Bastille – Wild World

Like a lot of people around my age, I was pretty heavily into Bastille’s debut Bad Blood when it came out. I remember having songs like ‘Things We Lost in the Fire’ and ‘Bad Blood’ on repeat, and loving the album’s connections to mythology (‘Icarus’) and pop-culture (‘Laura Palmer’). It’s only been three years since that album came out, but it feels like a hell of a lot longer… Perhaps it’s because Bastille has been touring that album pretty much non-stop since its release, or because everyone has been so eager to see how the band’s second album will turn out. ‘How will they follow up Bad Blood?’

And, in short, the answer to that question is ‘by giving us more of the same’. Wild World doesn’t do much that the band’s first album didn’t – the only somewhat noteworthy additions are guitars and movie quotes – and many of the songs from the album feel like they could fit comfortably onto Bad Blood and vice versa.

This isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but it’s a bit disappointing. Since my obsession with Bad Blood, I’ve gotten into loads of other bands – many of them much better than Bastille – and so what worked for me in 2013 doesn’t really work for me as much now. I’d like to stress that this isn’t a bad pop album – in fact, it’s a really competent one, being filled with catchy lyrics and good hooks. It just feels disposable. While I’m enjoying the album now, I don’t think it’s likely that I’ll revisit most of its songs ever again after a few months.

As the band have failed to develop, a lot of the problems Bad Blood had are present on Wild World. They were kind of excusable the first time around, but by repeating them the band have just made them all the more glaring. Dan Smith’s lyrics are the main problem. Too many of the songs hinge on cliché phrases, which just dampens any emotional impact they might have had. ‘The lesser of two evils’, ‘sleeping with the fishes’, ‘bury my head in the sand’, ‘I can’t believe my ears’, ‘turn a blind eye’, ‘we’re not that different, you and I’… How many times have you heard these phrases before? Can’t Smith come up with anything more creative? There are some nice lyrics here and there – I like ‘Won’t you exorcise my mind?’ from ‘Send Them Off!’ – but there’s too much that just makes me cringe.

Relating to the band’s refusal to develop, this album feels way too safe. Bastille never veer from the basic ‘verse, chorus, verse, chorus’ structure, and this leads to all of the songs feeling the same to an extent. What the band are offering here is a clump of 19 (which is probably too many for one album), three-and-a-half minute, playlist-ready pop songs.

I don’t despise Wild World, and will admit that I quite like some of the tracks on it. ‘Send Them Off!’ is a highlight for me with its fun trumpet-y opening, and ‘Two Evils’, despite having some of the weakest lyrics on the album, makes for a great change of pace – stripping the band down to nothing more than Smith’s vocals and a single guitar. I love the instruments on ‘The Currents’ and the political edge of the song, and I think ‘Winter of Our Youths’ acts as a pretty good melancholy closer to the album (if you ignore the bonus tracks on what is called the ‘complete edition’).

If you’re looking for a set of fun, catchy pop songs, then Wild World will more than meet your need. Though if you were expecting something new from Bastille, then you’ll probably find it as disappointing as me.

Essential Songs: ‘The Currents’, ‘Two Evils’, ‘Send Them Off!’.

 

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Metronomy – Summer 08

On Metronomy’s new album, the band (essentially just Joseph Mount) tries to recapture the style of their breakout album, Nights Out. Summer 08, the title, is a not-so-subtle reference to this, with 2008 being the year of that album’s release.

Nights Out is probably my favourite Metronomy album – I just love its strangeness – and while the two albums that followed it were great, they did smooth out the band’s eccentricities and weirdness a bit. Compare ‘Holiday’ from Nights Out to ‘The Look’ from The English Riviera and you’ll get what I mean.

Summer 08’s great opening track, ‘Back Together’, screams of this weirdness. The odd timings of the guitar and drums create an off-kilter, alien feel. Mount’s vocals are equally odd/brilliant, with him doing a high-pitch, cartoonish impression of the woman he’s trying to woo in the song. At the end the whole song crescendos into a dreamy outro with a great bit of bass.

‘Old Skool’ is another stand-out track, carrying a similar feel to ‘Back Together’. While that track focuses on 2008 Mount’s arrogance with regards to wooing the ladies (‘I’m sure I’ll find some time inside my diary’), this one is about his resentment towards those richer and more successful than him. The whole song comes across as a jealous, whiney impression of a successful person – intentionally, of course – ‘Make some money / Make more money / With your new friends, throw a party’. It’s got a really great groove to it as well.

After ‘Old Skool’, Metronomy drops the weirdness a little bit, but keeps its focus on nostalgia. ’16 Beat’, for example, shows Mount reminiscing about when he started to make music. There are a lot of solid songs in the album’s second half, with ‘Night Owl’ perhaps being my favourite. For the first minute of the song, the only instrument playing is a particularly melancholy-sounding synth, and it captures the album’s whole nostalgia theme perfectly. When the song kicks off properly, it just gets better. It almost acts as a flipside to ‘Old Skool’, swapping fun for sadness.

This is another one of those albums where I wouldn’t say there are any bad songs, just unmemorable ones. ‘My House’, ‘Love’s Not an Obstacle’ and ‘Summer Jam’ are the sort of songs I enjoy when listening to them, but as soon as they finish, I can’t remember anything about them. Summer 08’s great songs definitely outweigh these ones, though.

Joseph Mount reembracing the band’s early eccentricities has led to a fun album that captures all the different sides of nostalgia well. Definitely worth listening to, even if you aren’t familiar with Metronomy’s other stuff.

Essential Songs: ‘Back Together’, ‘Old Skool’, ‘Night Owl’.

Neil Gaiman – The Ocean at the End of the Lane

The Ocean at the End of the Lane is typical Neil Gaiman. It’s got the sort of the storyline that only he could write and characters only he could create. It’s got that childhood joyfulness about it, despite, at the same time, feeling very adult. And like most Neil Gaiman books, it’s very good.

After returning to the town he grew up in for a funeral, a man finds himself remembering things about his childhood he had long forgotten… Sitting in a farmhouse he hasn’t visited in decades, the man slowly recalls the time he spent with a girl named Lettie Hemstock and the adventure they went on together.

The novel is about memory; forgetting things, remembering things and misremembering things. We all did exciting things when we were kids, went on adventures, made up stories… and sometimes it only takes the smallest thing to cause these memories to come back to us with the clearest clarity. This is what I think Gaiman is trying to tap into with this novel – and, if so, it’s something he does really well. It only takes the smallest moment to make the protagonist’s entire adventure with Lettie to come flooding back to him – after it had escaped from him – and it causes him to relive his childhood again. At the back of the book, Gaiman even notes that his inspiration for the novel came from his father telling him about an event from his childhood that he had completely forgotten about.

Like most of his novels, Gaiman crams The Ocean at the End of the Lane to the brim with ideas. I wouldn’t say it works quite as well for me here as it did in American Gods and Stardust, but it’s still a joy to see all the fantastical things that come out of his head. And it really ties into the child perspective of the novel. All kids come up with weird and wonderful ideas, and Gaiman’s method of filling the book with fantastical ideas really seems to reflect that. The protagonist’s childhood adventure – despite its darker moments – almost seems like the sort of thing a kid would come up with.

And like a child’s story, if you look too deeply into the novel and try to analyse it too much, it does start to come apart at the seams a little bit, and becomes a little bit nonsensical. So don’t. Just relish the opportunity to become a child again, and enjoy all the book’s great colourful characters; Lettie, Old Mrs Hemstock, Ursula Monkton…

Neil Gaiman has once again written the sort of story that all writers wish they could write.

Glass Animals – How to be a Human Being

One of the most distinctive things about Glass Animals’ debut album Zaba was its great jungle vibe; ambient jungle sounds run in the background on all of the tracks and frontman David Bayley spends much of the album singing about ‘snake-baboons’ and ‘ape-swines’. This vibe served Glass Animals well, and helped fuel some really good songs such as ‘Black Mambo’ and ‘Pools’.

But on their second album, How to be a Human Being, the jungle theme has been done away with almost completely. As the album’s title suggests, they’ve moved on from animals to people. Now they’re singing about living with your mum, waiting in line for premade sandwiches and eating mayonnaise from the jar. Each of the album’s songs is a vignette about a different character’s life. So while they may have ditched their last album’s theme, they’ve found a new one to replace it – one that might be even better.

Less restricted in terms of subject matter, the band is able to make music about whatever they want, and the lyrics, and Bailey’s delivery of them, are such a damn pleasure because of it. I could spend the whole of this review just listing the lyrics from this album – ‘thought that I was / Northern Camden’s own Flash Gordon’ – ‘pineapples are in my head’ – ‘she said I look fat / but I look fantastic’ – but I’ll try to limit myself. Besides, you’re probably better off just listening to the album; the delivery of them is part of what makes them so memorable.

The album is more consistent in terms of song quality than Zaba overall, but they don’t fit together quite as cohesively. There’s a lot of different styles on this album, and every song has a different feel to it. There are big and theatrical songs like ‘Life Itself’, chilled out ones like ‘Season 2 Episode 3’, melancholy ones like ‘Agnes’ and very R&Bish ones like ‘Cane Shuga’. Each style reflects on the song and its subject-matter perfectly. For example, ‘Season 2 Episode 3’ has a chilled out feel to it because it’s about a girl who sits around all day eating cereal and getting blazed, while ‘Take a Slice’ is loud and in-your-face because that’s what its main character is like: ‘gonna fuck my way through college’.

And the best thing about the album’s varying moods is that the band masters pretty much all of them. I loved the theatrical songs and I loved the slow ones. Glass Animals have really come into their own with this album, and they improve on almost every aspect of their debut. The only songs I’m not overly keen on are ‘Cane Shuga’ and ‘[Premade Sandwiches]’. ‘Cane Shuga’’s lyrics are great and memorable, but the style of the song didn’t do much for me. ‘[Premade Sandwiches]’ was interesting – it’s a 40 second spoken word song – but I don’t feel like the album would have lost much if they’d decided to leave it out.

Overall, How to be a Human Being is one of my favourite albums of the year so far. It’s got a great sound, great lyrics, great variety… Not sure there’s much more I could have wanted from it.

Essential Songs: ‘Life Itself’, ‘Season 2 Episode 3’, ‘Pork Soda’.

 

Elizabeth Gaskell – Ruth

This is my first time reading an Elizabeth Gaskell novel, though I have read her biography of Charlotte Brontë (which, to be fair, is presented a lot like a novel). Having read so many of the Victorian literature greats, I don’t know why it’s taken me so long to get around to her.

Ruth in some ways is a very typical Victorian novel, and in other ways a very untypical one. For the most part, Ruth is a virtuous and spotless heroine – always acting respectably and doing what is expected of her. In this sense, she can be connected to many of the stereotypical heroines from this period – like, groan, Pamela – however Gaskell marks her as unique through one mistake she makes early on in the novel.

As a poor sweatshop employee, Ruth, by chance, crosses paths with the wealthy aristocrat Henry Bellingham. Still young, only fifteen, she is wooed by him and persuaded to run away with him to Wales. Bellingham’s pleasant exterior soon fades away, and Ruth ends up being abandoned while pregnant with his child. This event – this one mistake that Ruth makes – hangs over her for the rest of the novel, and proves to be something impossible for her to get away from.

Though unmarried pregnant women were not incredibly uncommon in literature up to this point, it’s the way that Gaskell handles Ruth that can be seen as untypical and incredibly progressive for the period. Most authors would have had Ruth commit melodramatic suicide as soon as Bellingham abandoned her – and she attempts to do this in the novel – but Gaskell allows her to live, for a while at least, despite not marrying the father of her child. She starts a new life after Bellingham abandons her, gains the respect of notable families and even manages to overcome the judgement of others when her past is finally revealed to her friends. And even when she eventually dies, her death is only indirectly related to her past ‘crime’, and it does not feel at all like Gaskell is punishing her.

Ruth is much like Anne Brontë’s The Tenant of Wildfell Hall; both novels try to challenge gender conventions in a period where women were far from possessing any freedom. While it’s not always the most interesting novel – the middle part of the book is pretty mundane – it’s a gutsy one. Gaskell does not let her characters’ pasts define them.

Blossoms – Self-Titled

It’s pretty hard to dislike Blossoms’s debut album. Apart from a few duds, it’s pretty much wall-to-wall solid songs – almost all of them could be singles (and, from a brief glance at the band’s Wikipedia page, eight out of twelve of the album’s tracks are). They’re the sort of songs you can put on a party playlist with the safe knowledge that no one’s going to ask you to skip them.

But I suppose the main problem I have with Blossoms is that, I guess, it’s a little bit too safe. The band don’t really do anything you haven’t heard before with any of these tracks. A lot of their songs harken back to older bands – they say Oasis and The Stone Roses are their biggest influences – and so there’s not really much that feels challenging about this album. With this album they’ve simply tried to create a collection of catchy pop songs – and that’s something they’ve done really well.

The album kicks off with its best song, ‘Charlemagne’. The song doesn’t waste any time getting started, and just hits you immediately; it’s just the sort of song you want to dance to. Like most great songs, it’s got a great bass riff and the lyrics are pretty catchy: ‘My eyes tried, hide, cried, died’. It’s also pretty concise, finishing before it goes on for too long, making it easy to listen to several times – and a perfect fit for radio.

The three songs that follow are, if not quite as solid as the opener, still great songs. ‘At Most a Kiss’ continues the fast/short/catchy vibe of ‘Charlemagne’, while ‘Getaway’ and ‘Honey Sweet’ slow the pace down a little bit. The synth in the latter track is used to create a warm and gentle vibe, and it’s another clear stand-out on the album for me. One of my other favourite songs on Blossoms – one of the few that isn’t a single – is ‘Smashed Pianos’. The twanginess of the instruments in the second half of the song creates a great off-kilter/wonky vibe that generates the image of a smashed piano pretty well.

Many of the other songs on the album are strong – ‘Texia’, ‘Blown Rose’, ‘Deep Grass’ – but like I said, there are a few duds. ‘Cut Me and I’ll Bleed’ doesn’t really do much for me – it’s not awful, just kind of eh – and ‘Onto Her Bed’ and ‘My Favourite Room’ definitely feel like filler tracks. ‘Onto Her Bed’ in particular feels like it’s just trying to fill up the album’s runtime, kind of just meandering for a few minutes before abruptly fading out. Its lyrics are pretty cheesy as well: ‘My tears down the windy alley drain’.

Like I said, it’s pretty hard to dislike this album. Like many debut albums, it feels like the band is simply trying to collect all their best songs into one place – so it’ll be interesting to see where they go with their next one. Will they deliver another collection of singles or instead try to go for something more cohesive?

Essential Songs: ‘Charlemagne’, ‘Honey Sweet’, ‘Smashed Pianos’.

Idra Novey – Ways to Disappear

Ways to Disappear has a lot going for it from my perspective: it’s got a good story, it’s characters are complex, it doesn’t overstay it’s welcome and it’s pretty weird. Though I wouldn’t call it a favourite novel, it almost feels like someone wrote it specifically for me, it ticks so many boxes. Idra Novey understands what a good novel needs, and she demonstrates this knowledge incredibly well with Ways to Disappear.

The story kicks off when Beatriz Yagoda, a celebrated Brazilian author, goes missing after climbing up into a tree. When her American translator, and sort-of-friend, finds out, she travels to Brazil to help locate Beatriz with the help of her son and daughter. The three of them soon discover the reason for the author’s disappearance: a gigantic gambling debt. In her absence, Beatriz’s creditors push down on those hunting her, making finding her all the more paramount.

One of the aspects of Ways to Disappear that impressed me most – as odd as it may sound – is the chapter lengths. Although there are many long and bloated novels out there that I adore, this one demonstrated to me the importance of keeping things brief. Few chapters go on longer than two pages, which makes it an incredibly addictive read, helping feed that ‘one more chapter’ feeling. Why not read one more chapter when it’ll only take you a couple of minutes? In many of my old novel attempts, I focused really hard on making sure the chapters reached a certain number of words. Ways to Disappear showed me that short chapters can be just as powerful as long ones, and, in most cases, more powerful.

In other aspects of the novel, brevity is also key. Idra Novey creates a fully developed story without padding it out, and pieces together believable characters through giving us a few key details about each of them. On top of this, there’s also a sense of weirdness – that almost makes me think of Kurt Vonnegut – that stops the book from seeming too by the numbers. For aspiring writers, Ways to Disappear is a solid modern novel to study.

However, despite my admiration for this novel, I don’t think I can describe it as being anything more than ‘great’. It does its job well, it entertained me while I read it, but it’s not really good enough to be called a classic or anything; I don’t know how well I’ll remember it in a couple of years. But don’t let that detract from the fact that this is a good book. It tells an interesting story in an interesting way, and that something that too many novels simply fail to do.

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