April Round-Up

If I come off as a hater each time when Bon Iver releases an album, don't think twice. When it comes to the music of Bon Iver, I am a hater. There are probably millions of people who will tell you that the guy has saved their life or something, but that's not me. I once wrote this piece about Bon Iver, and I'm not sure I have anything new to say here. Sable, fable is just as insipid and formulaic as ever. And if I can salvage something from the decent folk tune "Things Behind Things Behind Things" (closest in style to his first album), the second side is a total fucking disaster. Autotune, annoying falsetto and a bunch of primitive melodies that are simply no good at all. And what on Earth is with the cartoonish voice in "Walk Home"? Is that supposed to be some sort of catharsis? Because to my ears it just sounds sickening. 

I actually never cared too much for Viagra Boys and never get the urge to relisten to any of their past albums, but I really enjoyed their new LP. Viagr Aboys is ridiculous dance-punk that sounds a little like a cross between Franz Ferdinand and Captain Beefheart. Some crazy lyrics ("Uno II"), some great melodies ("Pyramid of Health") and even a couple of oddly 'normal' ballads at the end of each side. "Medicine for Horses" is very reminiscent of Arcade Fire and "River King" might actually drive you to tears. 

Sadly, I'm afraid to report that Mike Scott hasn't recorded a good album since the excellent Modern Blues from 2015. This new concept album by The Waterboys about Hollywood titled Life, Death and Dennis Hopper is an interesting idea but that's about it. There is an endless list of songs here, all of them rather short (some are instrumentals, some are interludes), many in different styles (blues, country, folk, even punk) but other than the subdued power ballad "I Don't Know How I Made It", there is not a single song here that I would care to hear again. I don't mind passion projects, I just can't accept this amount of middling songwriting.

Nothing says middle age like these latest albums by Craig Finn (whether solo or as part of Hold Steady). Always Been (God what a nondescript album title) is your classic Craig Finn fare with big heartland melodies and lyrics that balance between drama and understatement. "Luke & Leanna" is the perfect example of what I'm talking about; the melody is catchy and uplifting and the lyrics will make you break down during the next therapy session. I used to find him monotonous, but now I just simply enjoy the songs. 

Finally, now that the dust and the hype have settled, I can repeat that Forever Howlong by Black Country, New Road is an excellent album that keeps getting better with time. Each new listen reveals just how much craft and care (and overthinking, sometimes) went into these songs. Full review.

Songs of the month:

"Spike Island" by Pulp

"Drowned In A Sea Of Tears" by Sparks

"Ballad Of The Last Payphone" by The New Pornographers

"Two Horses" by Black Country, New Road

"Pyramid Of Health" by Viagra Boys

"Luke & Leanna" by Craig Finn

"I Don't Know How I Made It" by The Waterboys

"Chambermaid" by Suzanne Vega (I know, I know, but still)

On Mulholland Drive. Again.

Every time that I hear that ominous hum and step into the world of Mulholland Drive, my heart stops. Or, rather, it expands, and fills me with a rather complex feeling of warmth, dread and confusion. It is every shade of the original meaning of the word 'awesome' rolled into one perfect cinematic experience, and after all these years I still cannot get over it.

Mulholland Drive is my favourite film of all time, and this time in Warsaw, I finally got the chance to see it on the big screen. Besides the sheer joy of watching the film for the umpteenth time, I was genuinely excited about sharing this experience with those who have never seen Mulholland Drive before. I envy them. In their presence, I feel like a smoking addict who has to abstain but who can still sniff nicotine off the cigarettes of other people. I feel like a Belarusian who cannot go back but who leans closer to those who hold tickets for tomorrow.

The cinema in central Warsaw was not packed but it did not need to be. This was a special one-off screening very late in the evening, on Easter Monday, that was not heavily advertised. Which means that everyone who came simply had to be there. They gasped, they gulped, they held their breath. Every step of the way there was a sense that I knew exactly what they were going through: the thrill, the bewilderment, the inexplicable catharsis. I fed off their energy.

Not that I needed that to enjoy Mulholland Drive, of course. The world of David Lynch is so multi-dimensional you can always discover a new turn or a passage you have never seen before. The song from the Silencio club will get a new undertone. The close-up in apartment 17 will appear more shocking. The nightmare recounted in Winkie's diner will acquire a new meaning. This time, for instance, I was more impressed than ever by the clarity of Lynch's vision and how tight that surreal and seemingly confusing world really is. For every loose end disappears and every key finds its lock. Like I have always said: if you do not understand Inland Empire, it is okay. That film is not even entirely gettable, other than on a purely intuitive level. Saying that about Mulholland Drive, however, betrays a certain lack of attention.

So it was a little less dread and confusion this time, and a lot more warmth. Because even at his most shocking and brutal (it was just as brutal for the actors, too, and I remember an interview with Naomi Watts where she spoke about her frustration while the famous couch scene was being shot), you get the feeling that there is always good around the corner, not just evil. It is always there, an inherent part in David Lynch's films. And whether it is present in reality or in a dream is somewhat immaterial - because when it comes to Lynch, those two realms are of absolutely equal importance. 

"Forever Howlong" by Black Country, New Road

First of all, why do I even care? I care because over the past three years I have come to view Ants From Up There as something of a modern-day classic. Normally, it takes a little longer for that word to sink in and take shape, and yet every time I put this album on, it just keeps astounding me with its melodic intensity and Isaac Wood's mystique. Ants From Up There is nervy, rich and expansive. It is like Funeral for the 2020s. 

The live album of all new material in 2023 proved that there was, indeed, life after Isaac Wood, and I even went to see them during the European tour later that year. In a rather small club in Warsaw (certainly smaller than their current stock would suggest), they were both charming and brilliant. They refused to play anything from the first two albums, which I thought was commendable, but they did perform a few songs from their much anticipated third studio album. The new material sounded great, and I still can't forget the emotional outburst of a Polish guy standing next to me: "Your new album is going to be fire!"

And now, a year and a half later, the new album is here. It is titled Forever Howlong, and you either hate it or love it to death. 

Another incentive for this review was a snide dismissal of the album I have recently come across on the Internet. Two words, in fact, that were supposed to encapsulate everything that is wrong with Forever Howlong.  'Whimsical and convoluted'. Because, oddly, I concur. It is both incisive and absolutely true. The problem is - I still think this is a great album  and the second best thing they have ever done.

As it is customary with Black Country, New Road, the album requires multiple listens. Which I guess is a very generic thing to say but this, in fact, is where the 'convoluted' bit comes into play. Because the melodies are certainly there. Rather conventional showtime styled tunes crop up in songs like "Salem Sisters" and "The Big Spin" but it is as if they are genuinely frightened of being too accessible, too on the nose, and thus they keep twisting and bending those melodies and overriding them with new ones. Which is not necessarily a bad thing, because these guys know their way around a good vocal hookline. As a matter of fact, I was singing the somewhat throwawayish "The Big Spin" to myself earlier today. Not the full thing, mind you, but a few of those unforgettable snippets.

Alternatively, Forever Howlong can be described as progressive folk for people suffering from attention deficiency. It is fragmented and, indeed, convoluted. It is filled with the sounds of a recorder and features lyrics about apple pies and gut microbiomes. That is to say, it is very whimsical. At first, I could even understand the disappointment, it is just that the intriguing songcraft and excellent musicianship always made me come back for me.  

With that said, even after five or six listens I still do not get the title song. To my ears, it features no melody whatsoever at all and is basically just five endless minutes of cutesy cuteness (chop it off, and you get a perfectly serviceable single album). Also, I do miss the voice of the saxophone guy who, as it transpires, was originally supposed to sing "Salem Sisters". I have nothing against the three ladies who perform on Forever Howlong, but the vocal diversity of Live At Bush Hall was a great touch. Finally, there is a sense that the production is a little overwrought and deprives these songs of a certain air that made them so appealing in the live setting. 

But those complaints are, in fact, minor quibbles, because Forever Howlong just gets better with every listen. The details keep piling on, and I am not only talking about the four six-minute epics which dominate this album (one of them is, of course, titled "Socks" - clearly they are not above painting a big target on their backs (just look at that cover)). Shorter songs like "Goodbye (Don't Tell Me)" and "Happy Birthday" are all intricately played and intricately composed. Even the ballad "Mary" which may at first appear somewhat uneventful features a complex melody that you might just start singing along to. Out of the epics, my favourite is probably the gorgeous and protean "Two Horses" that masterfully transitions from sweet lyricism to the beautiful and ever-intensifying galloping rhythm (the one that comes after the majestic 'night and day' vocal hook).

Do they always deliver? Is the pay off always worth it? Is there orgasm after foreplay and endless teasing? Having lived with this album for almost a week now, I would say yes. Ants From Up There was a more cohesive and concerted statement and thus hit me harder, but the sheer amount of ideas they managed to cram into this album is still very impressive. Forever Howlong is flawed. It is, yes, whimsical and convoluted. But what a special and supremely talented band they are. I can't wait to see what they do next.