you’ll be familiar with, others less so. So, without further ado…

Gene spent much of their career trying to shrug of the tag of ‘Smiths copyists’, a label which I never quite understood. Certainly, there were occasional musical echoes and Martin Rossiter did manipulate and molest his vocal chords into certain Moz-like directions from time to time, but I always felt there was a not inconsiderable bit of The Jam in there as well and I couldn’t really grasp why it was The Smiths that the press was always so keen to bang on about. Not that it should really have been a hindrance. The Smiths were fucking marvellous and the enduring appeal of those albums is proof enough that their influence on music lovers the world over is considerable. What exactly would be so bad about sounding like The Smiths anyway?

So think Northern Portrait. The band name could be a wry wink in that direction, as many of their, frankly wonderful, songs display a sizeable love of all things Morrissey and Marr, but for the fact that they claimed in an interview last summer to have only recently heard of The Smiths. I bow down before Gideon Coe for this one. One evening in the summer of 2008, I was listening to his peerless 6music late show when he played a track from the band’s ‘Fallen Aristocracy’ EP. I remember thinking, ‘sounds a bit Smithsy, I’d like to hear that again’. Within fifteen minutes, I’d sent a pifflingly small amount of money via Paypal to US-based Matinee Recordings. Soon after, the CD arrived, delivering on that early promise with four wonderful indie-pop tunes contained within artwork which even had that mid-Eighties indie release feel to it. I was in for the long haul and kept an eye on the Matinee site, waiting for another EP. ‘Napoleon Sweetheart’ followed and a similar approach was adopted – dated sleeve and jangly indie of the highest order.

This Danish band have a finely honed sound and, as is so often the case with debut albums, they’ve whittled down their early songs to the very best they have to offer and have just released them for the world to pass judgement. Or just have a little listen. You really should. Second track, ‘When Goodness Falls’ highlights the Moz influence with the gloriously embittered lyric, “I’m so glad to disappoint you”, bouncing along with shimmering guitar lines which leave you pondering just how charming the man singing really is. Do you see what I did there? Do you? Ok, I’ll stop now.

The album in question will be available in the UK from March, but you can already order it direct from Matinee Recordings at a very reasonable price and I can’t think of any reason not to. Its title, ‘Criminal Art Lovers’, could be taken as a further acknowledgement of the heavy debt their music owes to various musical forefathers and the title track has a hint of Just Played faves, Trashcan Sinatras about it, while ‘Life Returns To Normal’ brings to mind a slightly subdued Housemartins. You must be sold by now, surely?

‘Crazy’ was on that first EP I ordered after Gideon’s airplay and it sounds glorious, sandwiched within all of this new material. Indeed, along with a couple of other tracks on ‘Criminal Art Lovers’, it also brings to mind the aforementioned Mr Rossiter. Oh, the irony, a Smithsy band who actually sound really rather like Gene. ‘The Operation Worked But The Patient Died’ is another title that Steven Patrick Morrissey would be ever so charmed by, but the musical affectations on this one definitely evoke Gene from their epic, ‘Drawn To The Deep End’ phase. No bad thing again.

Album closer, ‘New Favourite Moment’, is a wonderfully catchy way to wrap things up and if you don’t find yourself singing along with it soon after its first play then you have clearly lost the ability to enjoy yourself. In fact, I’d go so far as to say that if you can’t find something to like in this song then I’m not sure we can ever truly be friends. In truth, the entire album is littered with hooks and I’m struggling to think of a duff song to mention in the well-it’s-not-perfect-bit-before-I-wrap-things-up-on-a-positive-note section. The album’s mastered quite loud. That’s about the only thing I can think of to moan about right now.

I’ve thoroughly enjoyed explaining why I love this band. I’ve recently written a brief review of the record for publication in March in which I overplayed the comparisons with The Smiths in order to hammer home the point, but there’s plenty more going on in these songs and if even one person clicks through from this site to order the album after reading these words, I’ll be chuffed. Literate, emotive indie is often hard to find and when another band pop up delivering captivating songs to such a high standard it’s cause for celebration.

The good folk at Matinee Records are happy for me to share a couple of songs from the record with you, so treat yourself by right clicking and saving from these two links.

Northern Portrait – New Favourite Moment

Northern Portrait – Criminal Art Lovers

And now, thoroughly convinced as I’m sure you are, click here to purchase the album, and the early EPs if you’re so inclined, direct from Matinee.

A Week With… 5. Lawrence Arabia – Chant Darling

I’ve never had a problem with artists wearing their influences on their sleeves. Provided they’ve come up with something new and exciting, I don’t really care if part of that sound harks back a little to the work of The Beatles or Beach Boys. Those acts don’t have a copyright on ‘ooooh-ooooh’ harmonies and falsetto choruses.

All of which is rather lucky, as ‘Chant Master’ flags up those very influences on a number of occasions. James Milne, the rather more successfully Google-able real name of ‘Lawrence Arabia’, clearly takes his songwriting very seriously and has crafted ten beautiful pieces of music. Melody and harmony come before everything else, and if you like your guitar music to have a perfect mix of jangle and wistful reminiscence then you will find much to love about ‘Chant Darling’.

‘Apple Pie Bed’ has a swooping falsetto chorus that will lay siege to your every waking moment, while ‘Fine Old Friends’ has a ridiculously huge guitar line which is near impossible to air guitar along too satisfactorily, but you’ll try anyway. The Sixites and early-Seventies sounds are fairly prominent, ranging for classic upbeat indie-pop through the more soulful sound of ‘I’ve Smoked Too Much’ and on into the more intricately layered textures of ‘The Beautiful Young Crew’ and yet the whole thing holds together perfectly, coasting along on a wave of irresistible exuberance.

Whether you like your melodies sweet and honed a la Neil Finn or rough around the edges and careering along with rare aplomb in a similar fashion to Jens Lekman or Sondre Lerche, it’s hard to imagine you not being pretty satisfied with the ten little gems on offer her. Bella Union are fast becoming invincible and I’m almost at the stage now where the fact that an album’s coming out on that label means I’ll buy it. Along with ‘Chant Darling’, they’ve already released the gorgeous Laura Veirs record, ‘July Flame’ and Beach House’s genuinely rather special, ‘Teen Dream’, this year, with Midlake’s new one about to enter the world. The Kissaway Trail’s new record, ‘Sleep Mountain’, follows in March and fans of Arcade Fire’s ‘Funeral’ can start getting excited about that one now. It used to be Secretly Canadian who I may as well have had a standing order with, but I can feel my loyalties shifting. Buy all the others I mentioned too, but start with ‘Chant Darling’; it’s a heartening and joyous record, perfectly designed as a lullaby to help you sleep off the rest of this biting winter.

(A free download of the aforementioned ‘The Beautiful Young Crew’ is available from the Bella Union site here)

Song Of The Day 25: Beth Orton – Live As You Dream

Quite why Beth Orton isn’t at least a bit more famous than she is, is beyond me. Her debut album, ‘Trailer Park’, landed right in the midst of the Britpop/Electronica scene to which it was ideally suited and yet it never quite took off. The follow-up, the elegant and really rather well-structured ‘Central Reservation’, which leant more towards the folk influence than the electronic sounds that had been so well combined on the debut, contains some of her best work but still it only sold, well, reasonably. By the time ‘Daybreaker’ appeared, it appeared to only be playing to the previously converted. The delicious ‘Comfort Of Strangers’, as charmingly basic and organic a sounding as I’ve heard in a long, long time, was a thoroughly endearing left-turn and an effective ‘I’m never going to sell millions so I’ll do exactly what I want’ kind of gesture and it remains one of my favourite albums, hence its recent showing in 40 From The Noughties.

Here’s one of her jauntier numbers from her debut, as it’s the weekend and all that. If she’s an artist you’ve never spent much time with, click here to explore her catalogue on Spotify or you could even take a punt on her very reasonably priced back catalogue from your local music emporium. You’ll not be disappointed.