Crippled Black Pheonix - (Mankind) The Crafty Ape (Mascot)

“Use your anger to creatively destroy your oppressors.” These are the opening words from Crippled Black Pheonix’s newest album, a call to arms announced by a vocoder voice that sets the mood of the rest of the record. Led by Justin Greaves, the band is the unification of a hand full of seasoned musicians with a taste for serious minded Rock.

But what’s the real deal here? Are CBP using the rising dissident to further their own gain or are they providing musical sustenance to the global protest movement? This is the danger with the term ‘political band’ and I’m hesitant to use it on CBP. Bands like U2 and The Manic Street Preachers were once awarded it and now, after achieving fame and success, these swaggering tycoons jet around the world, selling their antiestablishment egotism. We’ve developed automatic scepticism of musicians that attach themselves to social struggle; perhaps finally realising that almost anything can be exploited for profit and that the Rock Star lifestyle, as much as any other modern hypocrisy, is very much apart of the problem.

But if CBP are not a ‘political band’ then they are at the very least politically inclined and this is a far more free and effective position to be in. Despite it all: job cuts, privatisation and rioting, there are not many artists around who can turn anxiety into the language of resistance.

Whatever their motivations, CBP make some excellent music. Their fifth release, (Mankind) The Crafty Ape is a rich and diverse record that matches the disgruntled lyrics perfectly. While their previous records were more atmospherically based, this one takes a step past despair and further into rebellion. Cross breeding Pink Floyd’s inventive structure with Radiohead’s gloominess and dissatisfaction, their music is a well-devised and heavyweight Prog Rock with the kind of inherent quality that can only derive from solid musicianship and intensive gigging.

Enhanced by the raw clarity of the production, the group explore both a range of tones and their own ability achieving the execution. ‘The Heart of Every Country’ feels very Floyd indeed (circa Animals) with its grand composition of sailing guitar solos and thick piano chords. With stomping tom percussion and burning guitar lines, ‘Laying Traps’ is a driving piece of work and the video sees the band don gas masks and anarchic attire for a performance interspersed with scenes of protest. ‘Release The Clowns’, while swaggering like The Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, gives a final warning before the close: “Gather your belongings ‘cause the revolution’s coming”.

Though sounding completely different, (Mankind) The Crafty Ape follows PJ Harvey’s Let England Shake for an appraisal of this country’s decent into mismanagement and irrelevance. Some may be put off by the band’s consciously dark focus but it must be taken it for what it is. While more and more bands appear to be drifting into escapism and nostalgia, there are still some on the other side, drawing their inspiration from realism and suggesting that maybe, just maybe, things aren’t going too well and we might need to do something about it. Otherwise, as CBP say, “Just keep on complaining, and someone will hear you”.

(© Copyright 2012 Brendan Morgan)

Applescal – rtfkt 01

Overshadowed by a host of club demigods like Deadmau5, Mouse on Mars and the mainstream domination of Skrillex, Applescal has long been throwing stones at giants. Crafting his own electronic sound since art school and taking it around the venues of Amsterdam, his sets are less demanding of your attention, yet totally absorbing, classy and full of variation, evolving sometimes gradually, sometimes dramatically but always toying with your expectations.

‘El Diablo’ begins with calm and phasing synths when suddenly, the whole track winds down like a cathedral sinking down a wormhole, allowing the leading element, a fuzzy, off key melody to take over. Dropping the temperature a little to a more soothing and disconnected groove, ‘Mr Cold’ is the most likely to continue past a casual listen. The third and final track, the ironically named ‘No Offence’, is the weakest by far. It appears at first to be a sort of satirical take on a filthy dubstep anthem but looses its punch to become not so much offensive, just plain irritating.

Still, it’s this kind of experimentation that will pay off in time. Applescal has grown adept at blending up different club styles as well as proving that the dance music staple, a simple layering of a tune over a few rolling beats still has plenty to offer. At just under twelve minutes long, the new EP is less of a bold new direction, more of a bold taster release from RTFKT. It’s solid stuff, considering it’s completely free to download, but seeing as his true talents reveal themselves on his remixes and lengthy live sets, I’m holding on for an album.

(© Copyright 2012 Brendan Morgan)

Heroin In Tahiti - Death Surf (Boring Machines)

Mixing sluggish surf melodies with spacey Art Rock drones, this debut project from Heroin in Tahiti has caused a bit of a stir, undoubtedly effected by the way these two seasoned musicians from east Rome kept their identity a secret until its release. The blogosphere has been eager to attach labels such as Kroutrock to their sound, but Heroin In Tahiti seem to be at odds over outside comparisons preferring to cite Ennio Morricone’s music from the old Spaghetti Westerns as their main influence. The cool, unforgiving edge of these cult films, their rough characters and barren desert setting which lies on Heroin In Tahiti’s very doorstep, eek their way out of the EP. The whole record radiates with heat, dread, isolation and stoned paralysis.

The fact that they focus on their country’s cultural history during this age of global connection is worth noting but as always, there are some external influences going on; namely Surf Rock, an American export. It brings to mind the cinema of Tarantino and Rodriguez, who were in turn influenced by the Spaghetti Westerns and have been partly responsible for Surf Rock’s revival.

A relentlessly sinister mood sets in right from the start. The title track introduces their characteristic arrangement: minimal guitars, awash with distortion and massive reverb drift over a shimmering pool of sound effects and unusual percussion. It’s followed by ‘Spaghetti Wasteland’, trotting solemnly along and layering up on itself to make for a rich mix. Side B however is where they really prove themselves. Carefully building tension, ‘Ex-Giants on Dope’ is like a Mexican standoff where some serious shit is about to kick off and ‘Sartana’, with its ghostly wa-wa guitar and death bell tolling underneath, rides like a wild chase into the night.

Death Surf is an engrossing and hypnotic record, visual and vibrant with a definitive style. It holds you in its grip, right up to its unsettling conclusion. But I’d say the EP still feels chained by a film context. Some tracks, soaked in dense atmosphere and lacking a sense of narrative, can be stagnant and weighed down. Composed during times of disgruntled social unrest that continues to boil, Death Surf is still an intriguing example of Rome’s brooding underground scene.

(© Copyright 2012 Brendan Morgan)