The Oxford Punt - 13/05/09 (unedited version)

Hardly projecting bands to instant stardom, The Oxford Punt's purpose is one of mutual support and camaraderie among the city's independent scene. Nearly five years of living in Oxford and I've only just managed to drag my disorganised ass to this.

With a bit of initiative, you can get your hands on 'The Punt Pass'. It grants the holder the freedom to stagger from pub to pub and witness as much, or as little, as desired. Very few would pass up the chance to wave a bit of laminated card in a bouncers face and tell them to fuck off.

But before this moment of justice, cast a dubious eye over the double page spread in May's Nighshift - the infamously opinionated, local music 'zine - and you'd be forgiven in thinking that no pub would survive an invasion of calculator wielding boffins. Throughout the feature, like a stutter, the word 'math' occurs over and over; but not without some justification of genre. Recently, Foals, The Young Knives and A Silent Film have come to define the sound of this ancient city brimming with technically intricate, smarter-than-the-average rock. Perhaps something uncontrollable would break through the fog of indie pop in the most pretentious city in the country?

Mini rockers Hearts in Pencil were the first. It was club indie, dangerously close to the Kooks, but rescued by an adventurous guitarist and a powerful bassist; who, for the sake of trendy style, kept stroking his fringe. Musically mature beyond their years, they ended with a track not too dissimilar from Fugazi's echoing dub-punk. A sturdy set, short enough to prevent the front-man's off key swagger from pissing me off.

One drink downed, and at a different venue, Mary's Garden displayed a more sombre tone. They have been playing in Oxford for four to five years in various forms. Think a more daring and distorted version of The Editors lead by an infinitely cooler, New Romantic Gwen Stefani (in sound not appearance). We were also tortured with a corporate presentation from A Response Collective, complete with bogus philosophy and shitty MS graphics projected on a large screen. This is what Nighshift calls electronic music? More like confused prog with lazy sampling. "Thank you for coming out instead of staying in and watching reality TV" said the guitarist. I spluttered in disgust and nearly sprayed cider out my nose.

This band/insult provoked my escape and I found musical sanity from a band called From Light In Sound at the next venue. With tremendous energy and fervour, it was clear that shoegaze was the collective theme of the evening because... adding bricks to this wall-of-distortion, Spiral 25 were also well received. Similar to the psychedelia of The Black Angels, they flooded the room in a dense fog, put on black sunglasses and drew forth waves of mystic, textured Rock.

A small diversion took me to see how Oxford favourites The Winchell Riots were holding up next door. Their cascading melodies and gripping stage presence have sustained their popularity; but I find them affected, contrived and in need of a sobering slap to awaken them from wistful delusions of grandeur.

Ending the night and appealing not only to the drunk half of the audience, The Original Rabbit Foot Spasm Band were well loved. They clearly struck an old school chord with their ram-shackled, thirties gangster jazz. Rest assured, The Oxford Punt had secured its reputation for another year.

(© Copyright 2009 Brendan Morgan)

Sleepy Sun - "Embrace"

The country still drives on; only now, perhaps, with nervous caution. Maybe it's time we sunk back into dreamy escapism or, better yet, some self confidence. The debut album Embrace by Sleepy Sun invites us do just that. It oozes Americana cool from every pore conjuring images of dusty plains and roads disappearing over the horizon. In Britain, this is the USA we love.

Originating from Santa Cruz and then onto San Francisco, they pay homage to a wild, strange and eccentric part of America with a vibrant history. Rachael Williams and Bret Constantino’s swaggering voices demand your attention. They growl and moan with expressive breaths over some of the filthiest blues-rock and herb induced jams around. I continually have to remind myself that this is their debut. The opener, New Age, blasts like a motorbike exhaust; it's then you realise the road trip has started. Lord is an expertly handled lazy rock ballad and, later on, the early days of black metal rip through the moshingly good White Dove.

Of course they don't always get it right. Slow motion drums and comically über-compressed bass nearly topple the effect. Vast, layered guitar solos slip into a kind of navel-gazing competition between one another leaving the listener behind. And duet lyrics such as "Baby don't worry/ don't be silly" are... questionable. Sure, it's not a flawless release, but the short, compact length and blaring confidence mark them tailors among fools. This is drifting and heavy, trippy and twisted, effortlessly cool rock. It gives you the fuel you need to put aviator shades on and take it easy.

(© Copyright 2009 Brendan Morgan)

Yppah - "They Know What Ghost Know"

Successfully separating himself from other Ninja Tune artists (Amon Tobin, Bonobo, Mr Scruff), Joe Corrales (aka Yppah) grinds his own blend of folktronica from an eclectic mix of influences. From light-headed hip-hop and 60's psychedelia, to ear ringing shoegaze; the result is a seasonal release just short of perfection. The tracks are a little thrown together but the warm and hazy tone ultimately melts it into unity. Alien birds call to each other in the distance. Scratchy, insect-like distortion buzzes triumphantly. Echoing guitar melodies stroll through long grass. All of which would spin out of control if not for some precision broken beats to keep it in earth's orbit.

There are some beautiful moments. Halfway through the title track, someone opens a window to let in a refreshing breeze of rock organ, reminiscent of The Doors or The Misunderstood. It even goes a bit Aphex Twin in the middle of The Tingling. Besides variation, this feeling of reflection and deja vu is Corrales initial attraction. He pits a harmonic balance between what we know and recognise, against an education of compelling sonic oddity. The promotional review calls it "music which is epic and intimate all at once". I call it stealth experimentation with enough variation to occupy the shortest of attention spans. They Know What Ghost Know is an organic album that grows with each listen and is an essential for the summer.

(© Copyright 2009 Brendan Morgan)

William Orbit - "My Oracle Lives Uptown"

Yep, everyone's favourite producer is back. William Orbit was the guy who could turn shit into hit and, in some cases, grant profitable career turns for a few plastic egos. His classical background and open attitudes to experimentation seemed to continually give him the edge. By allowing a glimmering originality to emanate through anything he touched, he came to define 90's ambient groove.

But a lot has happened in electronic music since his withdraw from the mainstream and Orbit is stuck in the last decade - on one big ecstasy comedown. Granted, it would be unfair to expect him, or any artist, to adjust to a contemporary sound. A true reclusive composer is unlikely to be a la mode. What is expected, however, is a bold leap into the unknown; because if anyone could make it, Orbit could.

Eighth notch down on the solo bedpost, My Oracle Lives Uptown is nothing more than well crafted, focusing on the head rather than the soul. The anticipation of something exotic is being caged in by a worn out pop song structure. It starts well - offbeat pulses and modal harmony unravel and reform creating a colourful hypnosis - but eventually loses its way. His signature use of Casio keyboard is tired and out of place among the otherwise lush landscapes. We eventually find him flogging old tricks: melodrama and stoned pontification.

The album leaves where it came in. Minimal textures wave a goodbye and phase into nothingness. Somehow, I get the feeling Orbit’s keeping his greatest creations from us.

(© Copyright 2009 Brendan Morgan)