The last This Is The Kit album was very much my kind of thing. ‘Off Off On’ conveyed, projected and explored an atmosphere that sat perfectly in 2020. I interviewed leader Kate Stables about it for Clash and she was hugely genial Zoom company, so utterly absorbed in her work that the irresistibly enveloping quality of the music made complete sense. Her band’s new record, ‘Careful Of Your Keepers’ has been produced by Gruff Rhys and sounds sensational. The title track opens like a slightly more robust ‘Spirit Of Eden’ Talk Talk and evolves with such breathtaking precision that I still keep finding new things in it with every listen. It’s a fine way in to a very special album indeed.
Jenny Lewis is back! That news cost me £26. I know we’re supposed to sample things these days and see if it’s worth a punt but when has she ever let us down? ‘Joy’all’ was released on Friday via Blue Note, with a striking cover and just over half an hour of belting tunes. From the second ‘Psychos’ gets going, the robust, rhythmic country-pop niche is rebooted with class. She just knows how to structure songs. Sample the backing vocals on that opener, listen to the percussive introduction to the title track and gasp at the beguiling construction of layers in the short but perfectly formed ‘Cherry Baby’. So, so wonderful to have a new solo effort.
I’ll be honest. The thought of an album built around orchestral re-workings of vintage tracks was not an especially thrilling prospect. Just ask U2. However, James seem to have beaten the odds with ‘Be Opened By The Wonderful’. Of course, it doesn’t all work, but it’s a surprisingly effective way to knit together highlights from their sizeable back catalogue. I have always loved ‘She’s A Star’ from 1997’s ‘Whiplash’, largely because of its superb chorus, and there is a pure beauty about how it is rendered in this reading. Tim Booth’s vocal is, frankly, lovely and I was surprised to find myself quite so moved by it. A quick nod to the tremendously arranged version of ‘Say Something’ too. I’m far from the band’s biggest fan, but this is a very well sequenced, carefully considered project.
Misc-Cogs
Shake your phone when in the Discogs app for a random selection from your collection. That’s what I do each week for this bit.
Oh, this hurts. I’m still not sure I’m ready to deal with the collision of emotions prompted by the still raw, tragic recent loss of Mimi Parker and a particular track on this lesser-known EP. I had really liked Low for some time when I fell truly head-over-heels for 2011’s ‘C’Mon’. That record remains one of my all time favourites and it was during a show at the Royal Festival Hall in 2012 that they performed a version of ‘Hand So Small’ that is - and will remain - one of my most cherished live music experiences ever. If you’re familiar this remarkable band, you’ll know the quite incredible, intangible alchemy that was the intertwining of Mimi’s voice with her husband, Alan Sparhawk.
Sometimes, physically witnessing the pure beauty of certain vocals and instruments in unison can prompt an overwhelming but viscerally addictive sensory overload. The way we are wired leaves us wide open to these emotive detonations that have the impact of a hundred endorphin rushes, a shimmering, electric Catherine wheel of joy at being alive and present for that moment. I’ve been lucky to have had a few of those, but none have left their aftershock quite so profoundly as those three minutes on the South Bank. I wept, I grinned and I desperately, desperately tried to drink it all in.
I bought the EP from which it came, ‘Bombscare’ in collaboration with Spring Heel Jack, almost immediately and that song has been very dear to me ever since. And then we lost Mimi. I still struggle to believe we’ll never hear another new record from Low. I occasionally look over some of their latter day curios and find it hard to bear that they covered ‘Let’s Stay Together’ and Rhianna’s ‘Stay’. Sure, there’s plenty of retrospective meaning being applied there, but it’s almost unbearably ironic. As pure a voice as ever you might hear, somehow elevated further in tandem with that of her partner, she was one of the greats.
I missed their last UK tour due to a family engagement and it will be an eternal regret. How we take for granted those who move us beyond measure. An act’s music is brought to the centre of our worlds by them making us the centre of theirs. They give us everything in order to access the kind of intensity that buzzed through me on that evening in early April. I am so profoundly sad for Alan and their family, but - of course - enormously grateful that we have such a body of work to still enjoy. Their 2004 b-sides and rarities set was entitled ‘A Lifetime Of Temporary Relief’. It is a fitting description of what they gave the world, providing restorative moments of the sublime amongst the chaos. The rest of the EP is worth hearing too, but the dazzling balm of ‘Hand So Small’ is far from short-term for this immeasurably indebted listener.
First Look
This has to be the start of a reissue campaign putting the whole catalogue on vinyl, right? How we have waited for due respect to be given to the sensational output of Girls Aloud. After a charity 7” release of their debut single last year, we now arrive at a green vinyl outing for the first, imperfect album, ‘Sound Of The Underground’. There’s a web-store exclusive picture disc too, which comes in the same packaging. It’s out on Friday but you can get a sense of what to expect below.
Chrysalis are continuing to dust off and expand the Ultravox catalogue with 1982’s ‘Quartet’. Out on July 7th, there’s a 2LP set or a 4LP clear vinyl box set. The latter has all the content of the double - the original album and a selection of b-sides and single mixes - and then an entire live set from the Hammersmith Odeon at the end of the year of the record’s release. The vinyl has been cut at half-speed by Alchemy at Air and they are GZ pressings in poly-lined inners. You can see the sleeve and printed insert of the more affordable option below.
Something for the ‘read all the way to the end’ folk
I firmly believe that Ed Harcourt has never released a weak album. I remember seeing him supporting Beth Orton several decades ago and wondering what exactly to make of him. It was clear that aspects of the music were my sort of thing, but his blustering, gruff performance that night didn’t quite convince. It took ‘Strangers’ to make me realise just why I should be so very fond of his work. From there, I backtracked quickly through his catalogue, lapping it all up and installing ‘Apple Of My Eye’ in my favourite songs list after barely half a dozen plays. There’s something truly special about his careful deployment of bombast, phenomenally aggressive piano playing and soaring voice. But he remains tricky to describe. Imagine someone told Tom Waits he had to sound like Paul McCartney. Indeed, there are moments on 2010’s overlooked triumph ‘Lustre’ where Ed Harcourt unleashes his inner Waits to great effect. Given my recent praise for his work with Sophie Ellis-Bextor, I found myself tempted to dig out this old, over-looked favourite.
The title track channels blue-eyed soul in a manner not previously attempted by Harcourt and, as an album opener, it is euphoric. A masterclass in bringing everything in at exactly the right time, it builds to a point where it seems almost too pleasurable, so artful is its construction. You’ll struggle to get on to the second track without at least one replay. Not that ‘Haywired’ isn’t worth your time, coming on all ‘Strawberry Fields’ before dropping in wide-panned drums of not inconsiderable heft.
‘Church Of No Religion’ follows, proving more in keeping with conventional early Harcourt fare, with its skulking rhythm and understated vocal performance. Lyrically, it offers a - not entirely unexpected, thanks to the less than cryptic title - critique of religious beliefs and suggests that we should all take responsibility for our own actions, rather than opting to hide behind notions of God’s forgiveness. Engaging stuff, much like the rough and tumble of ‘Heart Of A Wolf’, which features growly Ed, juxtaposed neatly with full-blooded, syrupy backing vocals. The chorus opts for bombast, only to drop you straight back into the rough terrain of the first verse once again for the second. By the time the full on oompah and distorted vocals are rolled out, any sense of perspective is long gone. It is, to be blunt, bloody marvellous.
All-out pop returns for ‘Do As I Say Not As I Do’, which has joyous handclaps and the angelic falsetto refrain of the title to recommend it. “To all the people I’ve offended, you probably needed it,” is a pretty sodding splendid lyric too. A sensible choice for first single, back when that was still almost a thing. Sorry, you need another clip:
‘Killed By The Morning Sun’ comes on like sun-dried country soul, the incessant organ sound low in the mix, ensuring things stay absorbingly laid back. High drama soon returns, however, with ‘Lachrymosity’ (The word itself is made up, but its meaning is not difficult to guess.) Sounding not unlike Rufus Wainwright, this scabrous take on middle class angst, tear-jerking indie and the knuckle-dragging men who haunt city bars in their standard uniform of crisp white shirt and jeans every Friday night is one of my favourite tracks on an album full of highlights.
‘When The Lost Don’t Want To Be Found’ has a slow, epic drum sound that conjures the idea of a shotgun going off in a cake tin. While musically it’s utterly charming, it’s the quite beautiful vocal that makes this one worth your time. Indeed, there are several points on this album where I was struck by just how good a singer he is, penultimate track ‘So I’ve Been Told’ only serving to further reinforce this. Quite simply, the way in which he delivers the word ‘mind’ as if it has double the number of syllables gets me every time.
Album closer ‘Fears Of A Feather’ is an unmistakeable show stopper, replete with an emphatic, swooning chorus. It’s a fittingly upbeat end to an album that served to underline Ed Harcourt’s desire to begin again, to have a second crack, to take on the world with freshly filled lungs. In the years since, he has explored instrumental piano work, soundtracks and the steady evolution of his sound as a solo artist. ‘Back Into The Woods’ and ‘Furnaces’ explore rather different sides of the same striking talent and, as I said at the start, his work with other artists has been noteworthy also. If your knowledge of Harcourt’s work stops at the mid-Noughties, give this a go and see if it charms you as much as it does me.