Tag: shambletracks

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Shambletracks: Lay it down, Nujabes

I feel like I’m going to be nothing but a disappointment after yesterday’s barnstormer of a review, courtesy of Shamblepal Zac – if you missed it, check out his beautiful homage to Mark Ronson’s funkathon here.

But, alas, what holds for life also holds for the musical section of shambolic comedy podcasts: the show must go on. Like a beaten-up, one legged tortoise next to a particularly spritely and beautiful hare, who has defied convention to win the race, steal my wife and alienate my kids, I’ll plod towards the audio finish line with my pick for today: one of Japan’s finest hip-hop exports, Nujabes.

If the name’s not immediately familiar to you, I only discovered Mr Jabes – real name Jun Seba – through the cracking anime series Samurai Champloo. It’s the tale of homeless sword-swisher Mugen, Jin, a calm but sarcastic ronin, and Fuu, a young lady slightly hopelessly searching for a florally perfumed Samurai (literally the fulcrum of the plot). Though it’s set in Edo-era Japan – a time of long robes, wooden sandals, cowering peasants, wicked feudal lords and kickass sword-fighting – the soundtrack is all frenetic, jazzed-up hip-hop produced by Nujabes.

The result is that every clash of swords is punctuated by a shuffling beat, every quip by the twang of a syncopated bassline, every beautifully drawn sunset by a soulful lament. It’s gorgeous stuff. Highlights of the two Samurai Champloo soundtrack LPs include Aurarian Dance, an instrumental that borrows an old Spanish guitar song, complete with orchestral backing, and Shiki No Uta, a seedy funk ballad with vocals from Japanese soca singer Minmi.

Nujabes released five stunning albums, alongside a host of EPs, singles and collaborations with rappers and DJs. Devastatingly, however, his last album Spiritual State was released posthumously: on February 26th 2010, Seba was killed in a car accident at the Shuto Expressway in Tokyo.

Even since then, both Spiritual State and its predecessor Modal Soul are considered two of the finest hip-hop albums ever made, and still attract thousands of new young fans and admirers. Nujabes’ undeniable talent was for pairing scattered, heavy hip-hop beats with a myriad instrumental samples, which in his hands and through some weird alchemy were stitched together to create amazing new hybrids.

Feather, the track I’ve picked out today, is one of the few that featured rappers before the numerous re-releases that followed Seba’s death. Florida hip-hop outfit CLYNE and long-time collaborator Cisse Star alternate verses and choruses, their relaxed and slick words taking in nods to John Steinbeck, Flowers for Algernon and Don McLean’s American Pie. It’s all borne from a single piano lick, split up and cut back together, slowly joined by a growing backing of booming horns. It’s stunning stuff, and well worth a listen even if you’re not a huge hip-hop or rap fan. Chekkit.

Paddy returns tomorrow! Till next time, beloved Shambles,

L-Dwag 9000, owner of nubz and slayer of DARGONZ x

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Shambletracks: Zac does Mark Ronson

HELLO and good day.

You lucky (maybe) readers have the pleasure of getting stuck into a guest blog-post today: I, Zac, will be stepping into the role usually held by either one of Messrs Paddy or Laurie, and doing my best impression of a shambolic human being. I am, in fact, quite a coherent and organised individual, but I will try my hardest to fit the Podshambles billing. You could even say I am quite literally a ‘sham’ Shambler.

I’m going to come at this from a slightly different angle to the manner in which Paddy and Laurie invade your Internet. All the songs put forth by the Podshambles blog (Shamblog? Podblog? Blambles?) thus far have been brilliant, and I am a fan, but I shall veer away from the Indie/Rock/Niche vibes which have dominated until now and have a think about someone far more mainstream – hear me out, OK?

It being Wednesday – in my opinion the worst day of the week – I thought people could use a pick-me-up. Sitting slap-bang in the middle of the week, Wednesday’s far enough away from the previous weekend that anything fun you got up to begins to fade into a fuzzy memory and so far away from the coming weekend that freedom is nothing more than a distant dream. Goddamit Wednesday.

To pick you up out of the spiralling whirlpool of misery that is the middle of the working week, I thought I’d propose a song to help you all get your funk back. Your Uptown Funk that is…and seamlessly we segue into today’s topic. (See what I did there? Or did I ruin it by telling you exactly what I did?)

 

I’ve never been totally sure of Mark Ronson: not in the sense I mistrust him as a person – I am sure he is lovely – but rather I can never make up my mind as to whether he is a talented musical producer or some sort of musical dilettante.

On the surface, he seems able to throw his hand to any genre of music and turn it into a popular hit. He was able to (in my opinion) better an already great song in The Zutons’ Valerie, improve a rather rubbish song tenfold with Oh My God, create a unbelievably catchy hit in The Bike song and all the while doing so using the input of rather irritating musicians. Generally, I am not one to sing the praises of Lilly Allen, Amy Winehouse or the front man from the annoying band who sing about having the same jeans on for more than one day, but throw mark Ronson into the mix and I find myself bobbing my head along nonetheless.

That’s not to say Ronson has never missed the mark: his interpretation of Radiohead’s Just is a jazzy but ultimately soulless facsimile – but then Just is a fantastic song to begin with, so he was perhaps biting off more than he could chew with that one.

In addition, Ronson is almost always his own worst enemy. His songs are catchy and ultimately great pop songs, getting people to bop along happily but then thanks to his prowess at writing such melodies or reformulating existing hits these songs are played incessantly by unimaginative radio DJs. His hits then become omnipresent, played on every station and in every shop, seemingly appearing everywhere. Inevitably we (or, at least, I) begin to hate these songs, and in turn blame poor Mark for ever subjecting us to his music.

Mark is, of course, not to blame for this, but the people who think because a song is great we need to hear it every second, of every day, ever, definitely are.

But, I digress. Enough of rambling on about Mark Ronson, and to my original point: helping you all get your mid-week funk on.

Fortunately for me, I came to the Uptown Funk party late, and by the time I even realised it was a thing the song’s buzz was already beginning to fade, so I haven’t heard it a million-and-one times. It’s reminiscent of the great tunes that powered the 70s soul train, helped keep afros perfectly spherical and made flares cool despite all evidence to the contrary. Uptown Funk has of course been updated for the 21st century but stays true to the pillars of 70s funk: a great bass-line beat, an optimistic guitar riff and a charismatic front-man. Throw in some saxophone fun and you end up with something it’s impossible not to bob your head along to and imagine yourself donning a pink blazer about town (just me?)

Well, anyway, I hope this tune does act as a pill to fight the midweek blues. If you have already heard this and you’re sick of the sight of Bruno Mars – completely understandable – then I apologise and can assure you you’ll be back reading the wit and whimsy of either Paddy or Laurie tomorrow.

I hope that stream of consciousness was shambolic enough for you all; if not, check this wonderful mess of a scenario out.

Have a groovy day,

Love,

Zac x

 

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Shambletracks: Sharon Van Etten is better than lots of things.

OH LOOK. IT’S ME AGAIN. HOW PREDICTABLE.

Paddy is back on the mic and when he rocks the mic he rocks the mic right* – and don’t you forget it pal, because woah hey here I am and with me I’ve got both Tony & Guy. In my head that whole intro bit sounded really very brilliant but now that I look at it I don’t think it comes across in the same way on a page as it does in a funny voice with actions and so on.

So as Laurie III (Duke of Snug) outlined, we’ve been hungover. And there is now confusion. I think I was meant to release this last night? I have no idea. Maybe Laurie XIII (Earl of Cuddles) will do another today. We have no idea. We’re on track though – right? GET IT. ON TRACK. CAUSE OF TRACKS. OH GOD I AM SO ALONE.

Anyway, today I have chosen the sound of Sharon Van Etten. Laurie sent me this about a year ago and I’ve been hooked on her ever since – she’s just brilliant. I had a real struggle trying to choose one track to show you, but the beauty of Shambletracks is that I can just do another/I have to do another. I have something like 26000 songs on this laptop, so after roughly 142.368240931 years you will have heard all of them. And that’s assuming Laurie and I never have any musical taste crossover. Oh God.

I’ve decided to show you ‘Give Out’. It was a toss-up between this, ‘Serpents’ (as heard on The Walking Dead OST), ‘Peace Signs’ (which reminds me of ‘Disarm’ by Smashing Pumpkins in a big/good way) and ‘I Know’ – along with all her other songs. I really really had to think about this one and I hope I’ve chosen wisely. The song is (to me) about finding love and losing it (but isn’t everything these days). Following someone to the ends of the earth only to have to make the return journey alone. Wow that sounded more upsetting than I meant it to.

Give it a listen and see what you think – it’s pure and haunting like a good-natured spectre who has just cried for an hour.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=exJ3AG0JIeo

Also this may be against the spirit of things, but check out her acoustic version live on the KEXP Pickathon. It will hopefully blow you away. I’ll put it here:

Well that’s it from me today – keep on being great people.

Big love,

Paddy XX

*You should see me do it. It’s genuinely quite astounding. Some even say that if you’ve got no love then you’re with the wrong man (and therefore) it’s time to move your body**.

**Especially if you’re struggling with attracting a partner but your main buddy/pal is really good at it. Maybe you should…dance?

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Shambletracks: Easy like an Alt-J morning

Alt-J looking like moody buggers

Oh Shambles. We’re feeling delicate today. Paddy and I have finally done it – we’ve finally bust through to HANGOVER TOWN. Next stops, QUESTIONABLE TOILET NOISES and ADDICTION TO LEMSIP, passing briefly through REGRETVILLE, with a lovely view of HEY ALL THOSE THINGS YOU DID WHEN YOU THOUGHT NO-ONE WAS LOOKING BUT SOME PRICK WITH A CAMERA PHONE HAS IMMORTALISED FOR AT LEAST, LIKE, A WEEK.

Anyway, that’s my excuse for why I missed the deadline for Shambletracks yesterday and instead have crawled in late, piss-soggy and incoherent, groping for my dignity and trailing trousers. Sorry.

We did the classic one-two of ‘Host a Birthday Party then go and see the hottest indie quartet in town’ this weekend, celebrating both the anniversary Paddy-shambles’ brave liberation from the womb and Alt-J’s delicious introduction to London’s favourite tit monument, the O2 arena. They put on an absolute barnstormer of the show for us, Zac and Chloé, who accompanied us because we needed responsible adults to stop us doing naughty things. Everything from moody set opener ‘Hunger of the Pine‘ – helped by arrays of pulsing red lights, glowering like some enormous pan-galactic android – to perennial hit ‘Tessellate‘ was upgraded for the massive O2 stage, but the four Cambridge lads remained friendly and inclusive rather than aloof or arrogant, which is always lovely to see.

Paddy even managed to swank himself into the VIP area and sit next to Ellie Roswell, lead singer of supporting band Wolf Alice; they were an unexpected treat, their songs heavy, lairy and disjointed, like a souped-up Sonic Youth, and the pleasingly-named ‘Moaning Lisa Smile‘ was particularly brillo.

The only thing they didn’t get round to was playing their stripped back cover of Thin Lizzy’s ‘Dancing in the Moonlight’, trading in the funked-up bass and finger clicks for a glockenspiel and Joe Newman’s typically swallowed vocals. It’s far more a starry-eyed walk of wonder home than the original’s swagger up the street, but it’s absolutely beautiful. May it soothe you this Sunday morning and make you forget how many times you made that slightly inappropriate joke about ham hocks and imams while pulling ‘that Roy Chubby Brown face’.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LSHygiOnwTA

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Shambletracks: Lovecraft In Brooklyn is my jam.

“A new day, a new Shambletrack” as the really really famous saying definitely goes.

Wow guys it’s been a crazy ride getting here but we made it. When we started Shambletracks back on January 21st 2015 we could not have imagined this kind of runaway success – it’s just been amazing. Thank you all so much for your unending support through this mental and emotional time – I really feel like we deserve this; and hey, here’s to another 2 days!

Wow I think I just accurately used a semicolon (Zac helped). (Zac wrote it) – Now I, can go back to misusin-g ‘punctuation” at Will*!#coolmoves.

*like at will, not targeting someone called William. Although we could totally do that.

ANYWAY.

Today I have chosen Lovecraft In Brooklyn by The Mountain Goats. I have done this for many reasons. These will now become clear through the medium of information.

1. Laurie and I have given two relatively soft and melodic choices to you guys so far so I thought I’d add something a bit more thumping and drum-driven.

2. I’m currently reading The Lovecraft Anthology and this came on shuffle and I was all like ‘whaaaaaaaaaaat!?’ but then realised no one cared and broke my self-made surprise tableaux THAT I WORKED ON FOR AGES MIND YOU ROBERT.

3. I love this band. I love this song. I love basically everything about them and it, respectively.

4. I will be in Brooklyn next month. I feel that’s perhaps relevant.

You should (if you haven’t already) go and buy everything they have ever released. This album is called ‘Heretic Pride‘ and is wonderful, although if you’re looking for something to hook you onto The Mountain Goats I’d recommend picking up a copy of ‘The Sunset Tree’ or ‘Tallahassee’ first?

OH and the other thing that’s interesting about this song is it’s basically about a man who starts to identify with H.P Lovecraft at the height of his paranoia, racism and fear of everyone. Lovecraft moved to Brooklyn pursuing his love for a lady, and found the whole place terrifying – don’t worry though, the song’s overriding feeling is of disconnection and being alienated as opposed to ‘what it’s like to fear immigrants’.

Anyways, give it a listen and see what you think. It’s definitely the band’s heaviest song (by quite a long way) so if it doesn’t click with you, check out some of their more acoustic/folksy stuff on youtube.

BIG LOVE.

PADDY. XX

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Shambletracks: Hannah Lou Clark

So, not content with me having to write for my job – and most of my free time – Paddy decided that we should embark on a daily series about our favourite tunes of the moment.

Brilliant.

Thanks Paddy.

It’s entirely your fault if I start drifting into talking about the latest investor sentiment forecasts or, vice versa, if geese and Led Zeppelin start appearing in my work stuff.

ANYWAY – this is called Shambletracks, this is post number two, and it’s my turn.

Today, we’re chatting all kinds of shit about Hannah Lou Clark, a cracker of a songwriter who hails from our own green, Clarkson-ridden shores. She might be known to you in her previous form, Foe, all brightly-coloured wigs, heavy guitars and who I was a bit mixed about seeing at Kendall Calling 2012 (for many of us, the most seminal gig ever – who could forget the Lancashire Hotpot’s Sunday evening barnstormer, eh? EH?)

She’s back around today in an entirely more appealing guise. Paddy and I both have a soft spot for grungey, guitar-lead melancholo-rock (hey look at me, making up words like a real music journalist), especially if topped off by some gorgeous female vocals. HLC (to her friends) is exactly that – her lyrics are simple but evocative, her voice fragile but powered-up and meaty when it matters (that’s the name of mine and Paddy’s burlesque double-act, by the way) (POWERED UP and MEATY WHEN IT MATTERS present BIG HOT DOG ON CAMPUS, A CHILDREN’S TALE).

My favourite track from her three-track EP – Kids in Heat – is a boozy, faded love song, the slurred flirting from the end of a drunken summer evening, all sweet and savage at once. The lyrics are obsessive and tender – ‘let me wipe away your tears/lick the salt from your skin’ – while an open-tuned guitar layers over a washy backdrop. It’s got some elements of the best Smashing Pumpkins creep-o ballads, the dreamiest Warpaint jams and topped up with a pinch of Big Deal.

You can buy the EP online right ‘ere on Bandcamp, as a record or an MP3 (or a FLAC, if you’re a wanker) and she’s doing some tour dates around the country. I can’t bloody wait to see her, and neither should you.