Alex Turner – Submarine.

Arctic Monkeys are probably the only ‘Web 2.0’ music success not funded on the QT by the established industry - I’m looking at you Sandi Thom - and became a phenomenon by sticking to their guns and writing eloquently in language with mass-market appeal; having the best drummer in many a year didn’t hurt either! Alex Turner and Miles Kane’s nascent super-group The Last Shadow Puppets 2008 effort The Age of the Understatement was an intriguing hybrid of his inimitable vocal styling and John Barry arrangements. After the slightly disappointing & over-produced Humbug, and squeezing in just ahead of the forthcoming Suck It and See, comes another side project, this one solo.

Submarine is the directorial movie debut of IT Crowd’s Richard Ayoade. It’s an 80s-set comedy-drama, based on the novel by Joe Dunthorne, concerning a 15 year-old’s attempts to lose his virginity while simultaneously saving his parents’ marriage. Turner has written the soundtrack… so far, so ‘Badly Drawn Boy’s About a Boy’.

What we have here is a short collection: 6 titles (although the opener is a 50 second preview of Stuck on the Puzzle, so 5½ songs may be more accurate), making it a - what? EP? Mini-album? Albumette? Whatever it is, it signifies a departure from his previous work; not exactly ground-breaking, but surprisingly wistful.

After the intro (piano & acoustic guitar refrain with a short, almost whispered verse) the set opens properly with Hiding Tonight. It’s hard not to think of fellow Sheffield cove Richard Hawley here; the lyrics remain firmly in familiar Turner territory (“I’ll know the way back if you know the way”), but the vocal delivery is restrained, understated and really rather lovely. Glass in the Park continues in the same vein: a great gentle melody delivering a paean to young love with minimal accompaniment.

It's Hard to Get Around the Wind is voice, acoustic guitar and typical Turner wordsmithery: “It’s like you’re trying to get to Heaven in a hurry and the queue is shorter than you thought it’d be and the doorman says ‘you need to get a wristband’” – which is then wonderfully rhymed with “quicksand”. Penultimate track Stuck on the Puzzle is a reverse-reprise of the opener, broadens the sound out to a more familiar band feel and is a real highlight. Piledriver Waltz is the most musically and lyrically complex track here, with shifts in the time signature and allusions to “breakfast at the Heartbreak Hotel" where "your waitress was miserable and so was your food".

All in all this is a really strong collection well worth investigation; in particular, Turner’s vocals are tuneful, melodic and well suited to this change of pace for him. I’m looking forward to seeing how these excellent songs play in the context of the film.

Submarine is now available as a CD, 10” vinyl or download from the usual outlets.

R.E.M. - Collapse into Now.

Approached this one with a mixture of (mild) anticipation and (greater) trepidation. REM are a band that I’ve followed for nearly 30 years, from their indie-pup days (I bought Murmur because of a review that read “welcome the American Gang of Four”) through the world-conquering 90s to their current ‘are they still going?’ status. The generally-held view seems to be that they jumped the shark when drummer Bill Berry left in 1997 and that they haven’t produced anything of real worth since. OK, one could argue that no entire collection since New Adventures in Hi-Fi has been a totally compelling set but it’s easy to forget, given the band’s longevity, that there have been real highlights since their realignment to a 3-piece core; obvious examples: The Great Beyond, Daysleeper, Bad Day, Imitation of Life, Leaving New York, Supernatural Superserious. I can think of many highly-rated bands who would like ‘duds’ such as those in their back catalogue.

Still, I have to admit that my slight apprehension was based upon a nagging feeling that REM have spent the last decade or so either treading water (the far-too-sombre Around the Sun) or trying too hard (the all-out-rock-attack of Accelerate). Reveal was a good-ole pop album but (with the exception of the aforementioned Imitation of Life) the tunes just weren’t from the top drawer. I have a lot of time for Up (which is probably the most disliked album of their career but, for me, generates a chill-out mood missing from most of their work and was, at least, adventurous) - but it’s hard not to agree with the perception that they haven’t been ‘essential’ for quite some time.

So… it’s 2011, 3 years on from Accelerate – is Collapse into Now worth the wait? Opening track Dicoverer isn’t bad at all – swirling echoing guitar hook with a slight Middle-Eastern feel and chanting vocals – and then comes the rockier All the Best, which would sit nicely on Life’s Rich Pageant. ÜBerlin seems to be a fairly meaningless plea to escape the daily drudge (some wittering on about changing stations & meteors) but does deliver a classic mid-period REM change of pace and has a typical quirky video to enhance the overall effect.

 

Oh My Heart is probably the only overt ‘social commentary’ song on the album – it’s obviously a paean to post-Katrina New Orleans – and includes a lovely horn/accordion/mandolin backdrop, but this was the first track that made me think ‘REM by numbers’. It Happened Today carries on in the same vein as the preceding 2 tracks and, while not entirely unpleasant, I was hoping for a change of tempo to maintain interest.

Just as I was settling into a feeling of ‘pleasant but not compelling album’ along comes Every Day is Yours to Win. This is even slower and mellower but… it’s a complete gem! The guitar intro is very simple but wonderfully evocative, the lyrics and Stipe’s phrasing (the mid-line breath gaps particularly) click immediately, the vocal soaring on the short & simple chorus brings to mind Find the River from Automatic for the People - but this song doesn’t deserve to be pigeon-holed as a sound-alike; for me, it is up there with the very best work they’ve ever done. Michael even manages to slip in some of his trademark mild sarcasm without it sounding contrived or smug:

“With the warp and the wooze and the subterfuge, does it all look bitter & blue? Well I’m nothing but confused, with nothing left to lose – and if you buy that I’ve got a bridge for you.”

From this marvellous mid-point the album moves back up a gear. Forthcoming single Mine Smell Like Honey fairly bops along; while the chorus is yet another retread of Bad Day that’s not really such a bad thing. Walk it Back is very similar in tone to the earlier Oh My Heart but not quite as intense – I defy you to not be singing along to the chorus by the last refrain. Alligator_Aviator_Autopilot_Antimatter might just be the album’s only total misfire; this really is a virtual rewrite of Animal and wastes guest star Peaches.

That Someone is You is jangly and much better, with some neat verbal tricks (“Sharon Stone Casino, Scarface Al Pacino, ’74 Torino”). It certainly lingers longer in the memory than Me, Marlon Brando, Marlon Brando And I – another slowing of pace with a melody so forgettable that I had to check the track-listing to remember it was there!

Then we’re at the closer – Blue – which is potentially the most interesting track here. A fuzz-drenched soundscape is the backdrop for Michael to let loose with what seems to be a stream-of-consciousness tone poem, while further guest Patti Smith (used far more effectively) supplies backing vocals which almost seem to be in harmony with Stipe’s speaking. This really is a departure from the norm and shows that there’s experimental life in the old dogs yet ;-). The track ends with a reprise of the riff from opener Dicoverer, which plays the common (but still quite neat) trick of bringing the album full circle.

Collapse into Now is not likely to make any new converts but it definitely has flashes of magic. It’s noticeable that every resemblance that any of these tracks has to anything else is from their own back-catalogue – in fact, if I had to compare the entire album to a previous one the closest in tone & feel is probably Green.

Trepidation assuaged and anticipation reasonably rewarded – by no means perfect, but this is quite a good un.

Collapse Into Now is available now from stockists (if any still exist in the digital age) or for download from all the usual places.

KNOBILEAKS: Transcript of Jamie Carragher’s apology to Nani.

In the first of a very occasional series KNOBILEAKS brings you transcripts of conversations that other leaking-sites can’t be arsed with.

It was very gracious of Big Jamie to offer his apologies to the MU dressing room at half-time yesterday following his "horror-challenge" (© Sky Sports); however some, it has to be said, are doubting the sincerity or taste in his decision to sing said apology:

“Nani are you OK? Nani are you OK? Are you OK Nani? You’ve been hit by, you’ve been struck by a Scouse Carragher.”

(Actual conversation may not have taken place).

The Sad Sudden Cessation of Scorer

Dave Storry, the lynchpin centre-forward of legendary Premiership club Tolcaster United, has entertained millions in the daily cartoon strip Scorer in The Mirror since 1989. Not at all resembling a dark-haired randier Roy of the Rovers, Dave’s exploits have enthralled generations as he’s worked his way up from Fourth Division Stonely Wanderers to become one of the most prolific strikers in the world. Along with his trusty team-mates Phil Weggle (captain, aged about 96 with Peter Stringfellow hair), Wayne Sutton (not like Wayne Rooney at all), Benito Pinnavaro (swarthy, Italian, untrustworthy around WAGs) all under the guidance of manager Jack Hocherty (Scottish, says “och” a lot, always swigs whisky from a hip-flask – so not like Fergie at all) we’ve followed the trials & tribulations of Tolcaster for over 2 decades. They’ve been relegated, in administration, kidnapped on overseas tour but also won countless trophies and fought gamely on with true grit.

In parallel with the on-pitch action we’ve been privileged to share the ups & downs of Dave’s relationship with girlfriend Ulrika (Swedish model with a REAL LIFE fan club – go figure).

Dave’s popularity with the ladies, along with Ulrika’s popularity with the lads (and ladies) has provided many moments of high-drama over the years, giving a truly ingenious double-meaning to the title 'Scorer'.

Although one could pick any single episode from this monumental saga as a highlight, who could possibly forget that amazing moment in June 2007 when Dave’s exploits came to the attention of then Liverpool manager Rafa Benitez?

BBC 606 News: Liverpool to land world class striker

Sadly it came to nothing and the Reds promptly went out and bought Fernando Torres instead; how things could have turned out differently for poor Rafa!

Anyway….

The story has been meandering along in its usual fashion over the last few weeks. Tolcaster are mid-table in the Premiership but they’re through to the knock-out stages of the Europa League and have just been held 1-1 at home by “The Austrians” (no team name given) in the first leg. They’re also still in the FA Cup. Meanwhile Ulrika has been receiving presents from a mystery admirer which has had an effect on Dave’s performance (fnar fnar); we found out last week that they’re from her friend Fallon, who has now declared that she "fancies" both Dave and Ulrika.

With the tension mounting I opened last Saturday’s Mirror excitedly, knowing that the next round of the FA Cup was going to be covered, to be confronted with this:

 WHAT???? 

Has there ever been a crappier conclusion to a series? Ulrika’s final speech-bubble has obviously been amended hastily; it seems that The Mirror has decided that reruns of Garth (sigh) from the 1970s had to replace Scorer NOW. Even 'The Mystery of Edwin Drood' seemed more complete!

How can the story end with so many plot-lines dangling? What will happen to Dave/Ulrika/Fallon? What about the Europa League? Will Chairman Simon (who has been subtly portrayed as possibly being gay) get his wish to play for the first team and share the communal bath at Wembley when they win the FA Cup?

It’s a sad day for English football.

Radiohead - The King of Limbs

Radiohead do not like to make things straightforward. An email arrives early on 16^th February thanking me for waiting (was I?) and announcing the release of their new album on Saturday 19th February. Within the mail there’s a pre-order link to their website with a bewildering array of options: mp3 for 6 quid; wav for 3 quid more (like – why?); “Newspaper Album” with immediate download plus shipping (in May) of “vinyl, CD, many large sheets of newspaper artwork, 625 tiny pieces of artwork and a full-colour piece of oxo-degradable plastic to hold it all together” (sigh – I fell for it and ordered this). Then they decide to make the download available a day earlier anyway!

Their last album was released in October 2007, so the discovery that the new effort consists of only 8 tracks, lasting under 38 minutes in total, suggests either that the band has been very judicious in their selection of material or rather work-shy. On first listen I found myself tending towards the latter view; the tracks seemed to merge into one long mellow electro vibe, rarely changing pace or tone, with only the excellent Little by Little (“Little by little, by hook or by crook, I’m such a tease and you’re such a flirt”) standing out at all - think a third-cousin-twice-removed of There There or Knives Out delivered by early Stone Roses.

How wrong I was.

Radiohead’s best work (probably more than any other "stadium act") is not always immediate. Upon repeated listening I remembered that I was similarly initially underwhelmed by In Rainbows only for it to keep ringing in my head when I thought I’d condemned it to the file-away-pile, eventually ranking it up there with OK Computer as their defining moment (conversely, I realised that Hail to the Thief, which I loved from the get-go, had quickly waned in my affections to the point that I hadn’t listened to it, before this morning, for over 5 years).

The King of Limbs is certainly a slow-burner, but soon it becomes apparent that it’s been meticulously plotted to the point that there isn’t really a weak moment on it. Bloom is a jerky assortment of stuttering beats with trademark plaintive vocals; Morning Mr. Magpie - so similar in tone to the opener that at first I didn’t realise it was the second track - reveals itself as playful and almost psychedelic (“You stole it all, give it back... Good morning Mr Magpie, how are we today?” - can the similarity in its title & lyrics to Revolver-era Beatles be coincidence?); Feral is possibly the most difficult thing here to like, consisting mainly of cut-up & echoed vocal samples over a repetitive shuffling beat, but it’s the album’s shortest track and doesn’t outstay its welcome: Codex is just goddamn beautiful and all the more effective for the decision to leave it stripped-down.

For an album so heavily immersed in electronic beats it didn't really feel like "dance music" to me; that was until I saw the video for single Lotus Flower (a question though: what constitutes a “single” in Radiohead’s world? I can’t see any way to buy the individual track from their site, there’s no physical artefact in stores, it’s not on iTunes or Amazon etc.).

The biggest criticism I can find of this set is that it doesn’t really break new ground. If you like any Radiohead album from Kid A onwards you will probably be happy with this one. I think that it’s actually closest, in sound and spirit, to Thom Yorke’s 2006 solo effort The Eraser, but it’s definitely a more upbeat collection than that; on the closing Separator (great title, great song) I could swear that I can actually hear Thom smiling as he sings.

The aforementioned convoluted release schedule seems designed to ensure that The King of Limbs stays in sight for a few months at least. I wonder whether I’ll still be listening to it when I get my newspaper album in May, or I’ll just Give up the Ghost (d’ya see what I did there?).

The King of Limbs is now available to download from www.thekingoflimbs.com.