Leeds art-rock gurus Mush take on the current dystopia on new album Lines Redacted

Benjamin Forrest on 14 February 2021

Leeds-based art-rock indie guitar gurus Mush released their second full-length LP this month to much critical acclaim. The album was released on Memphis Industries, home of their Leeds contemporaries Menace Beach, which acts as a good indicator for the sheer quality of this release. Mush burst onto the radar of the music press in the run up to the release of their debut album 3D Routine in early 2020 and, despite the coronavirus pandemic, the band seem to be going from strength to strength and gathering momentum all the while. Lines Redacted follows on from October’s Yellow Sticker Hour EP and is the band’s first release since the tragic loss of guitarist Steven Tyson in December 2020. 

3D Routine was, in my mind, one of the greatest albums of 2020 thereby it would be tough for Lines Redacted to top it, but I dare say that the new album is the band’s finest work thus far. Mush have retained their trademark sound in terms of jangly guitars and lyrics critical of the current political landscape, yet their sound has clearly matured a great deal since the last album. The angry, and at times comedic, takes on the current state of affairs are backed up by one of the tightest bands around at the moment. One of my very few criticisms of their debut was a feeling of overproduction, if you listen to the 7” release of Gig Economy vs the album mix, for instance, the 7” version feels a lot rawer and more energetic – a feeling which was lacking on the album in my opinion. On Lines Redacted, however, I have no such criticisms, Lee Smith does a fantastic job of mixing these tracks. Smith had previously worked with Pulled Apart By Horses and The Cribs which obviously suggests Lines Redacted is purposely going for a more raw, loud and distorted style in comparison to the clean-cut sound of 3D Routine.

The tracks on Lines Redacted fluctuate between moods, there is certainly more variation in this album in comparison to the band’s previous works – from the upbeat Mush we all know and love on tracks like ‘Blunt Instruments’ and ‘Seven Trumpets’, to a much more mellow, melancholic atmosphere on the final track ‘Lines Discontinued’. The album, on the whole, feels much more mellifluous as opposed to the high-energy of previous songs such as ‘Revising My Fee’ for example. ‘Lines Discontinued’ is definitely the standout track on the album, a seven-and-a-half-minute masterpiece which encapsulates everything that is brilliant about Mush. The sudden changes in mood, the tongue-and-cheek lyrics and the absolute excellence of the guitar riffs – it is all present within this track. ‘Lines Discontinued’ only serves as a representation for just how incredible and versatile this band are. 

I was lucky enough to see Mush perform at the album launch of 3D Routine (before the world fell apart) and it simply blows you away to witness such a display of musical brilliance right in front of you – particularly on Lines Redacted, I think Mush have been able to replicate this perfectly within a studio setting. There are no other bands that spring to mind that are comparable to Mush currently, nobody else is doing what Mush are – at least not to the same scale or quality – they are beautifully original, innovative and they are sure to go down as one of the greatest independent bands produced by the city of Leeds. 

Psychedelic Porn Crumpets evolve on chaotic new album Shyga! The Sunlight Mound

Benjamin Forrest on 11 February 2021

When flicking through boxes of singles in a record store, people like me are often compelled to a band simply because of their name. In fact, I have discovered some of my favourite artists via this method, and Psychedelic Porn Crumpets are no exception. As you can likely deduce via the name, or the fact that they formed in an old horse barn after meeting each other through a shared drug dealer, that the Crumpets are a fairly ‘far out’ band. Their first studio album High Visceral (released in two parts) is brilliant explorations of grunge psychedelia, whilst their 2019 album And Now for the Whatchamacallit signified a transition more towards pop rock – though elements of their original sound remained, on tracks such as ‘Social Candy’. 

The Perth outfit’s latest offering Shyga! The Sunlight Mound feels very much like a continuation of their previous album, in terms of moving from a more hardcore, grungy, psychedelic sound to a style more consistent of indie rock. That being said, Shyga! blows the previous album out the water. It feels much more refined and perfected – incorporating elements of their early work whilst still creating a more pop-y sound – perhaps reminiscent of their Australian counterparts Tame Impala. Instead of feeling like the band have sold out their sound for more commercial success, though, it feels like this is simply an evolution in the sound of the band which, in my eyes, can only act as a positive thing going forwards – nobody needs another Catfish and the Bottlemen churning out the same album every few years. It is also important to note that the band exists on their own label, What Reality? Records and, I mean, their name is ‘Psychedelic Porn Crumpets’ – so I very much doubt the claims that the band are selling out their original sound for a more commercially viable record.

The album, from the first track onwards it is very energetic, fast-paced, and, at times, chaotic – most notably on tracks such as ‘Tripolasaur’. There is scarcely a chance to catch your breath, it is like racing through a tunnel of acid-induced hallucinations (much like in the beloved children’s film Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory). The band reportedly have a broad range of influences from Led Zeppelin to the Mighty Boosh, both of which are identifiable within this album, with many tracks featuring guitar riffs which would not feel completely out of place on a 1970’s hard rock album. The latter half of the album, in particular, features some fantastically energetic adrenaline-shots, coming in the form of ‘Mundungus’ and ‘The Tale of Gurney Gridman’ which were a very welcome addition to the driving momentum present throughout the album. Shyga! admittedly delivers some very route-one indie pop songs on tracks like ‘Mr. Prism’ which, although not a bad song by any means, is disappointing from a standpoint of musical exploration and originality. Much of what the Psychedelic Porn Crumpets are doing on this album was being done by Menace Beach five years previous, so the Crumpets are not necessarily breaking new ground with Shyga! The Sunlight Mound. It does, however, show a maturing of their sound which often, on this album, results in some chaotically fun songs to listen to and I will still undoubtedly be revisiting this album throughout the year

Pom Poko release weird and wonderful second album Cheater

Benjamin Forrest on 2 February 2021

January saw the release of Cheater, the second full-length LP by Oslo’s finest art punk outfit Pom Poko. The album was released via Bella Union, an independent record label operated by Simon Raymonde of the Cocteau Twins – so, inherently, anything put out on Bella Union must be worth a listen. In a similar vain to Cocteau Twins, Pom Poko have managed to create their own weird, wonderful and distinctive sound which really comes into its own within their latest offering.

Their 2019 single ‘Leg Day’ gained airplay on radio stations such as BBC 6Music, and the band were fairly high up on the bill for Live at Leeds 2020 (which obviously did not go ahead). Pom Poko seem to be on the cusp of breaking into the mainstream of alternative music, and if this record does not tip them over the edge then there is no justice in the world. Every track is so perfectly crafted and yet simultaneously chaotic you cannot help but stop in amazement about what your ears are actually hearing. The melodic siren song vocals of lead singer Ragnhild Fangel are backed up by a vicious menagerie of noise and distortion reminiscent of an acid trip at a Mudhoney show – it shouldn’t work, but it does. 

The name Pom Poko comes from a 90’s Studio Ghibli film in which mythical creatures with shape-changing abilities use their supernatural powers in order to combat the urban development threatening their forest home. To an extent, I think that is a good representation of the band in terms of them using all their outlandish and unusual musical devices to combat the banal, grey, commercialised nature of so much of the music being released as of late. Pom Poko are determined to prove there is still a place for originality and experimentation in music. 

Cheater fluctuates between moods, from the dreamy almost-dreampop atmosphere created on ‘Andrew’ and ‘Body Level’, to the out-and-out punk chaos of ‘Andy Go to School’ and ‘Look’ yet, weirdly, it never feels jarring when listening in the context of the album. ‘Curly Romance’ is perhaps the best example of how Pom Poko are able to effortlessly switch moods, often abruptly, even within the same song. Listening to this album is like being caught up in a whirlwind except it is simply euphoric and, for want of a better word, fun. ‘Like a Lady’ is the standout track on Cheater as it sums up, for me, everything that the band means, as well as being a perfect development upon their previous work – it blows ‘Leg Day’ out of the water, despite how utterly incredible that song is. 

The band put their uniquely explosive sound down to a clash of their ‘jazz school training and experimental leanings’, and if jazz school incorporates even a fraction of the tumultuous debauchery present on Cheater, then sign me up! 

Pom Poko are set to play the Community Room at Brudenell Social Club in September, and I am looking froward to witnessing their rapturous chaos firsthand. 

‘Bridgerton’ Review: Why is it so popular and is it worth the hype?

Hannah Spruce on 21 January 2021

Despite only being released on 25th December 2020, Bridgerton became Netflix’s fifth most-watched original launch, with over 63 million households tuning in to watch the regency drama unfold. Based on the novels by American author Julia Quinn, the series follows the influential Bridgerton family during the eventful social season as they navigate the competitive world of love, status and expectation.

Broadcast amidst tighter lockdown restrictions in the UK, the series benefits from a nationwide desire for escapism. At the centre of the story, is the relationship between favoured debutanté Daphne Bridgerton (Phoebe Dyvenor) and bachelor Simon Bassett (Regé-Jean Page), whose connection is formed on the basis of a relationship ruse. The relationship between the two leads is convincing but also flawed, which adds a level of depth and relatability to the characters which is not always present in period dramas.

 However, it is the strength of the ensemble cast that secures the series’ longevity. The characters are likeable and engaging, with unique story arcs which are already being set up for the second series. Daphne and Simon’s story is largely concluded by the finale, but the audience is left with a desire to see the stories of the secondary characters develop.  The Lady Whistledown subplot, narrated by the revered Julie Andrews, ties the whole Bridgerton universe together and ensures that the drama is not only limited to the two lead characters.

Although largely lighthearted in tone, under the guise of bright costuming and elaborate balls the series also highlights some serious topics. The precarious position of women is explored through the competitive nature of the marriage market and it exposes many women’s lack of autonomy in their destiny. Similarly, although the younger women in Bridgerton are often strong-willed and passionate, they are also extremely vulnerable and largely ignorant of the society which awaits them.

Despite its clear popularity, the series has not been without criticism. There has been some questioning over the historical accuracy and diversity of the series, to which Julia Quinn responded ‘’I’ve been dinged by the accuracy police – but it’s fantasy!’ The beauty of the series is its ability to include and immerse a wide audience. It combines all the elements of successful period dramas; the ball sequences, the country houses and central love arc, without feeling restricted or stagnant. When adapting a Jane Austen novel, you are limited by the notoriety of the characters, the language and the story. An example being the 2020 version of Sanditon, Austen’s unfinished novel, which was met with backlash over its uncharacteristic ending. Therefore, unlike Austen, Quinn’s novels are more flexible, they maintain the regency appeal whilst successfully incorporating modern inspirations from other eras. Bridgerton isn’t afraid to push the boundaries of what is expected of a period drama with its polarising sex scenes quickly revealing to the audience that the series would be multifaceted and unimpeded by convention.

Bridgerton pays homage to the beloved elements of period dramas, whilst still feeling fresh and engaging. Its diverse and charming cast is complemented by the immersive and romantic setting, which appeals to both serial period drama lovers and new fans of the genre. Ultimately, the series temporarily distracts us from the bleak state of the world and reiterates the utter joy and importance of the arts in providing entertainment even in the darkest of times.

‘The Midnight Sky’ review: George Clooney fails to save humanity from lockdown boredom

Jack Denison on 21 January 2021

Netflix’s latest big-budget project, The Midnight Sky, is a sci-fi drama directed by and starring George Clooney. The film focuses on Augustine (Clooney), a modern-day mad scientist isolated with a young, mute girl at a research facility in the Artic, who must warn the crew of a spaceship about a recent global catastrophe.

The apocalypse that acts as the hotplate under the character’s motivations, is executed with delicacy. Instead of an all guns blazing, disaster cinematic spectacle, where the skies might as well be falling on the audience too, as seen in 2012 and The Day After Tomorrow, it’s charged by a subtle, lurking, eerie menace. It’s holstered in the unknown, its wrath left to the imagination of the audience, like a silent blanket slowly being drawn over the world. This allows Clooney to hit some chords pretty well, asking; if the world were to stop spinning and fall silent, entombed by darkness, how far would you go to make contact with your family?

The film flexes some stunning cinematography infused with strong post-production colour work, creating some vibrant stills of the world’s last twilight from the Artic, making us feel like we’re watching a planetarium show. Clooney’s acting reflects the deafening stillness of his environment skilfully and his narrative’s midpoint will certainly leave you with clammy hands.

Credit: Variety

However, this is the furthest the film goes in earning merit and is fully eclipsed by its strong flaws, particularly in its script. With dystopian space films being rife in today’s cinema catalogue, the ‘isolated astronaut/scientist’ trope has also been tackled several times and Midnight Sky falls last in the race by a long way. 

Typically, films, especially one of this calibre, need a threat or a force that not only drives the characters through their narrative but also keeps the audience engaged. This nexus to any project that wants a shot at being successful is ignored for ninety-five percent of the film. The finale’s twist, albeit rather bittersweet and tragically endearing, finally sprinkling motivation and meaning on the characters and the film, does not excuse the two hours of boredom and confusion. The film up to this point never finds its feet, never telling us what journey it’s going to take us on, what it’s about and sadly, why we should keep watching. The film in a way explores two narratives, an insight into Augustine’s lonely existence and also the tension and diplomacy of the crew of astronauts. By structuring the script like this, it exasperates the restless need to find out what the point of the film is. Consequently, we have two separate midpoints that don’t have any real significance, especially not one concerning the development of the overall, overarching narrative.

Screenwriter, Mark Smith (The Revenant), tries to capitalise on Augustine’s dynamic with the enigmatic young girl, Iris (Caoilinn Springall) in order to fabricate the film’s force and drive. Cross-generational pairs can perform very well in films, often pursuing the route of an entertaining dichotomy that symbiotically helps construct each other’s character and narrative arch. Here, their relationship doesn’t even come close to this very basic canon, but instead goes the other way and is quite frustrating and tedious, considering how Iris might as well have just as much screen time as Clooney, but doesn’t say a single word. Rather, this notion would’ve computed better if it had taken a step back as a sub-plot device, or if Iris’ character was embraced more.

The Midnight Sky’s disappointing reception was not helped by the drought of new content audiences are receiving, or with the entire country being in lockdown fighting our very own global crisis for that matter. Sadly, circumstantial or not, Clooney’s big white, bushy beard brought more Christmas entertainment to the season than the film itself.

Header image credit: NBC News

Mank Review: David Fincher’s Love Letter to Old Hollywood

Jack Denison on 6 January 2021

Mank marks the collaboration between heavy-weight Director David Fincher (Fight Club, Seven, The Social Network) and Netflix. It throws us into the action of Hollywood in the 1930’s from the perspective of the raging alcoholic screenwriter, Herman J. Mankiewicz, as he writes Citizen Kane, one of the highest acclaimed films of all time. The film is rife with social commentary on the industry at the time, communicating the world’s political ambiguity with World War Two lurking just around the corner.

Fincher goes slightly off-piste in Mank, a black and white love-letter to 1930s Hollywood, much like La La Land was to 1950s Musicals. His romanticisation of the era roars. The punching of the type-writer for scene headings, strong orchestral scores, fuzzy gramophone-like dialogue quality, characters’ faces split up with light strips from drawn blinds and idling cigarettes delicately left balancing on the rim of an ashtray and still smoking. His brilliant direction brings these text-book pictures to life. We’re teleported back into the bustling streets of Hollywood with classic cars, retro poster ads, bellboys with funny hats, three piece suits and tie clips and filterless cigarettes. We are also given an insight into turmoil left behind by the Great Depression, the anticipation of the Golden Era and speculation about what this ‘Hitler’ guy is up to in Germany. Even though Mank is set some ninety years ago, the parallels in-between its financial crisis to ours today were too big to go unnoticed. 

The casting pays off, with the great Gary Oldman taking the reigns as the screenwriting protagonist and Amanda Seyfried filling the shoes of a femme fatale-like actress. Despite this, the script hampers his potential and doesn’t give him the space of delivering a game-changer we know he’s capable of. How much wiggle room can an actor have to impress if he’s cemented in a bed for half the film? With this being said, there is credit to be rewarded in the casting department, particularly for not giving in to pressures for mega marketable names unlike the Coen Brother’s Hail Caesar!, starring George Clooney, Scarlett Johnson and Jonah Hill. Going down this path would’ve tainted the artistic integrity and tone which Fincher boasts.

Not long into Mank, once the novelty of its beautiful lighting and striking costumes begins to settle, its serious flaws begin to materialise. Alarm bells start to ring early on, booming ‘style over substance’ and this is incredibly hard to shake off. The film’s runtime of nearly 2 1/2 hours proves to make it a downright tedious experience, boldly toying with audience’s patience levels. Equally, the film is peppered with meaning and conflict that just doesn’t appeal to the common man. The daily endeavours of Herman J. Mankiewicz and his navigation to making one of the best pieces of cinema is actually, quite a dull piece of cinema. Mank prioritises its indulgent commitment to the vintage aesthetic and consequently, neglects the most primitive service of cinema; to entertain.

This trap also has a knock on effect with the flow of the narrative, through the excessive usage of the slow, fade-to-black. Although this editing technique is also a motif from the Noir-era, it’s exhausted and as a result makes the entire film feel very segmented, like a collection of isolated scenes that don’t carry over smoothly on to the next. Middle man, John Houseman (played by Sam Troughton), pays a visit to Herman Mankiewicz, criticising his patient development on Citizen Kane, saying he’s “hardly out of the first act”. What’s amusing with this line is how the concept of plot structure is non-existent in the overarching film, resulting in a narrative that waffles through its generous run-time. Although validation can be given to the importance of flashbacks, it isn’t executed very well or clearly, resulting in a slightly messy narrative.

Mank offers something new in an age of humdrum films built on generic conventions and passive audiences. It packs a theoretically interesting premise, that delivers for a two-minute trailer, but over 135 minutes, it’s empty and falls flat on its face. Fincher won our trust in making biopics with an exciting, slick and intense execution in The Social Network. You’d be forgiven to assume that he copied and pasted his algorithmic approach here with Mank, but alas, as we all know, lightning doesn’t strike twice. Fincher has lost his charm in this project, but what has stayed is his slick dialogue, clever subtext and ‘cigarette burns’ (queue, Tyler Durden monologue). But ask yourself this – if a house can’t be built on sand, can a film stand on aesthetics and dialogue?

Header image credit: The Times

Review: Dash and Lily

Anushka Searle on 4 December 2020

Dash & Lily is an American Christmas-based rom-com Netflix show based in New York City. The show is based on the young adult book series by Rachel Cohen and David Levithan, with the first book being Dash & Lily’s Book of Dares. Unsurprisingly, the story surrounds the protagonists Dash (Austin Abrams) and Lily (Midori Francis). Lily, encouraged by her brother, creates a book of dares that she hides in a bookshop next to her favourite book, in the hope that it will be discovered by her perfect match. Of course, Dash discovers the book and so the show follows the protagonists as they travel around New York while trading dares, dreams and desires.

If you are a fan of a good cheesy Christmas movie, then you will absolutely love these 8 episodes of pure Christmas fun. Dash & Lily gives you those soppy feel-good feelings that make your heart heavy – think a combination of The Holiday, Love Actually and A Christmas Prince. Whether it’s a crush, a partner, or a long-lost love, this series will immediately make you dream of that special someone. This series brings forth those warm, fuzzy feelings of love, and isn’t that what we all want to feel this year… love.

Of course, like most cheesy Christmas films, or rom-coms in general, some things are a tad far-fetched and unrealistic. It is unlikely that 17-year olds (where the drinking age is 21) would be able to get in a club hassle-free and with no ID checks. It also seems very far-fetched that these teenagers, Lily in particular, would have so many connections in New York to help them plan all their great dares. However, if the story were to follow a more realistic route than we would have a very boring story, where the notebook would never have been found and our protagonists would barely leave the house, spending most of their days sleeping until 2pm. So, bring on the unrealistic relationships for us all to idealise this Christmas!

Even if you don’t usually enjoy Christmas, this show will still be enjoyable, as it is not all Christmas joy and tackles the seasonal blues too and Dash himself doesn’t even like Christmas! Let’s be honest, after such a rough year I think some cheesy comfort watches are in order, we all need a little escapism. So, make yourself a deluxe hot chocolate, pop on Dash & Lily, and enjoy this love letter to New York.

Oh, and if that wasn’t enough the Jonas Brothers also make a cameo appearance!

Molchat Doma’s Monument: A gothic snyth-pop dance party

Benjamin Forrest on 19 November 2020

Belarus trio Molchat Doma’s 2018 album ‘Этажи’ was deeply ahead of its time, signified by the fact that it has only recent started gaining traction in the UK (yes thanks, in part, to Tik Tok – but let’s not go there). Nevertheless, the album solidified the band as one of the greatest current post-punk outfits on the planet and, as I see it, ‘Monument’ only goes to further that claim. 

Whilst I adore the band’s previous work, I would have liked to see more evolution in sound between their last album and ‘Monument’, it follows very similar themes and sounds – which is positive given how great their signagture sound is, however I feel as though, if they continue down this path for multiple future albums, the sound is in danger of becoming somewhat stale. For now, though, Molchat Doma still sound incredible, and refreshingly different in comparison to the vast majority of other popular ‘post-punk’ acts at the moment (a lot of whom are beginning to sound identical to each other, leading me to worry that post-punk will become the next ‘indie rock’, but that is a story for another day). 

The album kicks off with Cold War style nightclub banger ‘Utonut’ and doesn’t really lift off after that point, continuing the 80’s style synth, reminiscent of New Order, early Depeche Mode, or Telex, on tracks such as ‘Discoteque’ and ‘Ne Smeshno’. The standout track, for me, would have to be ‘Otveta Net’. The dark, booming voice of vocalist Egor Shkutko compliments the retro drum beat and Roman Komogortsev’s whining guitar tones beautifully to create what, I think, will come to be one of Molchat Doma’s defining tracks when all is said and done. 

Written entirely in quarantine, Monument embraces the darkness and despair, but doesn’t wallow in the sadness like so many others. Instead, the album is a kind of gothic snyth-pop dance party, which fits the mood of lockdown pretty well honestly. It is perhaps one of the few albums that would work equally well at a house party, or a 2:00am bout of deep melancholy. As Shukuto claims in the lyrics to ‘Discoteque’: “I will continue to dance”, that lyric, in my eyes, is a fitting signifier for the entire album: continuing to dance through the darkness and misery of life in 2020. Truthfully, this album could not have come out at a better time, deep into the second period of lockdown everybody is feeling helpless and tired, we all need the moody tones of three Belarusian men to help us forget about our troubles and cry-dance alone in our bedrooms to industrial, cold wave, post-punk synths.