Dig Out Your Soul by Oasis

Oasis were in many ways victims of post modernity. Their Smiths, Kinks and Beatles drenched music, defined 90’s Britain. But whilst this made them rock stars, it by no means made them masters of the craft. The Gallaghers emerged at a time when it had all been done, and more so than anyone, it was clear they could never achieve the greatness of their idols. In a desperate attempt to prove their worth and escape from the shadow of Wonderwall, Oasis fell deeper into mediocrity from album to album. With their most refreshing work in years, Dig Out Your Soul sees Oasis no longer fearful of their legacy, as they accept their limitations and produce a fantastic slice of British Rock.

The opener ‘Bag It Up’, with its delicious indulgence in slick, hard edged riffs and screeching melodies, makes it a glorious fanfare of a track. The good times continue to roll, with the infectious groove of ‘The Turning’ and the rock stomp of ‘Waiting for the Rapture’. Then with ‘(Get Off Your) High Horse Lady’ we see that Oasis have in many ways tamed everything that once dragged them down. This song has all the symptoms of their own brand of mediocrity; repetitive lyrics, simplistic riffs and a feeling the song is going absolutely nowhere, yet somehow all this has been brought into line. Even the notorious Gallagher vocal appears to have been tamed, as its place in the mix allows its hidden charm to emerge.

From the first strums of ‘The Shock of the Lightning’, its clear that this little number was born to be a single. Whilst such seemingly nonsensical lyrics as “Love is a time machine/Up on the silver screen”, suggest Noel will never surpass “Today is gonna be the day...” it is so irresistibly built for a sing-along, you really don’t care. Then comes the jewel that is ‘Falling Down’, which with its eloquent refrain “Falling down is all that I’ve ever known” has smacks of beauty, unparalleled by Noel’s recent output.

Surprise, surprise, Dig Out Your Soul isn’t a seminal piece, and the song writing contributions of Liam, guitarist Gem Archer and bassist Andy Bell all suggests that Noel is the only songwriter for the band. Liam’s piano ballad ‘I’m Outta Time’ is dripping with Lennon influence, however whilst this begins with strength, it soon fades into sub-par pastiche. However, whilst these efforts at no point rival Noel’s, the continuation of existing motifs and sounds within the album, create a sense of completion.

Dig Out Your Soul, despite being a triumph for the flailing rockers, is by no account their passage into greatness. This far into their career The Who had released Quadrophenia, and of course The Beatles had long since accomplished immortality and disbanded. However, if nothing else it remains an excellent album, which is enough to remind us why this quintet, represent everything that is great about the British rock tradition.

Off with Their Heads by Kaiser Chiefs

Off with Their Heads has been billed as the album to silence the critics and the non-believers. And hopes were high for the Leeds lads when ‘Never Miss a Beat’ flooded onto the radio. With its driving verse coupled with their trademark infectious chorus, which has flashes of Ruby’s anthemia yet is nowhere near as annoying, ‘Never Miss a Beat’ seemed to prove the Kaiser Chiefs’ worth. Unfortunately, the remaining ten songs that comprise the album reflect little of this early triumph.

Many a critic has praised the Kaiser Chiefs for being one of the few British indie bands, who have the chutzpah to be political. The title of the album alone implies a certain political angst, and sure enough we see the Kaisers enraged at our apathetic youth, however their political writing runs about as deep as ‘American Idiot’. Such lyrics as “What do you want for tea? I want crisps” sees Ricky and co. simply restating the common opinion as opposed to providing a deeper or unique standpoint. Whilst this may qualify as political writing in 2008, compare it to a Dylan standard and the limits of their statements are obvious. Sadly to say, such transparent political comment continues, and on the self explanatory ‘Half the Truth’ the KC’s even succumb to Bush bashing, which with the growing Obama mania, is decreasingly valid and incredibly tiresome.

The choice of Mark Ronson as producer must have made their publicist’s year, however his work on the album is predictably disappointing. Ronson’s production shows all the hallmarks of a celebrity producer. Whilst he provides the retro sensibilities we have come to expect, he fails in taking far too few risks. The string arrangement added over the dull ‘Like It Too Much’, sees the Anglo-American button pusher flex his orchestral muscle, but with very little success. Not to attack the insufferable bore that is Mark Ronson, but it would seem that a trained monkey could have produced a similar result.

The material is by no means terrible; tracks such as ‘Spanish Metal’ even have flashes of brilliance, but any promise these songs show, is soon extinguished by a lack-lustre chorus or a droning middle eight. The Lennonesque closer ‘Remember You’re a Girl’, sung by drummer Nick Hodgson, is indicative of the effect the album has on the listener: This song simply washes over you, leaving more questions than answers.

This remains a solid Kaiser Chiefs work, but Off with Theirs Heads sees them take one step forward and six steps back. Their energy is undeniable but even this has been caged at times by mediocre song composition and Ronson’s sedate touch. Whilst in an attempt to be more overtly political, the KC’s sacrifice fun for a supposed greater meaning. So if it isn’t fun and its fails at being political, one has to wonder; what purpose does it serve? Off with Theirs Heads is sure to please fans eager for another taste of Kaiserdom, but it is unlikely that this will be the album to convert the non-believers.

Everything is Borrowed by The Streets

After the runaway success of 2004’s A Grand Don’t Come for Free and 2006’s The Hardest Way To Make An Easy Living, local city poet Mike Skinner, was doomed to follow in the tragic footsteps of so many artists before him. This pattern begins with your gritty debut, then comes the rise to stardom and finally the release of an ‘album that means something’. A shudder must have run down the spine of every right-minded Streets fan, when the words “This album started off life as parables” spilled onto Skinner’s Myspace page, and sure enough Everything is Borrowed is his painfully over thought attempt at profundity.

Don’t get me wrong; I have nothing against the brummy boy rapper. His dry mockney wit paired with harsh danceable beats was once a lethal combination, but now it seems he has taken the label ‘urban poet’ far too seriously. Everything is Borrowed reflects Skinner’s fatal misconception; he now thinks he is qualified to comment on such topics as faith, suicide and the fate of humanity.

This latest album sees Skinner joining the ranks of aging rappers, who have attempted to breathe new life into their established style, by replacing brash beats and bass with big band brass and elaborate arrangements. The opening title track is reminiscent of Jay-Z’s ‘Izzo’, but where there should be slick rhymes and smoother-than-butter bravado, there is Skinner’s monotone drawl. Whilst his change in backing is admirable, it does draw out the inadequacies of his writing and delivery.

One group this album is sure to please is those who have despised The Streets from day one. Those who found his legendary status as a great pop writer laughable, have plenty of evidence to support this view within the words of Everything is Borrowed. In his attempts to make a more focused and socially valid work, Skinner finds himself making broad sweeping statements, using the most clichéd imagery imaginable. ‘The Way of the Dodo’ is a prize example, which is so ineffective that it becomes very difficult to believe that this song about global warming is at all sincere.

There is some solace to be found in the more danceable tracks, which hark back to his prime. ‘Never Give In’ with it’s funky bass line and chorus “I’ll never give in ‘till your laying with me/ You may as well tell me when that day will be”, sounds like he got slap bass lessons and a rhyming dictionary for Christmas, but it is nevertheless enjoyable. The likes of ‘The Sherry End’ and ‘Alleged Legends’ are further successes and the closing track ‘The Escapist’, reminds us of what made The Streets such a phenomenon in the first place. This song with all its orchestral splendour really shouldn’t work alongside the vocal, yet somehow it does.

Skinner has announced that he is “fucking sick” of all that is expected and associated with ‘The Streets’, as he has repeatedly said the next album will be his last under his famed alter ego. Whilst this is surely not what he meant, it seems that the expectation for him to be the poet he is so often labelled, has indeed been detrimental. The music is powerful, and at times exquisite but the lyrical content suggests delusions of grandeur. If there is indeed a message behind Everything is Borrowed it is this: don’t believe your own hype and under no circumstances rhyme jets with best.

Modern Guilt by Beck

This review has been published by the London Magazine Spiked. To read it go to:
http://www.spiked-online.com/index.php?/site/article/5691/

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For a musical chameleon who has tackled every genre from bluegrass to rap, coming up with a new sound for Beck’s umpteenth album was going to be tricky. Teaming up with Gnarls Barkley’s Danger Mouse (aka Brian Burton), Modern Guilt is an album that shows a more mature Beck Hansen who sings about climate change and refugees as opposed to jack-asses and soul suckin’ jerks. Whilst this isn’t what made us fall head over heels for the slacker kid back in ‘94, it’s certainly enough to remind us why he’s still the coolest Scientologist in music.