Anyone can play guitar eh? Anyone it seems except Radiohead. Amnesiac was recorded at the same studio sessions that produced 'Kid A' and in reality, this album is the sorry sequel to that mixed up affair. Where Radiohead could have developed on that tatty mess and produced something more worthwhile they instead opt for an altogether disjointed approach yet again. Sequels should show some progression but inexplicably Radiohead have conjured up a monument to regression. From the word go something is amiss. 'Packt Like Sardines In A Crushd Tin Box' could easily be a cut from a chilled out trance album. Why Radiohead would ever wish to outdo someone like Ferry Corsten is beyond me. Are they simply bored by their musical roots, are they trying to cash in on the dance craze, have they completely lost the plot? So many questions, so few answers.

The reworking of 'Morning Bell' is utterly pointless. Thom Yorke had spoken of a radical departure from the version on 'Kid A' but it sounds pretty much the same. 'Morning Bell' was one of 'Kid A's better moments but hearing it again adds nothing to Amnesiac. The first single 'Pyramid Song' has all necessary paranoia required to make it a winner but it lacks that robotic charm required to leave a lasting impression. It is one of those songs that takes aeons to sink in but watching the video for it certainly boosts its charm. One of the mild successes in an album of wretched failures. 'Pulk/Pull Revolting Doors' is surely the most nondescript pieces of music that Radiohead have ever produced. It is made from an idea that the Boards Of Canada would have quickly discarded. With Thom Yorke sounding like he's swallowed one too many helium filled balloons, it is an unrivalled duck egg. 'You and Whose Army' is slightly better but Yorke again sounds freakish. Without trying to be cruel it could easily be the elephant man on vocals. Matters are not made any better when the piano accompaniment sounds like it has drifted eerily from the back room of Bates Motel.

I remember hearing 'The National Anthem' and all I could hear was a good riff and precious little else. 'I Might Be Wrong' is in the same category. Here the riff is not as encompassing (but I guess at least it's a riff) and the electro beats take from it's listenability. Yorke again plumps for vocals that are close to being hallucinogenically detached. There are sparse moments on 'Amnesiac' that befit the Radiohead of old. 'Dollar and Cents' lives and breaths cruel intentions, the chopping guitars providing a perfect backdrop for Thom Yorke's voice which for once is given license to showcase it's quality. 'Knives Out' is laced with a smooth groove, the underdone but wholesome drumming is joined by an intricate guitar progression and a solemn vocal delivery. Both Ed O’Brien and Jonny Greenwood are largely unemployed throughout the whole of the proceedings. It's the sort of album that could have been created quite easily by a single person in a home studio. 'Like Spinning Plates' for example, has a tune that is playing in reverse. The surreal space noises that float in and out of the mix certainly sound different, but rather than being challenging you get the sense that the whole thing is meaningless rubbish imagined by a recluse who should get out more. 'Like Spinning Plates' could have sounded better if that little thing called melody had been introduced.

'Hunting Bears' is the sound of a lone guitar and some shards of bass slowly concocting a Ry Cooder studio jam. It's not too bad but then again put in the context of this album it is entirely worthless. 'Life In A Glasshouse' closes the album. A hybrid jazz funk piece with a skewed trumpet coursing through its veins it is not particularly interesting unless you're into that sort of thing. A pretty mess is the closest one could get to describing it. As it and the album peters out the pain of disappointment is hard to dispel. I'm all for innovation but in Radiohead's case they seem to have totally forgotten what made them so incredibly special in the first place (hence the title?). With a genuine tear in my eye, 'Amnesiac' gets the thumbs down. The lyrics 'Oh no Pop is dead, long live Pop' now seem truly apt.

Rating: 5/10

25 FREE Downloads. eMusic for your iPod® or any MP3 player

The Hartnoll’s used to be punks and once in a while they drop their guard to reveal the anger that so beautifully propelled that movement. With a vast electronic discography behind them you'd have thought that their rebellious side might have diminished. Listening to the Altogether however, it is obvious that there is still a big fire burning in their collective bellies. Take the album's opener 'Tension' as an example. Painting a fraught picture of bleak landscapes, the tunes driving beat careers out of control while the nondescript harsh vocal splices emits skinhead anger. While this may all sound quite interesting the reality is that 'Tension' leaves the listener somewhat detached and cold. Perhaps this was the intention because the next track 'Funny Break (One Is Enough)' is much more amiable. Ok, it may clatter along like an alley with too many trashcans but everything is glued wonderfully together by Naomi Bedford's feisty vocals that intermittedly descend from the heavens.

'Tootled' is rather disappointing. As skeletal as the skulls on the album's cover, it just about gathers the bare essentials without ever coming close to being inventive. Like 'Tension' there is a sinister undercurrent that is periodically exposed when the raging vocal vents its spleen. The song is apparently Orbital's homage to US metal band Tool with whom they've toured with. Thankfully 'Oi!' is a bit more meaty. The heavy bass like riff sets the scene and the assorted bleeps and cackles add generous spicy accompaniments. Nothing groundbreaking but groovy all the same with a minute Ian Dury sample thrown in for good measure. Midway through the album the quality quotient is bolstered by the impressive 'Doctor ?'. Perfectly evoking the aura of space travel it is the pillar in an album desperately seeking a tune that reaches for the stars. 'The Altogether' too often drags it's heels but 'Doctor ?' sounds genuinely exciting. Pity then that the best tune on the album is in fact a cover of the Doctor Who? series theme. 'Last Thing' takes the traditional Orbital template of big beats being swallowed whole by bursting rhythms and augmenting it with some beautifully serene female vocals. One can only marvel at how swell this would sound on stage. 'Shadows' is the sound of an adventure taking place in some underwater plankton forest, the frolicking chimes just bubble nicely along with playful keyboard waves adding a degree of mystique.

If 'Waving Not Drowning' was released as a single it could become the weirdest summer anthem ever. It has a huge dance potential and a skewed trippy beat that is positively intoxicating. Imagine the wackiest piece of Irish music you've ever heard put through a Hammond and you'll get the idea. 'Pay Per View' is pedestrian and limp, lounge music for people who couldn't care less. Things get even worse when 'Illuminate' rears it's nostalgic head. Sounding like a latter day Giorgio Morodor track with realistic MOR leanings it seems totally out of context. The ubiquitous David Gray (the Hartnolls brother-in-law!) provides the vocals and sadly the tune is forgotten as soon as it fades out.

Orbital have a glorious history of closing off their albums with an epic number ('Attached', 'Belfast' and 'Out There Somewhere' being prime examples). This perhaps applies a greater sheen to their long players than they truly deserve but who cares when climax's like these are so perfect. 'Meltdown' is the latest instalment but unfortunately the X factor is missing. Normally the disparate parts seamlessly gel to beguile the listener. On 'Meltdown' there is so much going on it is hard to stitch the piece together. So in the end it all gets a little raggle taggle leading to a confusing rather than a joyous listen. 'Meltdown' is not without its moments though. The computer keypad beats are wonderful and the last 2 and a half minutes contain some dazzling digital beats. 'The Altogether' is never more than a satisfactory listen. It needs one or two more genuinely thrilling tracks to make it memorable. It's just a case of the Hartnoll Brothers standing still when what the world needs is that unrestrained masterpiece they have threatened to produce for almost a decade. So with precious little progression and a lack of tunes that really cut the mustard 'The Altogether' ends up being a minor disappointment.

Rating: 6/10

25 FREE Downloads. eMusic for your iPod® or any MP3 player

Orbital are true originals. The album's they create suggest a bigger talent than is obvious on their single releases. For over a decade they grabbed dance music by the neck and gave it the 3rd degree in how proceedings should be run effectively. To a large extent they cajoled previously disinterested individuals into believing that with a bit of imagination, anything is possible, even within the realms of a genre prone to large-scale anonymity. Snivilisation is wrapped in a grey cover with an oh so clumsy animation that hides the fact that on the inside the music is anything but. It’s hard to beat 'Forever' as an opener, flitting as it does between cool keyboard strokes and fluid spacey noises. It seems ready-made for its creators, the Hartnoll brothers, whose on stage persona of bobbing heads while tweaking instructions through banks of technology would have sat easily on Hal’s musical memory banks.

'Sad But True' best represents an industrial dance scene that has disappeared without trace but was quite prominent in the early to mid-nineties. This movement didn’t offer an awful lot but 'Sad But True' is a little reminder that it had some worth. 'Crash And Carry' is the token jumped up techno track with obligatory jungle sounding motif. Not too clever but a nice change of momentum for the album all the same. 'Science Friction' is a lot more pleasing. A delicate key arrangement tinkles in the background as a bumbling but plush synth movement carries the tune forward with gusto. 'Kein Trink Wasser' opens up with a piano hailstorm but changes tact, adopting a neat electro spin that sounds delicious before returning to its roots near the end. It is one of the few tracks on Snivilisation that is instantly accessible.

The convoluted vocals are the first thing that makes you sit up and take notice on 'Are We Here'. You might be asking the same question after sitting through its full 15 minutes duration. This is a mite excessive but when the song's power overwhelms you, it may not even seem adequate. At first 'Are We Here' conjures up scenes of slowed down cavalries of marauding robots, pillaging the land while we cower in underground bunkers. The beat that drives it has a trashcan type rumble. About half way in things go supernova as the super light gravity-defying chime dangles great slices of inventive rhythms. The scene changes as the steel carcasses we've slain are used to weld spectacular buildings that are surrounded by newly developed green belts.

The funny thing about Orbital is that tend to leave the best track on their albums until the end. At least that was the case on 'Insides' where the technocolour of 'Out There Somewhere' appeared. And who could forget the beauty of 'Belfast' so eloquently appearing at the end of 'Orbital 1'. So, somewhat on cue 'Attached' closes Snivilisation with glorious splendour. It a towering inferno of a tune resembling something sent back from an advanced race of people thriving in outer space. 'Attached' spits out laser guided blocks of sound while an electric derived choir shapes the tunes beautifully formed contours. It demonstrates the Hartnoll's ability to somehow shatter their own universally high standards. ‘Attached' raises the stakes on an album that may have suffered a little without its ability to put a perfect seal on proceedings.

Orbital are one of the purest purveyors of intelligent dance beats. Snivilisation will never have you shaking your body uncontrollably; a mature salsa romp is a more likely outcome. At times you may feel cheated by its complicated stand but there is so much to enjoy once you've become familiar with its subtleties. Snivilisation was made possible by technology but made wonderful by a very human inventiveness.

Rating: 7.5/10

25 FREE Downloads. eMusic for your iPod® or any MP3 player

This was the Frank and Walters third album and besides one successful single the elusive charts remained a faraway rainbow. The album may have had a more po-faced outlook, but luckily the intrinsic Frank and Walters's ingredients were intact. Melody is king and while some of the new directions raised a few eyebrows the pristine output is the proof positive that these 3 lads were made to be stars. Beauty Becomes More Than Life is not a wholly serious album but for the second time in their careers the Franks have put their heads down and created a mature (what?), at times electro (eek!) but overall a wonderfully likeable (phew!) album. As usual the tunes are purified but are perhaps not as immediate as their predecessors. So now there are things going on below the surface that accord a greater longevity. And now the soundscape is beautifully augmented throughout by the addition of keyboards.

At first you don't spot the groove in 'Don't Stop' but after some time it'll probably be the best thing you've ever heard. Well, almost. Then there's 'Time We Said Goodnight', that at first light sounds almost ineffectual but as dusk falls its building block approach has become the stuff of greatness. Check out the people's anthem 'Castaway' and you have a song that could've helped Hanks through his ordeal. Signs of a different direction come in the form of '7:30', all sparkly beats and spliced vocals that have no right to be so infectious that early in the morning. There are also songs cut from the same cloth that gave us so many precious moments on the first 2 albums. 'Plenty Times' is a bustling, sweet, industrious little number that'll flag down the happy busman and chat with him until the wee hours about types of buckets and all the people he knows named Jim. 'Take Me Through This Life' suffers slightly from a plodding drum beat but the jangling guitar and vocals parts save the day. 'Woman' is more straight forward syrupy pop but its theme of a man hating woman is evidence of the Franks broaching subjects that were up until now avoided.

The Franks and Walters deserve much more than the world has dished them out. An unsympathetic music press unwilling to see beyond the opening guise have to take a lot of the blame. Go see the Frank and Walters in concert and watch the unadulterated joy of the spectacle. Glee Pop that won't change your life but will very likely put a smile on your face and send a tingle down your spine, surely the central reward for listening to pop music. Let them not be lost to the 9 to 5 robotic mass. Go forth Linehans and Co. your loyal servants will be yours until the end.

Rating: 6.5/10

25 FREE Downloads. eMusic for your iPod® or any MP3 player

Riding on the back some impressive critical reactions, I went out and bought this album without even hearing a single track. I always find this exciting, as you never really know what to expect when the laser hits the groove. More often than not if there is a common consensus that an album is quality it's worth taking the risk. If you were to try and classify Death In Vegas then Primal Scream wouldn't be that far off the mark. The fact that Bobby Gillespie guest vocals on 'Soul Auctioneer' only proves that there is a mutual admiration society going on between the 2 bands. It's just a pity Sir Bob had to pick such a weak track to add his tuppence worth. It is just the right side of dull but is as forgettable as an ageing goldfish.

The celebrity love-in continues with 'Aisha' sung by Iggy Pop. It has all the ingredients of a wild, dirty weekend and is positively menacing. But then, that wallowing far-eastern snake charmer sound finds an extra gear to lift the mix to the next level and suddenly everything makes sense. Enthralling is hardly descriptive enough. Jim Reid also lends a hand on vocals on 'Broken Little Sister', which is similar to those impressive Jesus & Mary Chain's slow burners of old. Richard Fearless certainly has a knack of making friends in the right places. The desert drawl of 'Dirge' is the Contino Sessions standout track. It has a hypnotic groove generated by the sweetest guitar strum and cowgirl vocals by the divine Dot Allison. Every smoke filled indie dive should have it on its pre-gig playlist. There are sublime Orbital leanings on 'Flying', all oblique synth moments on a bed of crispy fresh guitars. This music is so dead cool and unassuming you could be forgiven for thinking the heavens had opened up and given us a taste of what's going on, on the great turntable in the sky.

Then there is the brilliant summer breeze ditty called 'Aladdin's Story'. It is a straight down the line near instrumental that provides a little light relief after the previous tracks which are a little uncompromising. Also easy on the ear is the Velvet Underground/Clinic fused 'Neptune City'. This is a psychedelic trip that oozes class. The Contino Sessions is the soundtrack to the coolest lounge bar around. It is mature electronica which would suit those not out for an immediate aural fix. Those who flash 'Tune' placards over their fluorescent heads will be sorely disappointed. Those enamoured with Screamadelica type indie-dance crossovers will be more than satisfied.

Rating: 6.5/10

25 FREE Downloads. eMusic for your iPod® or any MP3 player

David Kitt had already released a mini-album that he recorded in his bedroom (if you are about to tune out, hang on it's worth it I promise you!) by the time he got around to releasing this, his proper debut. The e.p. title 'Small Moments' featured 'Another Love Song' that has attained legendary status in his hometown (Dublin) and more particularly his favourite venue, Whelan's of Wexford Street. David Kitt is the son of politician but thankfully his songs are based on more trivial matters. While Kitt grabs all the attention, some recognition must be given to his band. Diarmuid Mac Diarmada whose inspirational moments on the sax and clarinet are omnipresent on the album. Paul Smyth is the electronic wizard who has helped reshape Kitt's sound from its earthy lo-fi beginnings.

David Kitt's vocals aren't exactly unique. They resemble an modern Nick Drake (yeah another one!) and give off the impression of a master not having to reach too hard to find his range. In saying that they are wonderfully balanced and after a time they really stick in your head. Perfect for those drizzly winter mornings stuck in traffic when you're in need of a comfort fix (in other words every morning in Dublin). The album opens with 'Hope Street (Brooklyn, N.Y.)' which has been tried and tested over several years of constant gigging. It is perhaps Kitt's most obvious song, with the most primitive of beats and a circular guitar ensemble backing up the singers dried off deep fried vocals. While it might not add up to much initially, don't underestimate the power of this tune. It will lodge in your consciousness with all the accuracy of a colt 45.

Like drifting snow 'You know what i want to know' is likely to blind you to all else. There are searching brass interludes but it's the jingling guitar that Kitt's voice uses as a marker to ram the point home. At this stage you'll have noticed that most of Kitt's material runs in a loop, turning over the same ground incessantly for 4 or 5 minutes. While this doesn't sound great on paper, the reality on vinyl is close to breathtaking. While the opening 2 songs have a cock sure momentum, 'Step Outside In The Morning Light' drops down a gear. You can hear a little of Chicago in its make-up. The plinking keys and textured bleeps do upgrade the sound a little thankfully. Some tweeness and light never hurt anyone anyway. Incidentally this track originally appeared on the aforementioned 'Small Moments' e.p. in a slightly different guise.

Things go a tad atmospheric on 'Private Dance'. For once the vocals don't hog the spotlight. Instead the songs landscape is painted by a innovative approach to blending disparate sounds. It is quite short but signals where the u-bend appears in the albums direction. 'Pale Blue Light' starts out like a David Gray quick step but as Kitt introduces himself you realise first impressions can be deceiving. 'Pale Blue Light' is semi-shambolic in style, the bass is dull, the drumming is plain and the keyboard drones are unremarkable. It has a chorus of sorts but it's just too minimal to disguise the feeling of disappointment. Thankfully 'Pale Blue Light' is the lowest point on 'The Big Romance'. From there on in the recovery is remarkable. 'What I Ask' is the sound of a genius at work. With help from Sinead O'Connor and the underrated Nina Hynes 'What I Ask' blends pure harmony with a cacophony of guitar licks that could go on from now till dawn and still sound refreshing. At full tilt the song spits out diagonal shards of sounds at will, as it wilts the serene edge is masterful.

In an album with so many twists and turns it comes as no surprise that 'Strange Light' slows the pace down again. All you get is Kitt with acoustic guitar while Smyth throws in an array of electronic bleeps and skirmishes. 'Whispers Return The Sun' comes at the tail end of 'Strange Light' before it has fully bid farewell. Once again the ante and the quality is raised. There is a cosy familiar feel to the way the words are delivered but the melody is heaven sent. The xylophone moments are inspired, in fact the song could provide the soundtrack to the most precious moment you experience next Christmas. 'You And The City' could easily to bracketed into several different genres such is the disparity of sounds at work. Just as it seems to have carved out a thread, it completely changes tact. The unnerving violin screeches, the blisteringly catchy keys, the sunken vocal emotions and a dozen shades of atmospheric last stands make up a remarkable lavish opus.

At the end 'Into The Breeze' is left with a lot of work to tie up all the loose ends. In some ways it proves to be the albums most consistent song. There is a start, a middle and an end. Building with each new layer of spiritualised organic manoeuvres it is hard to quell the feeling of absolute happiness that the song embellishes. Appropriately the fuzzy electric's are superseded by Kitt himself. The Big Romance sits easily beside the better Irish Records released in the new millenium. Laidback has rarely been this inventive, this is the perfect soundtrack for those fragile small moments. Forget there's a big bad world outside, this is the CD equivalent of an open hearth fire.

Rating: 9/10

25 FREE Downloads. eMusic for your iPod® or any MP3 player

In the early noughties it seemed as if electronica was about to become the frontrunner in throwing up the best emerging artists. At the head of pack was Four Tet, Boards Of Canada, Mum and Canada's Manitoba. The latter's 'Up In Flames' (2003) was a joie de vivre romp through the mind of Dan Snaith. You could picture him in a small room with a clapped out computer dreaming up songs about crayons and living on a dirt road. A bizarre lawsuit over naming rights meant that Snaith had to rename his band Caribou. Thankfully the change was cosmetic only as 'The Milk Of Human Kindness' rivals 'Up In Flames' for musical sorties of the digital kind. There is a slight shift away from Spaceman 3/early Spiritualized psychedelia that so empowered ‘Up In Flames’ but the songs retain an abundance of melody delivered in an off-kilter slant.

As is Caribou’s nature the tunes come in two formats. The laidback instrumental with a hint of under-the-breath vocals or the elegantly wasted one without the humans. ‘Hello Hammerheads’ is an example of the former as Snaith hums his way through a notepad of love scrawls while a gentle riff supplies the atmosphere. ‘Bees’ treads a more distant time, the bass nuances are direct from a forgotten 70’s cop show, the wooden flute appears like a message in a bottle from the Isle of Wight while the incomprehensible words show us it’s a production from this planet. ‘Yeti’ is slimline, pared down Caribou. For once the extras are trimmed to leave a lean approximation of electronic cool. The looping keyboard drones add the necessary suspense but the guiding light is Snaith’s vocals that sit comfortably alongside the artificial flow. ‘Barnowl’ will have you howling for Snaith to get out of the grass such is the cloaked menace that it inspires. A Laetitia Sadlier type vocal augments the hypnotic arrangements. If all of this gets too much to take there are fragments of songs like ‘Drumheller’ to act as a sorbet before the next avalanche of ideas. The Mellotron designed violin sounds like the vinyl recording has buckled until the hopelessly gorgeous guitars swamp the glorious mess. And watch out for the cello plucks at the end, it’ll have you picturing Ollie, below zero, in the snow.

There are a clutch of distractions to rattle the taste buds like the 19th century Vienna alleyway cast off ‘Lord Leopard’ and the laboured ‘A Final Warning’ that while initially intriguing loses its appeal at the 5-minute mark. ‘Pelican Narrows’ is equally disappointing, like it should have stayed by the shore of that lake with all those swans. To counter these inefficiencies there are explosions of exhilaration like the wonderous ‘Brahminy Kite’ which floods the senses with enough beats to have drum and bass fans flummoxed. The words are minimal but perfectly realised and the assorted backdrop of squelches, reindeer bells and synthesized brass could surely have even the drunkest swaying in time. This is certainly one of the most fulfilling caches of musical compositions and every time you hear it you’ll feel like it’s your birthday.

Caribou are by no means tied to their electronic devices, seeing them live is an illuminating experience as the dual drummers whip the skins with such ferocity that all you see and hear is a whirl of hands and perfectly synchronised beats. There are guitars too, flashing in and out of consciousness like pleasant mushroom flashbacks. The live visuals supplied by Dublin's Del9 are also a treat, perfectly illustrating the music, adding dimensions you could easily miss without them. 'The Milk Of Human Kindness' brims with good tunes that are just begging to be exploited by a savvy ad man. It will appeal to those normally put off by electronica's oft intension to bury the goodies so deep that only the most ardent of listeners are fulfilled. The fact that the vocals aren't squeezed through a tangle of wires makes the music even more tangible. Caribou play it simply by polishing a good idea until it's ready to hatch, all the listener has got to do is enjoy the crack.

Rating: 7.5/10

Watch The Video To Yeti

25 FREE Downloads. eMusic for your iPod® or any MP3 player

If you've never seen her, she is exactly how you would have imagined. Right down to those fake pearl tears on the cover of Debut, Bjork is an enigma in that special way that popstars can get away with. Back in 1993 when Debut was released she was voted babe of the year in NME and judging by the stunning shots on this and the single 'Big Time Sensuality' it's hard not to argue. Bjork made her first recording aged 13. She had been a member of the Sugarcubes before she went solo. The Sugarcubes spun off beat dramas that defined an alternative market in the mid-late eighties struggling to find its feet. Bjork's talent was their distinctive selling point though and they may have suffered without her powerful vigour.

Debut is infused with a huge dance sensibility. A lot of the tracks have appeared elsewhere in altogether different guises, suitable for packing dancefloors en masse. Most of the time, these reworkings are loyal to their inspiration and dutifully prove how powerful the original recordings are. The first sign of Bjork's solo output was 'Big Time Sensuality' that came complete with 5 remixes. It has a didgeridoo electronic beat that skips frothily for its duration. Bjork doesn't croon, she just adds suitable splices of cool vocals.

'Violently Happy' creeps up on you like a wayward iceberg and knocks you for six as the delicious white hot beat distils pure alcohol into your shaking torso. It is overwhelming stuff made all the more bearable by the perfect comedown of 'Venus As A Boy'. The song has the comfort of a candle in a dark cave but the warmth of the vocals wrap you in the fur of a fresh bear kill. Just when you think you have a handle on Bjork's vocal range she disappears beyond the horizon. Those put off by the notion of a beat fantastic album shouldn't worry because Debut is much more than this. For every 'Violently Happy' there are at least a couple of seamless vehicles for Bjork's astonishing voice. 'Play Dead' for example boasts a huge orchestral wall of sound and a chorus that wonderfully climbs to the summit of her vocal range. 'There's More To Life Than This' has more than a Moloko ring about it, but then this was released aeons before they had honed their sound.

Elsewhere 'Come To Me' contains all the trappings of a fairytale with the requisite plinking dew drops, distant wailing strings and little red riding hood pretensions. It sashes by with enormous clarity, charming is too underwhelming a word to describe it. 'Aeroplane' is beautifully uneven and hints at that 'It's Oh So Quiet' theme that her second album would so successfully adopt. Listen to 'The Anchor Song' and you can imagine village life. As the prayers for returning fisherman are answered the most serene of lives continue happily as the outside world scrambles for a few hundred more worthless shares, squashing the weaker in society underfoot in the process. There is a natural feel to the album despite all the technology employed. On occasions, like on the rather shallow 'One Day' Bjork drops her quality guard. To recompense the white label take of this song is close to perfection. 'Crying' is another notable disappointment with a vacuous centre, but hey there is a neat doodling session near the finish that almost saves the day.

Aside from these momentary lapses this is a fantastic debut that you should own for its individuality, inner self-belief and consistent wide-eyed arrangements. Where else could you find a disc that will have you dancing, sleeping and crying within the space of a half an hour? Why the next Bjork release of course!

Rating: 8/10


25 FREE Downloads. eMusic for your iPod® or any MP3 player

The first thing about Architecture in Helsinki is that, as far as music groups go, they have the best name yet. So modern, so cosmopolitan, so nothing whatsoever to do with an indie collective from Melbourne. It’s perfect. The second thing about Architecture in Helsinki is that, when it comes to the conventions of song structure, they have some authority issues. Verse, chorus, repeat, middle eight, yadda yadda yadda? The hell with that; let’s go for parts 1 to 4. Nothing too prog rock or anything, mind. But I mean, with three minutes to play with, why limit yourself to just one pop song? Why not four?

The opener, ‘Neverevereverdid’ settles for just three parts; (i) a soundtrack to a hammy horror movie; (ii) a number from a school play where the kids who didn’t own instruments were allowed raid their kitchen for any utensils that might make a noise when struck; (iii) an erratic yet jaunty piano-driven chorus/verse/chorus, you know like, a song. It’s all rather breakneck and breathtaking; there are more ideas packed into this one song than you’ll find on an entire album from the next set of NME-sponsored guys with ties. It’s not that Architecture In Helsinki like to dwell too long on anything, though. At the end of the second part, as the rattling pots and pans quicken with the introduction of the drums and a danceable bassline, I found myself bracing for take-off and guitars to rock in, only for all the build-up to be swept away and replaced by the wonky piano. It was like getting absorbed in some T.V. programme only for someone else in the room to change the channel.

The catchiest tune here is ‘Wishbone’, at least for a minute, with its tambourine style and harmonies from ‘Grease’. A fiddle melody to swoon to arrives at the second verse, only for the momentum to be cut short, bizarrely, by a brief lullaby which brings the song to a dead stop. Before starting up again. The interruptions are milder on ‘It’s 5’, another joyous pop song clocking in at two minutes; this one with a wonderful ending as the instrumentation cuts back a notch for some group effort ‘It! Is! 5!’ shouts. ‘Tiny Paintings’ has a similar finish as the keyboards are put on hold for singer Cameron Bird to yell, ‘I found you in the lost and found’, before the keyboards come back to finish the job with an allsorts assortment of percussion.

‘In Case We Die’ is an avalanche of attention-grabbing moments and quirky, clever touches. It must have been a marketer’s dream to pick the thirty-second taster snippets to sell the album on, with set-pieces like the extra beat as the record appears to skip in the verse of ‘Do The Whirlwind’, in between a brass solo and a sitar solo, or the silly voice, then the list of names, then the pedal steel guitar on ‘The Cemetery’. It counts as some relief that they take a couple of breathers during all this. ‘Maybe You Can Owe Me’ falls somewhere between wistful and chilled out, as lyrically they finally move on from the random-phrase-generator and betray some emotion, bracing for a future rendezvous between a couple with a past. A little loose time is even conceded at the end for the guitar and spacey computer effects to meander and dissolve away. Later, on the delicious ‘Need To Shout’, the sound approaches a maturity bordering on relaxed, with a mellow cocktail of tropical bird calls, woodwind and steel drums, where even the shouts seems distant under the haze of rum and moonlight.

For Architecture in Helsinki, however, these laid-back songs are merely breaks, and playtime is the order of the day. Their live performances see them swapping instruments mid-song and dashing frantically around the stage as if their boundless creativity could not be contained, or perhaps as if something brighter and shinier caught their eye. ‘In Case We Die’ reminds me of a kid on Christmas morning ripping the cellophane off one toy before having got the batteries in another, or, in words culled from Dave Eggers’ autobiography: ‘…a music video, a game show on Nickelodeon – lots of quick cuts, crazy camera angles, fun, fun, fun! It’s a campaign of distraction… fireworks, funny dances, magic tricks. Whassat? Lookie there! Where’d it go?’


Tony Kelleher
26.01.2006


Rating: 6.5/10



25 FREE Downloads. eMusic for your iPod® or any MP3 player