Review: Magnificent Lions – Self Titled

Randomly selecting music rarely produces a worthwhile outcome. But for at least one instance in my lifetime, the results were actually wonderful.

Magnificent Lions is a four-piece indie/emo/post-rock band making noise in the unexpectedly vibrant scene in Chattanooga, Tennessee. Their debut was the refreshing outlier that I discovered while cycling through new releases on Bandcamp.com. Even more surprising was learning that the front man was the only musician playing on the full-length album.

Tyler Bradford is the architect of this ambitious endeavor, playing and singing and screaming his way through the entire process. Very few even attempt The Dave Grohl Thing, and even fewer succeed. Yet Bradford pulls it off perfectly, with expressive songs written in his teen years, swimming in his head ever since. “It was just something I needed to do,” Bradford said to me a few weeks ago. We had set up a phone call because I really wanted to hear what was behind this album, as it had been eating my lunch for months.

The music itself is powerful and affecting. There is a surprising maturity in the lyrics, which deal with some heavy themes and the dynamics of a broken family. In other words, it’s not your average teen love crap.

I suppose the mandatory comparisons are unavoidable when writing album reviews, but it seems at times a disservice. This album certainly fits the emo genre, but it’s never derivative. At various times, I am reminded of Sunny Day Real Estate, Bad Astronaut, My Epic, and even Alice in Chains, which are all brilliant bands. That kind of variety is only made possible by the amazing versatility of Bradford’s voice. One part might sound like something from The Promise Ring, and the next from Underoath; often within the same song.

Many bands have gone the quiet/loud route, only to demonstrate for everyone that they should have stuck with one or the other. Magnificent Lions seems quite adept at both ends of the spectrum. Deploying impressive patience and depth in their quieter moments, and appropriately tumultuous fervor during the high-energy bits, this is an album devoted to balance. Bradford shows he also understands dynamics of the musical kind, and thankfully, so does the man engineering the album. Three cheers to Daniel Nelson who excelled where so many have failed. Emo is not easy to mix, but even the most diverse tracks here are neither compressed to death, nor in need of constant volume adjustments. The world thanks you, Saint Daniel.

The song that hooked me was We Were the House All Along, and it’s absolutely perfect. The big room drums, the earnest lyrics, and the gigantic chorus hit just right, before seamlessly changing time signatures and bringing it down again (then building it back up of course), only to settle back into the 6/8 progression he started with and ending on a quiet note, with the solitary bass line riding off into the sunset, appropriately alone.

Other standout tracks include The Need and Sleeper, which grabbed my attention right off the bat. However, repeated listening brought a new appreciation for the triptych of songs that end the album: Waking, Hurricanes and Coda. These tracks fit together so well, they sound like they were written on three consecutive days (though they were not). Collectively, they also provide both the resolution and the release the rest of the album is crying out for. Bradford is not the first songwriter to tackle heartbreak and loss, but he does it in such an honest way that anyone can connect to it. By the end of it all, I feel cleansed.

And finally, simply because they are a great example of the absolute poetry on this thing, here’s the lyrics for Waking:

“At the foot of everything
There was a flood in me
So great I could hardly breathe
But you can now rest assured
All of me was accounted for
And all egos aside
Was I just a passerby
Caught and then led astray
I just want to stay awake
Please don’t go
See me through
Great are those who wait”

Are you convinced yet? Just go buy the album. It’s beautiful and sad, and yes — even magnificent.

By the way, just like Dave Grohl, Bradford recruited bandmates after recording the album, and they’ve been playing the songs live ever since. New material has been posted recently, and the early results sound pretty amazing. (One has to admit, the approach worked out well for the Foo Fighters…)

Interview: Basciville

I’m not going to lie. I knew nothing of Basciville until a lovely lady called Jenna O’Neill shared their latest record Post Youth on an IMN Facebook post. I was that intrigued I even took my MacBook Air to the toilet and played the song while having a poo. Or maybe it was a wee? Probably a tinkle. Who cares! Basciville are talented wee laddies (I’m not even Scottish. Where did that come from?). They rock that much, I pissed all over the wall, floor and ceiling dancing to their soulful tune. I’m a dirty bastard, but it was so worth it. 

Anyway, I really wanted to meet the brothers behind Basciville. Yes, they’re brothers. We got into a little role play too, which seems a little weird now. It’s not Game of Thrones.

I hope you enjoy the interview. Please don’t get creeped out. I’m not a weirdo or on crack. Promise.

Hello Cillian Byrne and Lorcan Byrne of Basciville. Let’s participate in a little role play. We’ve just matched on Tinder, sell yourself. 

First question. Are you ready? 

CB: Yes

So you’re from Wexford in Ireland. Is it an interesting place to live? I’ve never heard of it.

CB: It’s a relaxing place to live…

Do you have a job? What do you do?

LB: Does being a full-time cool dude count as a job? If not, then I guess I’ll go with musician.

You’re not unemployed, are you? I’ll have to unswipe. Where would we go on our first date? Are you paying the bill? You better be. 

LB: Wetherspoons in Dub Laoighre. I’m a modern adult so I strongly believe in splitting the bill. And I’m a musician so maybe you might have to pay.

For fuck sake, you’re a catch. Do you play any instruments? Please redeem yourself. 

CB: Guitar, bass and piano. And anything else that will impress you. 

You kinky boy. Are you in a band?

CB: Yes! I’m in a cool outfit called Basciville. 

Have you released any songs?

CB: We’ve released a few, yes. They’re all available on a little start-up platform called Spotify. 

Never heard of it. Would you make me a record? What would it be about?

LB: Sure. It would be a concept album about the current Korean-US trade war. The first single would be called Kim Jog-on.

You’re bloody turning me on. Stop it, young man. Where can I follow you? I want to send you pictures of animals

LB: We are present on all social media platforms. Use the Basciville handle for all your visual pleasure. 

Do you like cats, dogs or both?

LB: Cats and dogs are great. Did you know the house cat is the most effective and efficient predator on the planet? And dogs look funny in hats. 

They do. I like your photos on Facebook. What’s your favourite picture of the band?

LB: Thank you very much. You’re such a flirt. I guess I would have to go with the one of us necking that naggin with Obama.

I feel like we’ve really connected as human beings. If we got married, where would the venue be?

CB: Eh ok. It would have to be at a Church of Scientology. Hope that’s not a deal breaker for you.

No, that’s a beautiful venue. Now that we’re married, where should we live?

CB: That was easy! My Scientology house of course! The bunk beds are moderately comfy!

They better be. One last question, what is something you’ve learned this week?

LB: One thing I’ve learned this week is that a general level of cardio fitness makes most aspects of your life easier.

Interesting. Well, it was nice to meet you. Any last words….

LB: Are we still married?

Yes. Where’s my Scientology house with bunk beds? It sounded like such a good life.

Basciville unswiped you.

Bastards!

Review: Wy – Softie

Two years after releasing their debut album Okay, Swedish duo Wy return with their hypnotising second record, Softie. Self-described as “turbulent”, “back and forth” and “non-conforming” this is the album I didn’t know I needed in my life.

Formed in 2015, the duo comprises of Ebba Agren and Michel Gustafsson. With a similar sound to Cigarettes After Sex, this eleven track album is a combination of dreamy shoegaze melodies combined with raw, truthful and unapologetic words about mental health, vulnerability and growing up.

“I want them to stare at me…And wonder if I’ve gone insane
Wonder what I’m thinking of…Try to make some sense of me”

This hit me right in the feels. As someone who has struggled with mental health – that mainly stems from the immense pressure of being in my twenties and not knowing what the f*ck I’m doing – there’s something so beautifully reassuring in these lyrics and knowing it’s ok to feel these things. Wy have said that “Softie is ultimately about releasing the pressure off of yourself and we want to encourage our listeners to do that same”.

“I just wanna tell you how I feel…But I don’t talk about my misery
Can’t bring myself to say I love you…I just hope you know”

The whole album feels like a celebration of being human and allowing yourself to feel, to grow, to cope, with each individual song playing a part in this journey of self-acceptance.

The standout track for me is Twenty-two Dreaming. The twinkling guitar and atmospherical synth lend a convivial tone to the song, contrasting to the lyrics which Wy themselves say are “kind of dark”. It takes you on a journey as the guitar merges with a heavier more distorted sound as Ebba’s poignantly tender vocals gain depth as she sings “Don’t want to feel the grey of it, always”.

What I love about Softie is that however real it is, it’s not downbeat. It has a lovely sense of hopeful optimism because guys; it’s ok to feel and talk about these things. We’re all human.

Wy themselves say, “Remember that there is no shame in being vulnerable, in being unstable, in feeling very much all the time. Keep feeling, be an explosion, be unhinged, be chaotic, BE A SOFTIE”.

Gig Review: Body Type, Chew Magna & PVA @ YES

I woke up at the crack of dawn. A regular Monday to Friday routine. I got in the shower, washed my sweaty body and greasy hair, then proceeded to walk downstairs for my daily helpings of three Weetabix and milk. You need to live life to the full, so I helped myself to a tablespoon of sugar. I might get diabetes, but it spices up my morning.

After that exciting start to the day, how could it get any better? Then I remembered, I was going to see Body Type, Chew Magna and PVA live at YES in Manchester. YES, I didn’t know where the venue was. YES, I used sat-nav to get there. I was a little unsuccessful, though. I nearly run over a man. I wish I knew his name. I’d say sorry and mention him in this review. Anyway, sorry man.

When I finally found the car park near the venue…

*Tangent alert, tangent alert*

Shout out to Charles Street car park. What it lacked in appearance, it made up for in price. For four hours of parking, I paid two pounds. I was very happy when I made my way back to the car. I even bought myself a McDonalds McFlurry on the way home. Cheers lads.

*Tangent alert over, tangent alert over*

…I was buzzing because it was only two minutes away from YES. What? YES, the venue. When I arrived at the door, the lovely bouncer directed me to the basement. I was a little surprised with how forward she was, but I clearly had high hopes because that’s where the gig was being held. YES, the basement. To be fair, it was a brightly lit basement with a bar. I love a good bar. I walked over and bought a coke because I was driving. Note to the police, I did have a coke. Check the CCTV. Please don’t arrest me.

On to the music, PVA kicked off the proceedings. Not the glue, dummy. The band, PVA from Manchester. They were bloody good too. I even bobbed my head once or twice. I don’t usually do that kind of thing, but I think the “Coca-Cola” kicked in. Before I knew it, they started playing the song Talks. You can listen to it here:

Well anyway, my body started doing some weird thrust. I felt slightly embarrassed so I walked over to the bar again to buy another non-alcoholic drink, officer.

Then, Chew Magna walked on to the stage. They were very attractive individuals. Maybe it was the drink talking but the guy with the moustache was beautiful and very well dressed. I think I have a man crush. Call me.

What can I say about Chew Magna’s music? It’s really aggressive. At one point, I thought the lead singer was going to uppercut my chin. It needs a good slap to be honest. Might sort my life out then. In all seriousness, I want to make babies to their live performance. It might be awkward for them, but it’ll be fun for me.

Now I’ve made this review awkward, let’s move on to Body Type; the headliners. I want to proclaim my love for Body Type too. Seriously, was I really just drinking coke? Maybe I was spiked.

Body Type is an amazing band. AMAZING. Live, they dance around the stage like no ones there. You can tell they love playing music together. It was nice to see. I wish I had friends like that. I don’t. Sorry, Steve, you can’t play the drums or guitar. We can’t have that connection like Body Type do. Check out their music below.

My sign off. I had a McFlurry on the way home, but they forgot to add the Cadbury chocolate bits. Bastards.

Byyyyyyyeeee.

Review: Club Kuru – Meet Your Maker

Musicians can spend a lifetime searching for a kindred spirit. Someone with who their musical opinions and tastes run so parallel, it’s like they’ve walked the same path of discovery since the day they first identified that magical core of music. For some people, that search may never bare fruit. For others, i.e. Laurie Erskine and Laurence Hammerton, the prolific minds that make up Club Kuru, it could almost be described as fate. Having released their debut album Giving In only last year, the duo have spared no time in doubling down on their seventies revival, psych-dream foundations and have delivered album number two, Meet Your Maker.

In an era where a common attitude of the general population is “everything has been done before”, it’s up to creative minds to prove that that sentiment doesn’t mean you can’t develop upon the groundwork to deliver something fresh and new while paying a huge homage to what came before. With that in mind, it would be a lie to say that Club Kuru are something completely fresh. They wear their influences proudly on their sleeves. From the moment the drums first enter on By The Windowpane, there’s a feeling of familiarity. That dry, close, snappy drum sound that was the backbone of so many records from the sixties and seventies, is brought forward, charm and all, to the twenty-first century; presented alongside a tapestry of alluring guitar lines, dream-laced synth textures and soothing harmonies. What they present in these songs is a refined ability to work together to create modern soundscapes on top of familiar pop sensibilities, like a piece of modern art set against a backdrop of serene natural beauty.  

Introduction is a thirty-seven-second gateway into the journey of Meet Your Maker, like dipping your toe into the ocean. A minimalistic sequence of synth chords accompanied by a French couple speaking in what appears to be a sensuous way to each other (Unfortunately, I’m a philistine when it comes to French; I know as much as bonjour), progressively become more reverb-drenched, to the point where the dream begins, and the album starts in earnest. What follows is eleven tracks of dream-inducing psych-pop. The record has a real sense of purpose. Every creative decision feeling like another deliberate stroke on the easel.

Film Credits is a definite high point, a point in the album that really highlights the pairs ability to pull together different elements to produce something very interesting, a song that shifts and changes. Sounding like its namesake at the beginning, and a charming pop lullaby towards the end. “I wake up in the morning, and it’s like I’ve lived another life”, a lyric that befits the listening experience of this record, a dreamlike journey.

Meet Your Maker never feels truly revolutionary; it certainly borrows from its peers and its forefathers, and it also never left me feeling truly gobsmacked. But what it does so expertly is present Club Kuru’s musical abilities. The duo have perfected so much of their craft. Rich, determined songwriting, impeccable production techniques, wonderful soundscapes, all combine to make an album that stands proud in the light of its influences, but also shines back at them with a glistening, warming glow of its own.

Review: Horca – Catalise

My first inclination upon hearing this album was to turn it up. Part of that might have to do with how it was mastered, but I do believe certain music just doesn’t work being played in the background. The Sao Paolo four-piece definitely plays with attitude, so I squinted really hard and tried to imagine their live show. Having never seen photos of the band, I pictured young and rebellious hairstyle models in assorted black t-shirts, striking dramatically wide stances while looking incredibly cool. It turns out that I was off just a little bit – all the guys have beards – but their four-song debut is plenty intriguing. Their sound makes me think they were raised on almost nothing but Led Zeppelin, Blondie, and an assortment of 80s metal. 

The groove is strong with this one. Rock aficionados will find a lot to like, and they don’t hold back on bringing the noise. Horca features João Lucas Leme on guitar and Daniell Marafon on bass, with Aécio de Souza Oliveira pounding the crap out of his drum set. But you’re going to notice Juliana Rosa first. Her vocals take command of these songs in a way that very few female vocalists are capable of. Her voice is somewhat evocative of Debbie Harry, but with more sass and muscle. (And plenty of delay). 

The first song is called Haste that starts with a bang and never lets up. The heavily repeated riff provides the platform for Juliana to introduce herself, with a haunting and soaring harmony to the lead. When the end finally arrives, the band inevitably decides that it is not yet ready to stop and charges off again. Great amounts of energy are expended in the almost six-minute song.

Rats is next, and it aims to expand upon the first. The bass player definitely gets a workout, and there’s some good, chunky breakdowns in this one. The Eastern melodies sound like something that would have fit on Siamese Dream.

The third song is a curve ball, and No Prude is the centerpiece of the album. It starts out as a stripped-back acoustic reprieve, then slowly simmers into a 12/8 bluesy stomp that keeps punching you in the kidneys. But cooking continues, and suddenly explodes at the bridge into a frenetic and punkish episode of metallic glory that could well have come from Sweden rather than Brazil. 

Catalise closes with a reconstituted and re-imagined version of the opening track. It’s weird and did not add to my experience. But I appreciate the effort to try something different, and Juliana’s voice is featured heavily, so that is probably never a bad thing.

Overall, there is a lot to like on this album, and I look forward to hearing more from Horca. Give them a listen: