Tag: Naked Giants

Scruffy and rough around the edges, South London’s shame will not back down or pull a punch, but will put their arm on your shoulder and make you sing along

What is in that Canadian water? Kiwi Jr. are burning up my speakers with their latest release, a rich concoction of perfectly crafted indie guitar pop that seems designed to be played loud, and if I’m supposed to stop doing that, then I guess I’ll be buying new speakers soon.

The sound of Star Feminine Band is born of Benin, brightly colored patterns, and wild abandon, young carefree voices skipping over liquid guitar and intense percussion.

It’s the triumphant return of Pom Poko and their shattered-and-reassembled attacks of aggression and affection, like the sonic equivalent of staying inside the sauna for as long as you can, then running out to roll around in the snow.

The journey to the island had been placid, cutting through the postcard-blue waters on the kite hydrofoil like an experienced tailor shearing fine cloth for a new suit. Things were a bit more complicated now that they were at the Heraklion Archaeological Museum. The horologist consulted the mission notes, which simply stated “remove all anachronistic displays.” The historian, fearing seasickness, had taken a pill and was now having a comically adverse reaction that rendered them useless for these judgements. A security guard eyed them warily, but perhaps they could turn the situation to their advantage by playing up the effects as excessive inebriation.

Spooky and unhinged, this single plods along with the menacing tone you might expect from the title. The flip side is more interesting, with call-and-response vocals, a bad attitude, and a woozy organ.

Sometimes you just need a pounding beat and a shout-along chorus, and this is something Naked Giants truly excel at, throwing in plenty of inventive twists and turns to keep the whole thing from collapsing into a steaming pile of riffs.

Beach House's music always rings as the soundtrack to some brain-warped too-much-party film montage. WIth "Drunk In LA", their song titles are catching up with the vibe.

This goes all over the place, but mostly rocks hard with inventive arrangements and infectious hooks.

They're all over the place, but that's what I like about Post Animal. "Dirtpicker" owes much to the Jesus Lizard, especially in its title.