Tag Archives: Music

First update in a while: 3 @oneminutebriefs victories to report

Thanks for bearing with me. I’ve been so busy – hardly finding time to update you.

I’ve even struggled to do as many @oneminutebriefs as I’d like.

However I do have 3 victories to report.

One is for shoes – “Goody” Two Shoes.

More interestingly, I won a brief requested by an actual company. That was particularly exciting. EarPeace chose my ‘Hear Today. Hear Tomorrow’ copy as the winner.

Wanna know the best thing about that? PRIZES.

And last but by no means least, my latest victory was for the Liam Fairhurst Foundation, a cancer charity requesting ads for use in newspapers etc. This was a really special brief and I am delighted to be able to add it to my list of wins.

A proper, longer one-minute version will be released ASAP so that the charity can use my idea. That will be produced in collaboration with my start-up advertising partnership, Coq&Tonic.

Check out our only other work so far here: http://www.behance.net/coqtonic

Hope you enjoy the ads.


Foals’ latest offering is less Holy Fire than damp squib

Unfortunately, after giving Holy Fire a good listen I don’t feel so much ignited with excitement, just a little burnt. 

Chances are, you’ve already heard the best of what Holy Fire has to offer. The stand-out songs on the record are the two released as singles; Inhaler, and My Number. The remainder is a tad monotonous, and a wee bit flat – containing some bright moments, but ultimately lacking the spark of Total Life Forever (TLF). 

Diagnosis? Despite trying hard, it lacks inventiveness. Prognosis? It doesn’t, nor will it ever, meet the high standards set by TLF. As an example, the exclusive playback of the album in a derelict mental asylum in Peckham, although intended as arty, was about as edgy as a drag on a candy cigarette.

Perhaps my analogy is a tad harsh, but it just seems lazy and a little complacent. Holy Fire is almost an amalgamation of the first and second records, Antidotes and TLF. The poppy synth-led rhythms combined with the more dulcet, haunting tones is somewhat akin to Duran Duran at a funeral. Those unfamiliar with the band wouldn’t be blamed if they thought Holy Fire was the bands second LP – some tracks are stale enough to be a TLF b-side.  

This, I believe, is the key issue. TLF was such a great record and Holy Fire fails to build on that and most certainly doesn’t surpass it. The expectation that came with Foals’ previous work has ultimately left me unsatisfied and disappointed. As an album, viewed in isolation, it’s not bad, but in TLF’s shadow it will remain.

However, even average albums have stand-out tracks, and as alluded to above, these come in the form of Inhaler, My Number, and one I haven’t mentioned, Providence. 

Inhaler genuinely was a breath of fresh air when it first received air-time. If this was where this record was heading I was preparing to book a one way ticket. Guitar distortion, strained quasi-screaming vocals, and even a quirky opening made the first single a tailor-made recipe for a promising new musical direction. If the rest of the album had even one iota of this unquantifiable resource, hell we’d have been on to something, really something.

Straight afterwards, My Number is a significant swerve in the road introduced by Inhaler. Funky and insanely catchy, this dance-y number has found a permanent residence in my head. This track is an invitation to the squat party in your cerebral cortex and will not only have you throwing shapes (I won’t be listening to it in the gym again…) but humming the tune. Alot – like a funky disease.

Providence is an intriguing fusion of soulful blues vocals and what sounds like the hangover of an Antidotes track. Think a math-rock Robert Johnson.Think Yannis Philipakis busking in the Mississippi Delta. This innovative blend of two polarised musical styles: the emotion-driven blues, and the patterns and rhythmic structures of math-rock, makes this one of the most exciting and refreshing tracks on the record.

So not all is lost, Holy Fire has some great tracks, yet largely it remains a disappointment. The three  mentioned above are as diverse, and as Foals-y as you’d like; the rest is just unimaginative polyfiller plugging the spaces in-between. The Foals fix we needed was a new and innovative remedy to a stagnant music library, not a repeat prescription to something we’re too used to.

For the published article at MouthLondon, please click here.

The Harlem Shake: The less-than-subtle art of “What the F*@K?”

Disorientating, perplexing and down right mindfuckery.

Something akin to humanity, worn down by the perpetual stress and pressures of modern society,  taking to the therapist’s couch, baring it’s bones and really opening up. Yeh, and then some. It’s the latest enigmatic Youtube phenomenon to leave you questioning your purpose in life – the Harlem Shake. Society’s mask of social acceptability has well and truly left the building.

You begin by observing the exploits of a dancing maverick; boogying alone, he exists framed by normality. One beat, and one blink, later the world as you know it has supernova’d into an orgy of unexplainables. I’m not even sure if “unexplainables” is a word, but I am certain real words struggle to describe what’s unfolding before your eyes.

After witnessing a horse breakdown in the burger aisle of Tesco’s, I thought I’d seen it all. But no:

I know what you’re thinking. That poor polar bear, sandwiched between the crotches of two men. But after several watches – for research purposes of course – I’m left questioning what’s grotesque and what’s normal. The world as you see it erupts into a socially gelatinous mass of, what looks like, people pretending to be a vibrating mobile phone on a flat surface, porn stars, or Elvis on performance enhancing drugs. The Harlem Shake is the magnet to mankind’s internal compass.

Ah, masturbation and milk. Of course, Harlem’s new definition of normal wouldn’t be complete without it. What was probably breakfast time before the “Shake” tookover, has descended into a cacophony of pimps, superheroes and yes, more sexual abuse of cuddly animals.

Shrooms? Acid? Other hallucinogens? Pah, not necessary. Imagine what seminal art The Beatles could have produced on the Harlem Shake? Stick this on a loop for a one way journey farther than Lucy’s sky full of diamonds. Hell, Lucy’s just a dot to you now.

What is truly mind-blowing (if you’ve got any left) is it’s versatility. Despite the common variables, all are completely different in tone, setting and bizarreness. From what happens when you divert a carnival into one single room (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cd8Fmh7nIrQ), to the result of someone supplying the wrong kind of medication at the old-folks home (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=siF0iQOm6wg), the Harlem Shake exhibits both everything wrong with humanity and everything that’s right – all at the same time.

This wildfire of the insane is well and truly catching, with some videos receiving stupidly high hits. In what is potentially a powerful boon to the interpretive dance community, the Harlem Shake connects with everyone on varying levels, even if that connection disconnects you further from reality. Like a lot of things on the internet, it takes very little skill, effort or time. Just a whole lot of fucked-up with a pinch of crazy is all that’s necessary for this art form.*

 *possibly also an underlying hatred of animals on a freudian level.    

 Find the published article here at Sabotage Times

Opposites: Contrary to some, Biffy are not heading in the wrong direction

Biffy Clyro’s Opposites exemplifies the Scottish rockers’ avant-garde credentials, without actually being overtly innovative or experimental – on the surface at least.

Despite reaching the number one spot, the band continue to attract vocal detractors amongst the chorus of praise. The fact that it reached the top spot is an indication, to some, of Biffy selling out or bowing to commercialism – continuation of the criticism following Biffy’s X-Factor-gate. You know them, the ones claiming to be Biffy’s number one fan by championing Blackened Sky, boasting about seeing them at the intimate King Tut’s Wah Wah Hut in Glasgow back in ’99 and questioning every other fan over the date they first heard the Biff. “Was it after Puzzle?” they ask with eager anticipation, ready to accuse you of bandwagoning following the success of their breakthrough album in 2007. Those are the guys accusing Biffy of selling out – distressed, disturbed and offended by their recent commercial success. It does lead one to question the definition of a true fan, the guy who heard them first, or the guy who continues to appreciate them no matter their level of success whilst they continue to produce records of a stellar quality?

If the bigoted proponents of the “I heard of them first” culture had their way, Opposites would have been a cheap imitation of Blackened Sky, Vertigo of Bliss or Infinity Land. But seriously, who wants that? Learn to appreciate what those records were, and move on. If Simon Neil and co. had reproduced the quirky grass-roots pre-Puzzle sound in the new record, the genuine fans would have been left with a cheap imitation that paled in comparison. With a band like Biffy, so much of their music’s soul comes from the bands experiences, in particular frontman Simon Neil’s state of mind. Quite simply, it would have been unrecognisable – the wizardry of those first albums is a dialect Biffy no longer speak. The magic’s moved on…

Admittedly on it’s first listen, Opposites, sounds decidedly more progressive and more polished – most probably down to the use of a luxury Los Angeles studio as opposed to a Scottish basement or garage. Yes, it may be less raw and visceral than previous releases, but it’s just as punchy and may be their catchiest yet. A personal favourite, “Sounds like Balloons,” has more hooks than a professional angler at the Carp Masters Fishing Competition. The ignorant among us would argue that Biffy aren’t about being catchy or melodic. But then again they probably worship Blackened Sky, essentially Scotland’s answer to a grunge record. Nirvana’s Kurt Cobain’s own personal mission was to fuse the best of the Beatles and Pixies. Grunge was as unembellished as it was melodic. Simon Neil’s tattoo of the In Utero angel is evidence enough that the Biff adopted this pattern earlier in their musical journey.

Now, unlike some, I was willing to accept Biffy’s progression, however after further listening it hits you. Biffy haven’t discarded their soul and inventiveness for a conveyor-belt record under pressure from their label. Not one bit. From the onomatopoeic a cappella “drips” of “Black Chandelier” to the unprecedented incorporation of a mariachi band in “Spanish Radio” playing in an alien 5-4 time signature, to the typically surreal lyrics, you are invited on a metaphysical odyssey of gargantuan sound, beautiful production and incredible ambition.

Opposites is a real investment of blood, sweat, tears and soul. It’s achievements sound-wise are equalled by the record’s underlying meaning. When it was revealed to the media that drummer, Ben had suffered from alcoholism and a waning interest in the band, the pervading themes of alienation and isolation reveal themselves as the prominent theme of The Land at the End of our Toes, the first of the two records. The album’s namesake “Opposite” stresses this sense of separation: “We are joined at the surface but nowhere else”. Also, the more metaphorical “A Girl and his Cat” pours out similar concerns: “This is your house this is not your home. I don’t know if we’re ever gonna belong”. The Sand at the Core of our Bones, the second album of Opposites, is a more optimistic response. “Woo Woo”’s, “We’ll start the journey home” plays tribute to the overcoming of their obstacles, the coming together of the band and the writing of a prolific double-record. Opposites is just as emotionally important as the likes of Puzzle (written in the aftermath of Simon Neil’s mothers death) and entertains the same conceptual gravitas.

If you are not convinced by Opposites, I implore you to listen again, immerse yourself and look a little deeper. Understand what they have done the same, what they have done differently, identify progression and appreciate the meaning. Don’t just write it off because it’s popular. It’s popular for a reason and testament to what Biffy Clyro deserve for this impressive and ambitious record.

For the published article at MouthLondon, click here.


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