The Inability To Write

I've been wanting to do a review of the new Embrace album since last week when I got hold of a copy. I thought it would be good to write a review for indietron of a CD that wasn't even in the shops yet. Realising I guess that nobody would really see it until we had finished designing the site (whenever that will be, I dunno, it's bugging me though how lazy I'm being), I didn't do it. I also thought the album was sensational and wanted to do it justice.
During a slow afternoon yesterday I knocked up the below review. I'm not 100% happy with it. I don't think it flows very well, it meanders when it should attract the attention of whoever reads it. At one stage I thought I was going to end up writing a book about the history of Britpop. I'll leave that to Stuart Macaroni. I also think my review is occasionally cliched and shows that I was sometimes struggling for superlatives.
Writing about music is always difficult, and sometimes totally futile. Music should always be about emotions, yet it is hard to get these across to somebody, especially when the emotional effect that music gives you is always personal to yourself.
To express my emotions I'll usually resort to swear words, this will usually have the desired effect, as long as I want to appear angry, bitter and mildly psychotic. I tried to write the below review in a way that shows that the new Embrace album makes me feel fantastic. I deliberately steered clear of expletives, and therefore found my task ten times harder. I had to stop myself writing 'this track is fucking fantastic' on numerous occasions as I wanted to be more inventive. Which is probably why it disappoints me slightly, as I don't think I've been inventive enough.
So here is the rough draft of the review, I'll keep poring over it until I give myself a nosebleed, and it'll probably look way different on indietron. Still, I'd like to record something that drove me mad yesterday afternoon.

Britpop threw up a handful of bands which crossed over the indie/student divide and became hugely popular in the country as a whole. Oasis, Blur and maybe Pulp are examples of this. As the Britpop flame flickered and died around 1997-1998, it produced possibly it's final band that grabbed the public consciousness in The Verve. As success surrounded them though, they blew up on the launchpad, an inevitable end for such a fractured band. Oasis produced a woeful third album, just when their fame was at its height; Blur and Pulp took a step back and retreated into their artistic and experimental side.
The country moved on, The Stereophonics and later Travis picked up large followings but nothing like those strange days from 1994-1997 when guitar bands sprung up all over the place and even your granny had heard of them all.
Whereas the early years of Britpop were about being brash, full of coke and "mad fer'it", bands such as The Verve and Embrace marked a move away from that. Tony Blair was being all touchy-feely, Princess Di had been killed, we were meant to be in touch with our feelings. There was still the cocky swagger there in the music, but it was okay to show your vulnerability.
Embrace had their anthemic call to arms (All You Good Good People), the confrontational don't mess with me or my mates number (One Big Family) and the sensitive lost love song (Come Back To What You Know). The first album hit the top of the charts, but it showed on actually listening to it that what you'd heard so far was not so much a façade but rather not the whole truth.
The big and bold numbers on The Good Will Out were the ones that hit you straight away, guitar pop with colossal choruses. They were the ones I liked at first, but then I was driving around with the album in my car and realised I had my mouth open in disbelief. I'd gone shopping, but had to abandon the trip so I could listen again. And again.
Songs such as Retread, That's All Changed Forever and Higher Sights had hidden their beauty from me on the first couple of listens. Now they revealed it all. I was speechless. I know people to this day who will call Embrace "sub-oasis drivel" which shows a staggering level of ignorance. The Gallagher brothers couldn't dream of or even understand making a batch of records so delicate, beautiful, powerful yet also understated.
It guaranteed that Embrace were never going to be The Stereophonics, and gather that laddish following. It gave them a support though, and one which to this very day seems uncommonly committed and loyal. Mark Beaumont may call them "fey indie wimps" but it seems quite hard to pigeonhole a typical fan.
Second album 'Drawn From Memory' was more from the same blueprint. Songs such as 'Save Me' will get casual fans dancing and jumping up and down, but the sensitive and unassuming fan will be the one quietly hoping for the band to play that albums title track.
It was the law of diminishing returns however, Drawn From Memory sold less than its predecessor and bands such as Travis and Coldplay were the ones in the limelight. It was strange to see so many people flocking to the "emote-lite" version of what Embrace had been doing for a couple of years. Both Travis and Coldplay are not afraid to show their emotions on their sleeves and to let you know what sensitive boys they are. And that is part of the problem I have with them - the fact that it is all for show, the emotion and feeling in the record is open for you straight away, like a cheap whore. There are no hidden levels, no surprises. It's all there for you on the first listen. It makes them sound a bit wet and anodyne. My other problem being with them (this is more about Coldplay than Travis) is that they just don't have the tunes.
Embrace's third album fell into this trap. If You've Never Been was mellow and fell in the category that I mention above. Wonder and Make It Last were great tunes, yet it all felt signposted; it felt like it had been made so mellow and quiet to help people pick out the emotion in the songs.
It didn't sell well, Embrace fans thought that this was a wrong turn to take and the casual listener had moved on. The well of Embrace tunes seemed to have run dry.
The band was dropped by Hut records, apparently owing the label 1.7 million pounds. If a large gap in time had been left before the band were snapped up by Independiente then I think that may have been it, but the labels head honcho was a big fan of the band.
Out Of Nothing owes a lot to Independiente boss Andy MacDonald and the producer Youth. Both showed the band the way back to the path, and that for a song to elicit feelings in the listener it didn't have to be whispered. Youth produced The Good Will Out and through a series of fractious arguments and shouting matches, he wrestled control of the sound of the current record. The band regained their 'mojo' and once again realised that you can produce powerful and emotive songs without losing the point behind it, or it sounding bombastic.
Out of Nothing is sensational. The sound of a band with its fire re-ignited, who know the way they want to go. It is populist, unafraid of how "full-on" it sounds and whereas it may shout out 'here I am!', it is not all on show here. There is a depth to each track that Chris Martin would stab fair-trade coffee growers to obtain.
Opener Ashes was meant to be a slow piano ballad. It would have taken the If You've Never Been route and been 'quite nice'. Producer Youth cranked it up, added a strong "four to the floor" beat and turned it into a monster. Whereas before it would have been an album track for obsessive fans to…well obsess over, now it is a call to arms and the next single. Embrace have found their lucky bag of huge choruses again and Ashes has one of the biggest. Not the biggest however.
Someday has been in the chorus bag for a few years but has never had the right verse attached to it. Well it does now, and the song could knock down walls. Many songs start with a quiet verse and then build up to a chorus. Someday starts with what sounds like a chorus, then straps a bigger chorus on top of it. You're left wondering where the hell the song can go from here, until the planet sized chorus arrives. I actually think it may be a bit too much for a single, sheer euphoria can seem out of place on a radio. Live though I think it could explode venues.
Sandwiched in-between Ashes and Someday is Gravity, the Chris Martin penned track. It sounds like a very good Coldplay song and an Embrace b-side. On it's own it stood as a fairly decent track, here though it just looks way out of its depth. And as I mentioned before, the depth thing is the whole problem. To gain your attention Gravity will tap you on the shoulder, the rest of this album would punch you in the face.
After Someday the CD cannot keep going 'up'. So the next two tracks take their foot off the gas. Again though Looking As You Are and Wish 'Em All Away could have strayed dangerously close to being insipid and inconsequential if this wasn't the new Embrace. Both tracks are heavily melodic but show a power that is reminiscent of the Higher Sights and Retread combo on The Good Will Out.
They also perfectly prepare for Keeping, a track that reminds me of those early days listening to the debut album. On the first couple of listens I thought it sounded quite nice, now I find the appropriate superlative hard to find. Built from a spiralling chorus which should finally put to bed questions about Danny McNamara's voice, it offers probably my favourite lyrics on the whole album. It is a simple tale of love lost and never bettered, but the melody and lyrics are in perfect harmony. The overall result is dizzying.
Spell It Out is standard anthemic fare, another big chorus and another potential live favourite.
Youth got his way on pretty much everything, all was to be bigger and bolder on this record. There was however one track which the band refused completely to compromise on. In a way Glorious Day feels out of place, a delicate ballad, it probably would have sat well on If You've Never Been. Though it would have been one of the best tracks on there. The lyrics are the most immediate, yet some of the most affecting; the chorus is from the heavens.
In many ways the last three tracks on Out Of Nothing sound like they've come from a different album. The first seven tracks are all melodic guitar indie/pop, but whereas Glorious Day was a sumptuous ballad, Near Life and Out Of Nothing are almost 'experimental' guitar tracks.
Near Life has a mumbled lyric, squalling guitars and shows a side to the band that not many have seen before. It may be a taster of what is to come, it may just be a showcase of "hey look what we could do if we wanted to". Its swooping guitars and virtually wordless chorus may not appeal to current fans immediately, though it may actually attract new ones wondering who the hell has done this.
The album title track starts as a ballad but then explodes into more squalling guitars, a thrilling climax to an album. It is epic, different, yet in many ways a trademark Embrace album closer.
The pre-conceived ideas of Embrace as dreary soppy miserabilists has always been unfair. With the arrival of Out of Nothing it now seems laughable. As a return from the wilderness and a step back into the limelight it is virtually faultless. Any mistakes made here could have been fatal to the survival of the band, but they have made a bold and brave return; an album unafraid to attach a huge tune to its heartstrings.

Nearer Than Devon

I should read my blog back before putting it on the intercyberweb for people to read. I use word to type it all in, but because I wilfully use the wrong spelling of words sometimes it renders the spelling checker obsolete. I scanned back yesterdays blog before deleting it from my blog word document and noticed a couple of spelling mistakes, and several uses of the wrong punctuation.
Yesterday lunchtime, I hid the copy of NME in the Spar shop opposite work. I folded it in half and hid it behind some PS2 magazines. I felt quite bad about this at first, like I was stopping somebody buying a magazine that may make his or her day a little brighter. Then I thought about it and realised that the NME won't make anyone's life happier. With the £1.80 I'll be saving somebody they'll be able to treat somebody they love and brighten up two lives. I may even get somebody some extra "jiggy" with my selfless deed. Hey, maybe a guy will use that money he has saved to buy his girlfriend some flowers (some Netto £1.80 thistles). She'll be so happy that she'll agree to have his babies and in 9 months time will give birth to a baby boy. A baby boy who'll then grow up to be the leader of the resistance against the killer robots which will terrorise us all. The resistance will win, yes it will my doubtful friend. We shall be free of robot tyranny once more.
How many of you can say that your actions during your lunchtime yesterday led to the emancipation of mankind from robot slavery? Maybe one or two of you but not many I bet.
After meeting Embrace on Friday I plan to go to HMV and hide all the Paul Weller albums. Weller you see is only 150 copies ahead of Embrace in the charts at the moment. I need to do my bit for the cause.
It turns out that the guy who wrote the album review for NME, is the same guy who wrote a review in the magazine a couple of months ago which made my blood boil. The offending review is here. My one and only problem with the aforementioned review is that it slags off several Glenn-bands. Idlewild, Embrace, Easyworld, Kenickie, The Bluetones and The Music all get a slagging. It seemed designed to piss me off.
It does prove my point of yesterday though, that they gave Out of Nothing to a guy they knew would hate it. That just seems stupid.

It was good to see Liverpool win last night, especially as their performance showed a flair and creativity that we've been missing in recent years. As I lay in bed however there was one aspect of the game on my mind which made me feel quite sad.
About twenty minutes into the game the cameras showed Gerard Houllier sat in the crowd. He looked well wrapped up in his scarf and big jacket and clutched his programme close to his chest. The whole picture just gave me an impression of dignified sadness.
Gerard loved Liverpool football club. It must be sad to see his team playing on a European night, to see a new manager in control, whilst he sits as an ordinary spectator, holding the match-day programme that used to contain his manager notes. There is a new face there now though, both in the programme and the dugout and the sadness this must cause Gerard is quite obvious.
When he was sacked, he asked to walk around Anfield for one last time. I found the dignified way he did this and the obvious love he had for the place to be heartbreaking.
In a game where footballers make the headlines every day for acts of gross stupidity, insensitivity and behave like they are above the morals and laws of normal people, Gerards desire to produce good people as well as good footballers stood out like a sore thumb. He was sometimes immensely protective of his players, but he cared for them as people. He wanted them to develop and become the "good people" that he spoke about.
He is a man who shows a great deal of passion and determination for the game, even coming back from life-threatening surgery to return to the job he dedicated so much of his life too. Yet through all this he showed a great deal of humanity, realising that it was a game that had responsibility to the local area and the wider world. When The Grauniad asked various sportsmen what they desired for the forthcoming year, amongst all the men/women who spoke about achieving their personal motives, Gerard stood out in declaring his concerns and wishes for the young people in the world.
After losing his job, many would have turned on the club through a mixture of disappointment and bitterness. Gerard maintained his dignity and support for the club.
A brave, proud and good man, I hope Gerard is happy again very, very soon.

We Will All Sow As We Reap Someday

The review of Out of Nothing in the NME could have gone one of two ways. They could have given it to Mark Beaumont and it would probably have scored a 7 and been damned with faint praise. Conversely, they could have checked the "cool list" in the office, saw that Embrace's name wasn't on it and therefore passed it onto somebody who hated them. It would then probably get a 3 or a 4.
They gave it 1 out of 10.
So the latter happened.
Upon reading the review I felt really angry. Why give a CD to somebody for review that they are so determined to hate? If you gave me a CD for Funeral For A Friend to review, it'd be a disaster and I'd end up offending thousands of whiny teenagers who haven't grown up enough yet to have a decent music taste. It wouldn't be right; it'd be much better to give a FFAF (right kids!) CD to a 35 year old music journo at Metal Hammer, who could pretend he really liked them when he really preferred Iron Maiden and all those bands of the 1980s, when he didn't feel as fucking alone as he did right now, a man dressed in black with long thinning hair amongst teenagers who he actually despised.
Where am I going with this?
Anyway, the review mentioned virtually nothing about the album. It attacked Danny's voice and that the band were dreary. Oh, nobody has attacked Danny's voice before - nice one!
You see the NME only loves those bands who record their album in a week, preferably using the sloppiest production techniques possible. Whereas The White Stripes can get away with this because they're actually really really good, the latest Libertines album sounds like it was recorded on a Fisher Price home studio. Maybe Pete Doherty sold all the other equipment for smack, but the result sounds like a wasted opportunity. The songs don't soar, they crawl and are lost in mumbles and the feeling that their hearts aren't actually in it.
I don't want to harp on about The Libertines as Carl Barat seems like a decent man, and some of their songs actually do hit the right buttons, but the romanticism of Pete Doherty's addiction in the NME is faintly nauseating. Every second or third week there is an interview with the man in which he comes across as a whiny self-indulgent tosser.
"Carl doesn't want me in the band"
"Why is Carl being mean to me?"
"Oh woe is me"
Barat comes across as somebody who has tried his hardest to stand by his friend, and has shown endless patience as Doherty not only pisses away his own chances in life, but also selfishly those of his friend. But no he doesn't see that. He just sees his next hit and next opportunity to play the romantic fucked-up victim. Selfish twat!
The Cooper Temple Clause are another example of the way NME deals with a band. When TCTC (hey kids! *wink*) first appeared they received disinterest from the magazine. But their first album See This Through And Leave was fantastic and quickly got the band a dedicated following; the sort of people who'd write into NME every week expressing their love for the band in bright green glitter pens. Then Didz from the band almost died from an infection. Suddenly the NME became interested. They saw a market here and potential readers to pander to. So they obsessed about the band and pretended they'd liked them all along.
Now, for some reason TCTC released their second album way too early. It wasn't strong enough and showed that the band really hadn't been given long enough to write and strengthen their ideas. Still, the NME loved it. The Cooper Temple Clause were now a band to support, a band that could attract readers. The fans didn't seem as keen on the album though, and the whole relation between the NME and TCTC showed how utterly wrong the people behind that shitrag could get things; how out of touch they were with the actual fucking things they were meant to be about.
Music.
(Jesus, I'm becoming such a righteous and pompous cunt. Fuck it though, I speak the truth)
You just have to flick through an issue of the NME to see that it looks like Heat for young people who want to appear cool. It long ago stopped being about music, the experience of hearing it live and on record. It became about the celebrity of music. Who is the drummer of The Strokes dating? How has Pete got himself in trouble this week? Look! A band called Selfish Cunt! Wow! How mad is that?
Maybe it has to be like that to survive. Melody Maker was informative, irreverent, funny and didn't want to be 'cool'. And it went to the wall.
Maybe the only market for the NME is to appeal to young people who want to dress like the in-bands of the moment, and don't really give a shit about what they sound like. Is it worth compromising yourself for survival though? Is it actually worth saving? No.
So the Embrace album goes against what the NME is saying is good at the moment. Out Of Nothing does show the fact that some sort of production has taken place, not in the sense that it loses the feeling of the thing, but that the songs are built on such a powerful wall of sound. There are many layers of instrumentation there, and whereas Embrace could be accused of bombast, the sheer size of the record doesn't swamp the emotion, passion, sentiment and experience poured into the songs. It highlights them; a quite difficult practice.
So, Embrace don't indulge in Grade A drugs until their core moral values are eroded away and they end up in prison. They don't paint swastikas on their hands and have a rude word in their band name. They don't boast in magazine interviews about groupies, being a lad or the gigantic amount of booze they have on their rider. So for the NME this makes them 'dreary' whereas I like to take from this that their not 'utter cunts'. The NME can continue producing it's tributes to Sid Vicious and anyone else who it feels have the spirit or "rawk n' roll"; I'll keep with my opinion that Sid Vicious is a dead, murdering fucking junkie who offered nothing.
I'll also keep my belief that the NME is now nothing more than a style-guide for pretentious teenage/twenty-something arsewits.
I was also angry at how it had probably made the band feel. They are understandably proud of the record; I know how much they've poured into the record over the last 3 years and how it made them ill, depressed, and despair if they'd ever make a record again. How upsetting must it have been to see that review? I'd have been distraught after what I'd done to see what was written. It wasn't constructive criticism; it was just personal abuse from somebody who really didn't like the band.
I want to give them all a big hug on Friday and tell them not to listen to those nasty boys. Maybe if I have enough to drink then that is actually what might happen.

It actually is a stunning record. I keep meaning to write a review of it for indietron but I don't know how to do it justice. I'll give it a go tomorrow I think.

The weekend round up will now commence.
On Friday we went to see Morrissey at the Guild Hall. We met up with Nige, Rich, Andy, his missus and her friend beforehand and had a few drinks. I like my workmates, they're good-natured and funny men. All share a love for Morrissey and any eighties indie.
The gig itself was quite good, and I feel it would have been even better had I extensive knowledge of their latest album. Maybe it would have been better if they hadn't have played the greatest Smiths song in 'How Soon Is Now' straight off. How do you actually follow that?
It was the first music gig I've ever seen in the Guild Hall and as with many large venues the sound suffers. With the stage positioned where it was, a lot of seats had to be left empty. This made it sound a bit like a barn, a lot of the actual noise made by Morrissey and his group was lost to the empty space. It also felt unusual when the whole thing finished at 10:30 with a single song encore. Still, allowed more time for booze.
Ah well, I felt it was important that I saw Morrissey before he vanished again back to America.
I didn't do much at the rest of the weekend. That was quite nice actually, to spend some time pottering and reading. I did manage to get drunk on Saturday night though, so some things haven't changed.