"Speed Law" by Mos Def.

Ear space currently being gobbled up by these:

"Nemesis" by Benjamin Clementine.

"Runaway" by Yeah Yeah Yeahs.

"Not the Sun" by Brand New.

Agnes Obel's version of Elliott Smith's "Between the Bars".

"Velouria" by Pixies.

"Poor Atlas" by Dessa.

Review: One For The Road by Red Ray

Delighted to announce that the lovely chaps of Red Ray are releasing their debut album One For The Road. Here's a sneak (p)review:

Alcohol. You’ve (probably) consumed it, I’ve (definitely) consumed it, and we’ve all heard stories dominated by it: good times, bad times, ridiculous times. All three categories may well have been marked by raucous, fun-at-the-time renditions of your favourite songs (and/or significant chunks of Oasis’ oeuvre). Bristol-based, Geordie-fronted stomp-inducing quartet Red Ray have taken the good, bad and ridiculous drunken times and converted them into something a little more enduring: thoroughly fun music. Their debut album One For The Road looks set to soundtrack, recall and inspire great nights out and in.

The record’s title is no red herring - several of the song titles (“Bring Me Back to Gin”, “Bartender (Give me a Corona)”, “When the Drinking’s Good”...), the here-urgent, there-fitful cadence of the tracks, and the lyrics themselves mean the album has the feel of glorious intoxication running right through it.

 We all know that Bristol is something of a factory of great records. But as any resident will tell you, the live scene is where the day-to-day gems are found. Condensing a storming, irresistible live sound onto record is no mean feat, but Red Ray have just about pulled it off here. Ray Lannon’s voice - Newcastle nuance and all - is wonderfully, perhaps necessarily refreshing for the genre, lending the songs an authenticity that is immediately engaging. This isn’t American music by Brits. It’s good, honest, drink-fuelled fun; country music, but not as you know it.

A few things are immediately apparent upon listening to One For The Road. This is a band that has the easy confidence of experienced live performers. A glance at the group’s website confirms it - all four members are at the very least local live scene veterans. Their combined résumé consists of world touring, award-winning, and (probably) ass-kicking. Their music is fully focussed on the latter. Jai Widdowson-Jones’s drumming coaxes and cajoles the songs’ momentum. Lannon’s voice has a confidence and power that tops off each track’s propulsion. Guitarist and second vocalist Cam Cheek is a worthy partner in crime.

Red Ray’s speciality appears to be the irresistible stomp, music to be played loud. “Bartender (Give me a Corona)’s” brief, eventful stagger through an evening continues opener “Back on Track”s theme of the haplessly, hopelessly drunk protagonist who finds solace, fights and fun through liquor. “Slowly, Slowly”, contrary to the title’s implication, is arguably the definitive strut in an album packed with them. “Miles” provides brief respite from the breakneck pace of much of the album, and it’s no coincidence that its subject matter is the harrowing Tube journey before the protagonist’s next swig, rather than the subsequent downings. It also lays bare the band’s instrumental and harmonic sensitivity, and might just be Lannon’s best performance on the album.

The danger of cramming music this energetic onto a record is that serves as little more than an underwhelming advert for the band’s gigs. One For The Road swerves this nicely. Make no mistake: you’ll still want to see them live, but the album does Red Ray justice. Drunken, absurdly fun justice at that.



It's been a busy, turbulent year, but I've managed to squeeze in some music. I've been lucky enough to contribute to the fantastic blog at The Monitors, attend some great gigs (Agnes Obel and Vaults, I'm looking at you) and hear some brilliant new music. Ivy Dances has been a little neglected, but I'll be giving it a revamp in the New Year. More reviews, more music, and a bit more colour. In the meantime, here's "Anxiety's Door" by the excellent Merchandise, victims of my latest gig clash (Vaults were the beneficiaries).

"Desert" by Other Lives.

"On The Water" by The Walkmen.

"No More" by Ester Rada, from her new album.

"Bel Air" by Can.

"Violet Stars Happy Hunting!" by Janelle Monae.

Today marks 217 years since the birth of the great Franz Schubert. Here's Artur Schnabel playing his compatriot's B Flat Impromptu, from the D935 set.

"Walking Over You" by David Thomas Broughton.

"Looking For Someone" by East India Youth, from his new album Total Strife Forever, which flits between busy electronica and desolate, Glass-y vistas. Something tells me I'll like the album a little more on a summer's evening, but it's keeping me interested enough for now.

"Allô Paris" by Mano Solo.

Today marks the 258th anniversary of Mozart's birth. Here is the famous 1967 recording of his (and Sussmayr's) Requiem by the BBC Symphony Orchestra, conducted by the much lamented Sir Colin Davis. Helen Dorath, Yvonne Minton, Ryland Davies, Gerd Nienstedt, and the John Alldis Choir lend their voices.

"Meltdown" by Ghostpoet.

"The Stone Lanes" by Three Cane Whale.

"Maangamizi" by Akala.

The great Italian conductor Claudio Abbado has died at the age of 80. Here he and the Lucerne Festival Orchestra perform Mahler's Symphony No. 5.

"Werewolf" by Cat Power.

Glenn Gould plays the Toccata from J.S. Bach's Partita No.6 in E Minor.

"Hidden XS" by Fuck Buttons.