The Single Life: Vance Joy, Die Antwoord & More

As musical hotbeds go Nashville, it appears, is the new Nashville. This is not to be confused with the old Nashville. For while there’s still a few too many rhinestone cowboys pumping out songs of horses, trucks, and she done me wrong - there’s different and better music happening.

Latest proof, Natalie Prass. For some time, sideperson and backing singer to the much respected and damn good in her own right Jenny Lewis, she presents Why Don’t You Believe In Me? (Spacebomb) where her version of Nashville has some ‘60s old soul to it, but more just a vision of what pop music can be. Subtly arranged, beautifully sung, it’s the business.

Then there’s Nashville’s one-man work ethic that is Jack White, his Third Man imprint having a seemingly instinctive grasp of the past, present, and future of a range of musics. Thus, he finds artists based in tradition like The Dough Rollers, their Mansion On A Hill (Third Man) an unwinding tumble of kinda bluesy, kinda Americana, but just damn honest joy in playing.

That’s not to dismiss the many combos and guises to which the hyperactive White himself contributes. The Dead Weather continue to drip-feed teases of an album apparently on the release schedule for next year. Buzzkill(er) (Third Man) rattles and rumbles at you, Alison Mosshart’s voice still that seductively threatening mix of ‘fuck me’ and/or ‘fuck off’.

The artist now known as Father John Misty has a name that sounds like it should come from round those parts (but doesn’t), while his style on Bored In The USA (Subpop) seems now headed to a dryly sardonic line somewhere between Randy Newman, The Silver Jews, and quieter-era Eels – not just in the beard. Also note he chose to announce his new works via the venerable David Letterman’s venerable Late Show – which is not so odd when you consider the program’s musical history of being based in the theatre where The Beatles first invaded America’s lounge-rooms on The Ed Sullivan Show. While under Dave’s idiosyncratic reign it’s also hosted everything from R.E.M.’s first TV appearance, through to that oddly mesmerising Future Islands performance more recently.

Our boy Vance Joy actually first met his US touring buddy for the next few months, Taylor Swift – nice blonde kid, sings a bit, bad shorts – backstage when she made a Letterman appearance a few weeks back, after she’d covered that omnipresent song of his elsewhere. To celebrate his new travel plans, First Time (Liberation) probably doesn’t have the inescapable earworminess of Riptide – few things do – but is a polished pop thing that will no doubt further his cause here and there.

About as far from such well-scrubbed young people as possible, the singular Die Antwoord splash some more bodily fluids about on Ugly Boy (Zef), and here you can play spot the celebrity cameo in the clip: Jack Black, Flea, and Dita Von Teese among those present apparently. If we have to tell you it’s NSFW, perhaps it’d be better if you just skip by and move on to the next thing.

And still angry after all these years, Wu-Tang Clan maintain their rage by signing with a multinational multimedia corporation and offering the disaffected yell of Ruckus In B Minor (Warner) as their return to activity. Deciding if they are still the gang they were minus the late ODB, and various former associates is maybe up to how old your baseball cap is, and which direction you wear it.

And still making slightly bent but utterly nifty pop songs after 20-odd years, and what’s more about to honour our nation with their presence again early in the new year, Spoon. New York Kiss (Spunk) is another shiny thing to distract you from the ordinary misery of your life.

In the million things that can go wrong among the million things that have to go right to achieve your due in the music business, having a band too close to another’s that causes stupid confusion is one of the more stupidly confusing. Gabby Huber was one voice of the very individual and rather good Dead Letter Chorus – that’s Chorus, not Circus – who now adds some electronics to her melodic folkish lilt under the name of Maples. Stars (Independent) has some charms. But we probably should mention there’s a band called The Maple Trail? Probably not.

And one of the few who’s gone well away and beyond from her TV talent quest beginnings. Wah-Ha (Independent) again shows Lisa Mitchell’s knack for giving something lightly joyful for an audience to sing along with, with a voice unquestionably her own.