I was listening to the Fresh Blood playlist on Apple Music as I often do when I am working. Somehow people screaming at me helps me concentrate. The first some I came across was this song by Finnish band Luna Kills. It really got my attention. The song combines a nu-metal sensibility with a delightful pop edge. I love pop songs that go grrr and this one for sure does.
Lead vocalist Lotta Ruutiainen has a delightful pop/jazz tinge to her voice but there is also some screaming for the fry fans. The band explains,
“sugar rush” captures the drive to pursue happiness in the face of persistent self-doubt. Centered around the struggle to find happiness despite a constant sense of never measuring up, the song delves into the pressures of a world that demands overachievement and monetization of everything, ultimately draining the joy from passions that once gave life meaning.”
Their debut album DEATHMATCH, set for a worldwide release on April 4, 2025,via SharpTone Records.
Check the song out in the embed video above or in the Fresh Blood playlist below.
Most other reviews of Rispah mention the death of Dave Okumu’s mother as the album’s defining feature. Of course, Rispah was written and recorded in the immediate aftermath of this event, so it would be difficult to ignore the impact: Indeed, Okumu has described the album as a “love letter to grief.” However, there is a risk that all of that (and I really don’t mean to belittle such a sad event) is getting in the way of objective opinions of the record. Rispah has so much more to offer.
THE INVISIBLE
RISPAH
Ninja Tune
2012-06-12
The Invisible comprises of Dave Okumu (vocals and guitar), Tom Herbert (bass and synthesizer) and Leo Taylor (drums). They have been working together as The Invisible since 2006 and in 2009 released a self-titled, Mercury Music Prize nominated debut album. Okumu and Co’s debut The Invisible bounced along at a furious rate of knots with dance and jazzy rhythms mixing seamlessly with rock sensibilities all pulled together with smooth production values and Okumu’s breathy vocal technique. It was pretty good but kind of fluffy in places which left this particular critic wondering a little what all of the fuss was about.
Rispah is different from that eponymous debut in the respect that the spring has been removed from the band’s step and, with it, some of the fluff that was attached. The album retains that special smooth production style with former UNKLE Richard File sitting behind the mixing desk. The jazz influence is still apparent, but with this outing, there is more fearless experimentation and more dance beats (probably File’s influence). The record is more pleasingly minimalist with shadows of Philip Glass and Eno-like treatments, which makes the record so listenable. On every listen, you are exposed to something that you may have missed the last time. It a nuanced and emotional collection of songs.
This album is also a haunted house of a collection. Not necessarily due to any subject matter of the songs (although this has an impact) but because each tune has a eerie quality that puts the listener in a strange place. So far, on every listen, Rispah manages to send chills down the spine. This quality was evident on the debut, but here it is front and centre, from the instrumental introduction “A Particle of Love”, with its swathes of swirling synths mixed with Kenyan spiritual singing (this meme resurfaces throughout the whole piece) to the seven-and-a-half minute finale, “Protection”.
Rispah never loses its way. It is a coherent group of songs that fit together in such a way that one could wonder if any of the songs were taken out of context the impact might be lost. In that respect, it should be viewed almost as an art installation. The songs flow in and out of each other often to the point where they could easily be one song. This is not because all of the songs sound identical (They don’t) but because they so strongly sit together like variations on a theme. Apparently, that theme is grief, but I find the whole thing quite uplifting. Particular highlights of the movement are “Surrender” and “Protection”, although it is hard to single any one piece out for praise.
Rispah is therefore an evolution of The Invisible’s body of work with less spring and more experiment. This cohesive collection is an eerie and nuanced collection that will reward the listener with multiple listens.
Electronic music can often be a miserable affair. Sometimes artists equate electronic with experimentation to the point that the outcome can be somewhat hard listening. These albums can be almost like an endurance test to see if you can get to the end. Happily, this record is nothing like that. DAT Politics’ Blitz Gazer is fun with a capital “F”.
DAT POLITICS
BLITZ GAZER
Sub Rosa
2012-04-24
This French electro-pop duo comprises of Claude “Datgirl” Pailliot & Gaetan C. Collett who have been in existence as (an influential) electronic outfit since 1999. There are obvious parallels with Daft Punk and Kavinsky in the sense that they come from the same part of Europe and their focus is on heating up the discotheque. However, to say that they sound like the aforementioned acts doesn’t quite nail it. Their quirkiness alone probably brings them closer to the work of Sébastien Tellier. These are idiosyncratic pop tunes that aren’t really meant to be critiqued, only danced to.
Pop music really never sounded so “pop” and disposable. It is lacking substance for sure, but who on earth would care about that? This is music for dancing and grinning like a shot fox while you are at it. You will find evidence of some electronic experiments but there is absolutely nothing po-face about this record. The reason for this is simple; it has the 1980s writ LARGE all over its smiley dancey little face. You can’t help yourself but enjoy it.
With Blitz Gazer DAT Politics have taken the cheesier elements of ’80s dance music (Giorgio Moroder, Harold Faltemeyer, etc.) and poured on some freshly-melted fromage of their own. The more serious songs like “Sourcloud” are blissfully short (clocking in at under 2 minutes) for the rest they throw in all kinds of fun stuff for example the Star Trek “red-alert” noises on “Switch On” (also by the way one of the more serious tunes).
For the most part we are treated to instrumentals with the occasional sampled voice or barely indecipherable person-noise (like in the fabulously daffy “Hypnotricks”) but every once in a while there is something like a real song. However, when this happens (like on “Melt Down”) it appears to have happened almost by accident, as if the band have dropped their guard for a brief moment or two. No worries, they soon regain their composure and return to bonkers ascending chords and tunes that have slightly jammed feel about them. It is these moments that make the record really worthwhile.
What’s interesting is that by all accounts this album is a more mature and subdued affair than in previous outings. Phrases such as “sugar-fed optimism” have been used to describe the band’s output in the past. As this album is clearly something of a hyperactive teenager of a record, one shudders to think what the band might have sounded like going through the “terrible twos”. What must this pair sound like live?
All in all if you are looking for a record to liven up your party or even to combat a long and desperately boring drive Blitz Glazer should be your weapon of choice. A perfect pop performance.
The Golden Hour stands tall as a flawed but remarkably good experiment in mixing up influences from all over the globe. Firewater’s main man Tod A. went to the source of his musical influences to create this collection of catchy melodies that, for the most part, grab your attention instantly. It teeters on the line between punk and world music and thankfully does not sit well in either camp. It does show that pop music is universal.
Firewater is an interesting beast. It is not quite a rock band and not really a solo project. This loose conglomeration of artists is pretty hard to place in a neat little generic box. If you were forced, you might file it under a very broad “World Music” heading. However, this, as with any label, does not tell anything like the whole story. Firewater is the brainchild of former Cop Shoot Cop bassist Tod A. When he “formed” Firewater, he wanted to combine Eastern European melodies with punk rock. In 2005, he was so disillusioned with the state of the political landscape of the United States of America that he packed his laptop, some lunch, and set off to travel through the Middle East, the Indian Subcontinent, and South East Asia. The result of this epic three-year journey is The Golden Hour. If this album is anything to go by, what a journey it must have been.
Tod A.’s weblog from this period is a really entertaining document of a man on the run from his national identity, on a desperate voyage of self-discovery. The record’s press release speaks a great deal about how the journey challenged him creatively and shaped the resulting record. I don’t wish to be mean-spirited, but of course it did. Any action that we undertake as human beings helps us to grow and influences our behavior. So travellng broadens the mind eh? Who’d of thunk it?
Cheap cutting jibes aside, The Golden Hour takes its influence from the musical landscape that Tod A. crossed and is all the richer for it. The album weaves his trademark acerbic storytelling through rich cross-cultural beats and rhythms, resulting in a noteworthy attempt at interdisciplinarity. This sounds too haughty and academic; the album really rocks. It defies, nay challenges, you not to tap your feet or, heaven forbid, dance.
There are strong undertones of the Clash’s early experiments with reggae and a heavy dose of latter day Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds. Imagine these influences first marinated in a light sprinkling of klezmer, bhangra, drum loops, and samples and served with high-quality production values. This is a very modern world music record. It is hard to conceive that it was recorded in five countries over a two-year period; the quality sparkles.
Real highlights of The Golden Hour are the opening track, “Borneo”, which would easily find a home on a Nick Cave album, or “Paradise”, which effortlessly (and probably unintentionally) echoes Tom Waits. Oh, really it is unfair to pick favorites from this record, but what the hell. I’d say that the first three tracks (“Borneo”, “This is My Life”, and “Some Kind of Kindness”) are difficult to match in any arena. Alright … alright, track two is my favorite, but only with a gun to my head. There are no stinkers on this collection; it is more that sometimes the formula works better than others. I fully expect the less immediate songs to grow on me in time. That has to be a sign of a good pop album.
Tod A. says that he would rather “blow up the laboratory” experimenting with music than reinvent the wheel. This, to me, is a damn fine idea if it produces such a delightful record. The punk prodigal is coming home, picking you up by the scruff of your neck, and showing you that pop music exists outside of Pop (bleeding) Idols.
Shedding the Past is a collection of eleven Detroit-style techno tunes by German techno engineer Shed.
SHED
SHEDDING THE PAST
Ostgut
2008-09-02
It is a record in the mold of Aphex Twin with a powerful skipping beat that is the trademark of this German hotshot. At times it is intense, monotonous, technically complicated but never dull. From the ambient-tinged “The Lower Upside Down” to the Kevin Sanderson styled (and humorously titled) “Another Wedged Chicken”, one really needs a dark Berlin club in an office block to really appreciate the euphoric highs and beats that wind you. However, even out of that setting Shedding the Past stands up on its own. Detroit techno’s originators may have hailed from Bellville, Michigan but the techno sound was inspired by any number of German electronic musicians, most notably Kraftwerk. Therefore it is fitting that a German engineer should pick up the ball first punted by the Bellville Three and run with it to score a try of his own.
Those Gorillaz have returned in the guise of a completely different primate. This one comes complete with a tale and a fully furred opera in tow. Who would have thought that Damon Albarn had an opera in him? In fairness, it is not strictly speaking an opera. It is a spectacle theatre piece that has more in common with Cirque du Soleil than Glyndebourne. Albarn and fellow gorilla Jamie Hewlett have created a nine-scene show that is a mixture of acrobatics, kung fu, lush sets, and the music contained on this recording. This stage production has proved to be quite popular in the United Kingdom. The dear old BBC adapted a track, complete with a specially made Jamie Hewlett animation, to promote their coverage of the Beijing Olympics. Furthermore, tickets soon go on sale for a special run at the O2 “Millennium” Dome, just like Prince. Things are looking good.
MONKEY
JOURNEY TO THE WEST
XL
2008-09-23
The show is wholly inspired by a 16th century Chinese novel by Wu Cheng’en. His book was made famous to every British schoolboy in the late 1970s by a live action version called Monkey that was made in Japanese but dubbed into English by the BBC. It was required viewing in those days, and most 40-year old children still have a soft spot for it in their hearts, I’m sure. Hence Albarn’s interest; hence the show’s popularity.
So much for the stage show, what about the record? Journey to the West the album is confusingly a “soundtrack” based upon, but not a direct recording of, the musical. Quite how that makes it a soundtrack is beyond me. It is a compilation of 22 vignettes that presumably evoke a scene in the stage production, most of which clock in at around the two-minute mark. The tracks don’t quite stand up on their own, unsupported by the spectacle of the 70 Chinese acrobats and martial artists cavorting on sets designed by the creator of Tank Girl. But as with everything, there are exceptions to this sweeping generalization.
The brevity of the songs may cause consternation, but is often a blessing. Some of the tracks on this release are almost painful to listen to. “Confessions of a Pig” springs to mind with its guttural vocal littered with glottal stops. It sounds as if this particular pig smoked 40 cigarettes a day. “The White Skeleton Demon” starts off like Mussorgsky and ends up like the shower scene in Psycho. Soundtrack recordings are designed to partner the visuals, whether they are film or theatre soundtracks. Without the visual aspect there is a dimension missing.
“Heavenly Beach Banquet” and “Monkey Bee” are the tracks that would be considered “songs” in a parallel world where Damon Albarn wasn’t trying to destroy every last centimetre of cool that he once had. There once was a time that this boy from Leytonstone could do no wrong musically, but now he works really hard to erode the pop icon status that the media awarded him. A fictitious simian pop band here, a world music record there, and add a dash of supergroup with no name for good measure. Who needs fame when he’s got art? With this recording he is clearly at it again. After the ten or so listens I have given this recording, I am still hard pressed to think of an occasion when I would willingly play it. Unless you have actually seen the show, this record makes no musical sense.
The cynical among you (I know you are out there) would probably describe this as a cash-in release. It’s a souvenir record that amounts to little more than an audible programme that affords you the pleasure of reliving the event in the leisure of your own home. Safe in the comfort of your own surroundings, you can pause the tunes while you take a bathroom break, instead of holding it in for fear of missing something. At home, you can skip the stuff you don’t like, instead of stifling a yawn in order not to appear uncultured. At home you can file the thing away, leave it there, and put its purchase down to experience.
How this album will fare in parts of the world where it is impossible to see the show is uncertain, of course. Perhaps it will act as a prelude in these territories, albeit one that may scare off some punters. I will wager that fans of Blur will buy this regardless and enjoy it whether they like it or not. Other pop fans are more likely to see through the emperor’s new clothes and call this for what it is: mostly weak but with a couple of monkey magic moments.
What can be said about Arthur Brown that hasn’t been said a million times already? He is the archetype of the one-hit wonder. He is the rocker with wild onstage antics that have almost got him and others maimed and ultimately had him kicked off a tour with Jimi Hendrix. For the last 40 years he has been known as the man that screamed at the top of his voice, “I am the god of hellfire”, at the beginning of the only song he is known for.
THE AMAZING WORLD OF ARTHUR BROWN
THE VOICE OF LOVE
Zoho
2008-06-10
He has been residing in the “where are they now” file for many years. Apparently he has filled his time working as a painter and decorator in Austin, Texas or training to be a counselor. He has also turned out the occasional record, although none of these recordings really made any dent in the common consciousness. In contrast this album might just capture the imagination of quite a few.
Despite his vocal performance on “Fire” being spotless, Brown may not be so well known for the sheer vocal range and volume that he has in those pipes. On The Voice of Love he belts out the 11 tracks with such power that I was in fear of losing all the glassware in my house. Sometimes putting so much force into his singing, he overshadows the acoustic backing track. On these occasions it has the unfortunate effect of making him sound like he is singing in the bath to an instrumental version of the song on a radio in another room. Those moments notwithstanding, The Voice of Love is still a robust collection of songs.
There are few pop tunes here with a catchy chorus that stick in your brain. Of the original songs is the short, cute, and familiar-sounding “Shining Bright”. This song’s refrain “I need nobody now / I need no one and nothing / I need nobody now / seeing me shining bright” is an ode to Brown shying away from public adoration. It is almost as if he is explaining why he has not topped the rock world for the last 40 years. He is unapologetically saying that the music is what it is all about for him and not the trappings that come with it. He has been there, now he just wants to make music because it is what he enjoys.
This collection includes original songs and a few covers. The most prominent of these is Brown’s take on another one-hit wonder’s song “Kites”, originally by Simon Dupree and the Big Sound. He turns this piece of psychedelia into a quirky love song. It takes a while, you are not sure whether you have heard it before, but then it comes to you that it is indeed a cover. Otis Redding’s “That’s How Strong My Love Is” also gets the Brown treatment, slowed down and with a slightly lower-key vocal in the outset, but not for long. Towards the end of the song Brown lets rip completely, performing vocal acrobatics showing off the full range that this 66-year old can muster. This fella has got a lot in him and it makes you wonder why he has been sidelined for such a long time.
The sleeve notes make much of the recording methodology. Brown recorded this album on two-inch master tape using live performances throughout and the original vocal take wherever possible. Despite the protestations to the contrary, this is anything but a low-fi recording. It is crystal-clear, if a bit wobbly in the vocal department on occasion. Yet you can really forgive the odd misfire, due to the audacity of screeching a Glen Hughes-style, metal-god wail over a ukulele. It almost works and is very entertaining.
To say that this is the best album that Brown has done since 1968’s Fire is meaningless. The potential that was shown back then has been realized in this release. The Voice of Love has been 40 years in the making. Despite a few idiosyncrasies, it has been worth the wait.
The cover of Bloodlines looks like it was lifted from an episode of the X-Files.
LOWLIGHT
BLOODLINE
Wabi Sabi
2008-04-10
It draws you in with its mystery, two people running into the light. They are running into the unknown, running from something equally unknown and unknowable. The pity is that when you play the album you are confronted by drab, uninteresting songs performed in such a nasal way that you wonder if the singer has had rhinoplasty in order to achieve it. The songs are pretty much all about unrequited love or break ups or “why don’t any of the nice girls like me” and other whinges. “Timesick Blues” nearly became good when it started to sound like The The’s “Uncertain Smile”, albeit stripped of any imagination and creativity. In fact it is pretty easy to work out what the people on the cover are running away from.
With track titles such as “Misunderstood”, “Here I Am”, and “Looking for Love” CIAM are pushing the right buttons for the disaffected youth. Jeff Shapiro’s vocals are a predictable baritone on most of the tracks, sounding not unlike a young Wayne Hussey at times. Furthermore, a spotty teenager with no friends probably wrote the lyrics. Not a great start.
CIAM
ANONYMOUS
Ciam Music
2007-11-15
However, the music and the production are where Anonymous wins points. Anonymous is a sumptuously produced collection of electronic sounds with a doom-laden almost old-school “goth” sound that has veins filled with modern fire. CIAM seem an idealistic bunch that want to restructure the landscape of music. With this release they have not broken any new ground yet but I suspect that they have won a healthy bunch of fans. Not least of all because the album is just plain free if you go to ciammusic.com or you could buy it for $8.99 from Amazon.com — a tough choice to be made. This is an interesting business model. Perhaps they plan to make all their money on t-shirt sales.
However, one should listen to the album with caution for there is a bump in the road that may just throw you off your bike. Anonymous contains a cover version of the Velvet Underground classic “Venus in Furs”. If ever there was a list of songs that should NEVER be covered this one would be on it. CIAM have unforgivably taken this song, sucked out the atmosphere and rocked it up. They rocked up “Venus in Furs”! This reviewer shakes his head and walks away gloomily.
