REVIEW | CunninLynguists - Rose Azura Njano

When you're a rap collective called CunninLynguists, you're gonna have to produce some pretty outstanding music in order to be taken seriously. Incidentally, the Southern American trio had never initially even aspired towards the latter, their name casually dreamt up in the early stages of formation. Seventeen years on and the group have risen from Atlantan obscurity to become one of the most acclaimed acts in The South's underground hip-hop scene. That being said, for a rap collective which has garnered such critical acclaim over the years, the release of their first proper studio album in over six years has passed pretty much under the radar.

Rose Azura Njano, CunninLynguists' ambiguously named sixth record, produced entirely by founding member Kno, is no great departure from the style which characterises their accomplished
discography. If I were to sum up my overall impression in a word it would be funky. The production is masterfully layered, making use of a variety of instruments which transcend both era and genre. Jangling 80s guitars sit comfortably alongside thunderous grand pianos and the snapping snares more familiar to fans of 2000s rap. Elements like the electric guitar solo at the end of Red Bird and the high-pitched synth tracks on Red White And Blues are shining examples of Kno's adventurous approach to the record's production, setting it apart from anything else I've heard all year.

While the album sports an eclectic range of sounds, lyrically it seems more focused, covering both social and political issues. Perhaps the most dominant theme is America's (and perhaps the world's) racial inequality covered in songs like Riot! and Violet (The Upper Room).

"Being hood ain't the absence of good
Being square don't make you equal or fair, it's not an equal affair"

Natti and Deacon The Villain, who take on the majority of the album's lyrical (as well as vocal) duties, seem wistful, even melancholy at times as they consider the state of humanity. More specifically, they dwell on the injustices which grip American (and indeed Western) society, chiefly racial inequality but also issues like gentrification (Gone) and the modern obsession with celebrity (Any Way The Wind Blows). At times sad, at others angry, Kno sets the tone and tempo of each beat according to the lyrical content of the verses. In a genre where expressing feelings makes you a 'pussy bitch', this is a step forward if nothing else.


Each track is delivered with that Southern Fried flow, reminiscent of André 3000 and Killer Mike,

with bars ending on a single emphasised word. It's a unique style, well-suited to Kno's beats but becomes a little formulaic. As is the case with so many hip-hop records, the first half is excellent but the second half drags a little and could have been spiced up with some guest features. The soft Southern tones, while certainly not devoid of passion, are at times missing a bit of excitement.
          Nevertheless, Rose Azura Njano is a chilled, meaningful and, above all unique album which deserves lots of credit.   
7/10

Everything Everything - A Fever Dream

After a major resurgence over the past half decade, the British indie scene (to conflate a vast array of genres) has gone relatively quiet once again. With bands like The Wombats and Catfish And The Bottlemen, both of whom saw their wider popularity soar in recent years, currently writing new albums, a void (albeit a fairly small one) has been left. By far and away the most original band paddling in that tide of indieness at the time was Everything Everything. Their 2015 record Get To Heaven broke them into the top ten of the UK Albums Chart and received outstanding levels of critical acclaim. Naturally then, a followup has been eagerly anticipated by fans and critics alike...

The album starts strongly, opening with the forlorn tones of Night Of The Long Knives. The track continues Jonathan Higgs' lyrical tendency towards social and political commentary, named after Hitler's infamous purge against political opponents. It immediately conjures up comparisons between the Nazism of the 1930s and 40s and the ominously growing presence of fascist rhetoric in today's political discourse. This is followed by the insatiably catchy and more upbeat leading single Can't Do, which focuses on the pressures of finding lyrical inspiration, and then third single Desire, a critique of our increasingly selfish and reckless society, personified perhaps by Trump. The cascading synthesizers and twangy basslines in these three tracks represent the perfect sonic transition into the new album.

From that point the record embarks on a significantly edgier course even by the four piece's wild standards. Theses could be written on every song, there is so much to unpack. Whilst Big Game is a more directly overt attack on the tangerine leader of the free world, later songs tackle more philosophical and political issues including xenophobia and the legitimacy of power. Their lyrics remain clear enough throughout that a general message can be understood in most songs but crucially remain abstract enough that listeners can make their own particular interpretations as to the metaphors and wordplay used throughout.
   
The record, particularly in its latter half, feels significantly slower than Get To Heaven. This has been chosen deliberately, perhaps to mirror the darker, more sombre tone created by its lyrical content. Additionally, it's clear to see the group becoming more adventurous with production, adding intricate layers of sound to every song. In places they've certainly overdone it and the tracks grow discordant and grating, however these are certainly in the minority. Love, so often an overarching theme for most artists, only crops up in the final song (White Whale), which captures the delicately melancholic sound of the final five.

Everything Everything are a band who relish in defying musical convention and they have done so once again with A Fever Dream, crafting a truly original and intelligent album. While it may not possess the more catchy commercial charms of Get To Heaven, its astute lyricism and careful construction ensure that it still remains a great album, cementing their position at the helm of British indie music.

                        8/10

Mini Review: Cold War Kids - LA DIVINE

Entering their thirteenth year (eleven since their debut L.P.), Long Beach's Cold War Kids can now be considered veterans of the US indie scene. However, the stop-start guitar, thumping bass drums and smooth keyboard which have come to characterise their sound remains constant. As do Nathan Willett's soaring vocals and pitch-perfect falsettos with their soulful, almost gospel rock quality reminiscent of  Foals' Yannis Philippakis or even new Brandon Flowers.
        In spite of their experience on the road, every song is infused with a youthful optimism and drive to find love. Willett approaches the latter with supernatural intensity in opening track Love Is Mystical. Don't mistake this for the groan-inducing lovey-dovey lyricism that many similar bands often find themselves producing. The Californian quintet demonstrate a certain maturity reflecting on relationships past and present, successes and failures. Nor are they simplistic: every song is layered with intricate bass and echoey percussion. While the album undeniably starts more strongly than it ends, it's definitely worth a listen nonetheless. 4/5

DOWNLOAD FRANCE: REVIEW

While I have certainly dabbled in the genre, I could hardly label myself a true 'metaler'. My skin may well be sufficiently pasty but I lack the flowing long hair of your stereotypical heavy metal fan and my beard bears closer resemblance to Henry VIII than Lemmy Kilmister. Musically, I have always been drawn to a neater, cleaner sound with tight harmonies and delicate instrumentals. As a result, my mind has been closed to vast swathes of metal music and thus I have tended to give certain festivals a wide berth. Download UK is a prime example of such and (despite the inclusion of my beloved A Day To Remember) it was once again dismissed this year. And then I saw this poster...

Honourable mention for Alter Bridge who were fantastic

When Blink 182 AND Prophets Of Rage are both playing second fiddle at a festival, it's almost an obligation to at least investigate ticket prices... and when you discover that it will only set you back 160 euros (including free camping), there really is no turning back.

Yes it did certainly have a bit of that quintessential French dodginess to it -food and shade provision was laughably shoddy- but that only added to the charm of the whole experience. Weather-wise, to use the standard British meteorological assessment, it was 'well ot', leading to the rather surreal experience of hearing the darkest, most piercing metal screams beneath soft blue sky and radiant sunshine. With so many artists headbanging their way through the weekend, it's tough to be selective but select we must.

Blink-182

Providing a summery soundtrack to the Friday sunset, the veterans of pop-punk lit up the main stage in the only way they know how: sing-along anthems, dick jokes and physics-defying Travis Barker drum solos. The short length of their songs allowed them to squeeze in the lion's share of their most iconic hits, interspersed with some lesser known B-side gems like Violence and Anthem Part 2 for those of us enthralled enough to know them. Rather than detracting from the set, the carefully selected new material complemented it excellently, the heaviest and fastest tracks (Los Angeles, Bored To Death and Cynical) chosen to satisfy the crowd of expectant metalheads. Matt Skiba brings the freshness, energy and, let's not sugar coat it, decent vocals which were unfortunately absent from Delonge's performance when I saw them three years ago. On the whole, everything was clean and refined, a superb way to kick off the festival.


Linkin Park
Although their discography can be just as prone to misses as it is to hits, Linkin Park have always shouldered a reputation for magnificent live performances. Their Download gig only served to reinforce such a reputation. The instrumentals were, as expected, on point, with added flair and extended solos (like on What I've Done) throughout, provided by Brad Delson: the calmest, most serene guitarist of all time. In amongst the chaos, the ear muffed figure amusingly perches on the amp, eyes closed, gently nodding his head to the fury of One Step Closer, Papercut and Faint etc. Predominantly however, the performance was carried by the supreme vocal combination of Mike Shinoda, always anchored to either keyboard or guitar and Chester Beddington who's left free to rampage around the stage. The former's effortless hip-hop flows and harmonies work in tandem with the latter's soaring vocals and rip-roaring screams. Both sound the same, if not better than the studio recordings.


Demonstrating a classy, intimate side previously unknown to me, the nu-metal pioneers even broke up their set with a stripped back acoustic rendition of Crawling, Chester displaying a delicate (a word rarely associated with Linkin Park) power to his voice. Tragically, however, they were let down by the new pop/dance tracks from their 2017 release One More Light. To these, the crowd reacted in a dull, subdued manner as a light chorus of boos rippled across the arena. It was performed faultlessly but when you follow Numb with what sounds like the musical lovechild of Owl City and a David Guetta tribute act to 90,000 hardcore metalers, I'm not sure what else they could have expected.

System Of A Down
Easily the most highly anticipated act of the festival, Armenia's greatest export stomped, roared and, at times, even caressed their way through a Mezmerizing (a little one for the SOAD fans), 30-song performance. I use the word 'performance' because 'set' simply doesn't do the four-piece, with their traversing of genres and mind-bending light displays, much justice. System have a truly unique sound, even amongst metal bands, mostly due to the range of Serj Tankian's vocal sounds, hopping from booming roars to high pitched chanting and spoken word. What really shines through live, though, is the seamless shifts from full metal fury to delicate riffs and beautiful harmonies.

Only a little bit unhinged

Songs spanning an entire discography (Atwa being the only notable omission), even the most diehard fans were left satisfied as each track was blended into the next, retaining an unwavering intensity. Years of performing at such intensity have audibly worn Serj's vocals a little, yet he gets around it by hitting each note perfectly but without holding it for the usual length. In any case, the audience were more than willing to take over with songs like Chop Suey!, Lonely Day and B.YO.B. drawing enough noise to jiggle the moustaches of Frenchmen for miles around. Participation was so wholehearted that, at times, the 90,000 of us almost resembled a vast, hairy choir.
        I'm not sure what the record is for the most people simultaneously head-banging in one place but I'm sure this crowd came close. There must've been some sore necks the morning after.

Prophets Of Rage
Everything about this performance was sweetened by the fact that, not only was Download pretty much the first major festival date in the metal-hip-hop conglomerate's crowded summer schedule, but a pretty rare opportunity in its own right. It's not an everyday occurrence for Rage Against The Machine's instrumentalists, Cypress Hill's B-Real and Public Enemy's Chuck D to all be in the same room, let alone touring together. But Prophets Of Rage didn't need their supergroup status to really leave their mark on the festival. In a politically charged, genre-defying set which featured remixes of hip-hop classics, impossible guitar solos and a touching tribute to late bandmate Chris Cornell, every single member was a front man.

This group define unconventional. The ability to intersperse Audioslave and Rage songs (which are themselves very distinct) with both contemporary and old-school rap isn't just brave, it's musically ground-breaking. The two rappers had great chemistry, dominating the stage and playing off each other throughout, their more conventional rap flows giving the Rage covers more of a hip-hop sound to them. Tom Morello, meanwhile, gave the best lead guitarist performance that I have ever seen live, his hands dancing around the guitar neck to produce those high-pitched riffs which categorise both Rage and Audioslave. At one point he even flipped the guitar around, revealing a "Fuck Trump" sign whilst he played it with his teeth... yeah you read that right... TEETH. Sensational stuff. For a man who's just done that to then refer to us as the best audience they have played to so far is almost tear-inducing.

Watch them perform Killing In The Name Of at Download Paris here

Green Day
Immersive. If I had to sum up Green Day's show in a word it would be immersive. In spite of the array of sublime talent on offer, Billy-Joe Armstrong still takes the coveted prize of the weekend's best frontman. At no point did he let crowd noise dip below a deafening level, constantly restoring the volume with some Freddie Mercury-esque 'AAYYY-OHHHH's. Rather than encouraging cheers, he demanded them, corralling the pink, sunburnt figures before him into clapping and jumping. We were more than happy to oblige.

   
In similar fashion to their 2013 Emirates Stadium performance, they invited several people onstage to sing and play. One of whom had clearly lied about his guitar-playing credentials and thus had to go and hold a tambourine at the back whilst someone else took over. Later, a woman did the same about her vocals, but carried it off brilliantly, stomping around the stage, jumping off amps, albeit butchering the bridge of Longview simultaneously, but I'm not sure anyone even cared. She then proceeded to execute the most almighty stage dive I have ever seen, sending some poor bastards in the front rows to A&E in the process.

Vocally, Armstrong was significantly stronger than four years ago, when he had recently returned from rehab, belting out tunes like Holiday, Hitchin' A Ride and Jesus Of Suburbia with relative ease. He is proof that the best frontman doesn't need to be the best singer. The band as a whole are proof that, with the right energy, you don't necessarily need to fanny about with intricate solos, even to a bunch of metalers; three or four chords will do. It's the Green Day way.

January & February Album Picks

Trawling through 2017's early releases so you don't have to

Music journalism is all about keeping in the loop of those new releases, not letting any good music, however wacky, whatever the state of the album cover and no matter how shite the name is, pass you by. Naturally then, my crude imitation of music journalism should be doing the same. So, like a bearded Scotsman somewhere on the North sea, I've trawled and trawled until I collected an excellently eclectic selection of new releases to bring to the table. And here they are...

Wyclef Jean - J'ouvert
For fans of: Outkast, Lauryn Hill, Pusha T

The world famous 'fugee whose hips don't lie: R&B / Hip-Hop veteran Wyclef Jean makes his dramatic comeback in style. He returns with a fully modernised sound featuring stripped back instrumentals, thumping bass and quickly snapping snares alongside his familiar soulful, rasping vocals. If you know what you're looking for, it's also easy to pick out some of those early 2000s throwback beats interspersed throughout as well, on tracks like Rear View and Party Started. His ability to incorporate his classy
guitar skills, always a unique feature of his music, is maintained here in songs like Hendrix and The Ring. A bit more of a variety of beats would be nice, with the album dwelling a bit too much on a Caribbean pop sound and not enough on his intricate lyrics or natural Hip-Hop flow but a triumphant return nonetheless. Watch him perform the maddest freestyle of 2017 on Sway In The Morning here. 3.5/5


Vant - Dumb Blood
For fans of: Cage The Elephant, Circa Waves, Catfish & The Bottlemen

One of the brightest up and coming bands in Indie music, 2017 is going to be a big year for Vant and what a way to kick it off. To summarise the band in three words, they're loud, they're angry and they're political, the latter, arguably their most exciting factor. Indie bands on the whole don't really dabble in politics nor social commentary, so to cover both in a debut record is remarkable. The London-based four piece comment on gun violence, atheism and global warming across thirteen tracks (all but one of which are under four minutes) in an album which offers us a feast of different styles.

There are grungy bass-lines and vocals intermingled with punchy garage rock power chords and bluesy guitar solos, all of which carrying the brash attitude of Punk. There are loud songs and there are even louder songs, not a lower-case letter in sight, as if to emphasise the latter. That being said, they demonstrate a fantastic range, Mattie Vant's raw, powerful and sometimes even delicate voice adapting seemlessly to such a broad array of styles. They offer something for rock fans of any persuasion. 4.5/5

Hanni El Khatib - Savage Times
For fans of: The Black Keys, Kings Of Leon

From the long hair and baggy tshirts grungy side of rock & roll to the raunchier, whiskey and hard drugs side, Hanni El Khatib brings us a collection of songs encompassing around two years of work. Khatib's voice is gravelly, passionate and has that echoey quality as if being recorded through a walkie talkie, a technique used by indie bands from The Killers to The Black Keys. Instrumentally, it's a mixed bag, sometimes dominated by heavy basslines and soaring solos, at others by the delicate, high-pitched 70s funk riffs and others still by the more arrhythmic percussive guitar sounds more familiar to modern indie fans. Some songs work themselves up into a dizzying frenzy whilst others remain more mellow throughout. The latter are the more successful on the album. I'd recommend Paralysed, Gun Clap Hero and

Black Constellation, the latter featuring by far the filthiest blues guitar solo I've heard in a long time. 3.5/5

Devlin - The Devil In
For fans of: Wretch 32, Kano, Skepta

'I've been away for a while cos shit weren't sweet like Tate & Lyle'. Devlin doesn't beat about the bush when it comes to his return. It's been a lengthy time away as well; his contributions have been noticeably absent from Grime's meteoric rise over the last few years. Very much a well-respected figure and prominent name within UK hip-hop, while other stars have reinvented themselves to ride the Grime wave (like Chip or Wiley) or carve their own alternative path through the scene (like Wretch 32), Devlin's style remains virtually unchanged. With that breakneck flow and razor sharp tongue, there's no danger of any maturing from that 'yout on the block' attitude that has, not only defined 8 years worth of his material but the emerging genre as a whole. Lyrically too, The Devil In is a continuation. Corned Beef City, Blow Your Mind and Bitches are typically acidic and venomous, not the sort of tune you stick on at a family dinner. Yet this has always differentiated him from others meaning 'Grimier' efforts like the Skepta collaboration 50 Grand feel somewhat forced. 3.5/5


The Menzingers - After The Party
For fans of: The Gaslight Anthem, Moose Blood, The Wonder Years

The Menzingers forge that beautiful little bridge between pop-punk and indie rock which, when done right, makes me very excited indeed. It gives you the best of both worlds: punchy guitar, catchy hooks and easy-on-the-ear harmonies balanced with well-crafted lyrics and more complexly structured songs. After The Party offers a combination of heartwarming love ballads (Midwestern States, Lookers), fond reminiscence of a decade as rock stars (Tellin' Lies, House On Fire) and your standard issue pop punk track about the little scamp running away from a girl's enraged boyfriend (Charlie's Army). The whole record carries with it a jovial air of unburdened youth despite most of the band members being in their thirties, yet not at a single point does this feel forced or tired. 4.5/5

LIVE REVIEW: The Wonder Years @ The O2 Institute Birmingham

Five stars for Philadelphia's pop punk six-piece on their return to the UK

I don't imagine people visit this blog with much regularity; about as frequently, I assume, as they would a distant, racist elderly relative. On the off-chance that you consider yourself a 'reader' you will know that I am a devout follower of pop punk. I have waxed lyrical about the genre over the last couple of years so I won't explain its ins and outs (may I instead direct you to this post), nor will I recycle the same jokes or pop punk tropes. Two weeks ago The Wonder Years, a working class group from South Philadelphia, continued a seemingly endless world tour at Birmingham's The Institute in support of their 2015 record: No Closer To Heaven. 

Taken from the set of The Walking Dead

The crowd, comprised of the usual band of incredibly sweaty teenagers who give pop punk gigs that distinctive smell and alarmingly sticky floor. Their energy was unquenchable, with a central moshpit which lasted the full hour and a half. Accompanying them was a not so usual band of bearded forty-somethings, one of whom resembled a hipster Karl Marx.

Nearly a year and a half on from its release, it's evident that they really have grown into performing the songs, with confidence in a well-rehearsed setlist. Throughout this period, their fans have clearly not just familiarised themselves, but have grown to love the group's new material, British fans in particular eagerly anticipating a tour. This works to everyone's benefit. The crowd belted out pretty much every song down to the word which in turn energised the band's performance further. And what a performance it was...

Several elements came together to make it a great show. Above all was the amount of energy they put in to the performance, keeping the crowd in constant frenzy throughout. Having six members really comes into fruition on stage, with two lead guitarists giving each song that extra depth and three backing vocalists to make every harmony more powerful. Furthermore, Dan Campbell, the lead vocalist, is given the additional freedom to roam about the stage and engage the baying crowd which he did excellently. I don't know if pop punk bands practise throwing their heads towards the ground in perfect unison but they nailed it every time. I don't even know why it gets the crowd going but it certainly does.
     
Their setlist was very different to what I had expected, opting for several lesser-known, quieter tracks like The Devil In My Bloodstream, Madelyn and Cigarettes & Saints. However, each of these more delicate songs acted as a buildup to anthems like Cardinals and Passing Through a Screen Door which followed them. Featuring songs from every one of their major releases, it offered something for fans, new and old. I'd have liked to see a bit more material from The Greatest Generation but that's personal preference more than anything else. Mirroring Sum 41 who I'd seen at the institute last year, The Wonder Years left their fan favourites: Passing Through A Screen Door and Came Out Swinging until the end of the performance and encore respectively. Campbell, finding new levels of intensity, stood perched on an amp directing the crowd like a sweaty, bearded conductor whilst trying to dodge enormous inflatable balls as they were batted towards him from all directions. He provided that final burst of energy to cap off a fantastic performance and as audience members trickled out, caked in stale beer and sweat under half-lit florescents, very very few would have been left dissatisfied.




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