AB Original Prove Why Their New Record Is The Year's Most Important

Customers, as you read this, somewhere in the world a band is breaking up. This could be a guitarist storming out of the garage during the second rehearsal because the drummer is more enthusiastic about punching a few cones than actually playing, up to the guys who can now only communicate through their lawyers to decide who gets custody of the ARIAs. So, to the strange tale of Jay Farrar. Jay forms Uncle Tupelo with a couple of mates, including his mate Jeff to play bass. Jeff has a few songs, some which go a bit outside Jay’s ideas of ‘country with some distorted guitar’, but the punters (and the record company) seem to like them to the point Jay eventually takes his bat and ball and goes home. Jeff Tweedy keeps most of the rest of the band, renames it Wilco, and the rest – as they say – is yadda yadda yadda.

For his part, Farrar has remained fairly true to his original vision under the Son Volt brandname  allowing for a few breaks along the way an eighth album is coming in the new year, previewed by Back Against The Wall (Thirty Tigers/Cooking Vinyl). It is pure of heart and intent, by a man still in the fight.

Others are happy to be sidepersons for some time, until they get around to wanting to make their own music. Jade Imagine is variously a member of Teeth + Tongue and Jess Ribeiro’s backing combo, but now finds herself a part of that increasingly-fabled Barnett-Cloher conglomerate under her own name on the shingle. Thus Walkin’ Around (Milk!) previews her gloriously titled What The Fuck Was I Thinking? EP. It fits with the label’s general mood and direction, although this stroll is more dreamily musing as the neon reflects in the puddles, than drier observation. It shimmers a bit, in a good way.

Lachy Doley – sometimes with brother Clayton – is also a highly regarded sideman, among the great local exponents of Hammond organ. His credits are many, up to including recently playing on former Deep Purple guy Glenn Hughes – who’s been fairly unstinting in his praise. All that aside, Lachy has some handy friends to call on for his own work. Who Was I Foolin’ (Only Blues) rolls and unfurls in the necessary bluesy manner, with guitar noodling from former child prodigy Nathan Cavaleri. Oh, and then a couple of verses in no less than Barnesy storms through the studio door with a howl that would typically melt steel beams. Does all it says on the tin.

Local hip-hop veterans Bliss N Eso also know the traditions. Fifteen years in the business probably makes them count as old-school in their own right, but for Friend Like You (Illusive) they know the extra ingredient needed is the big declamatory soul belting, and engage Lee Fields to provide same – it’s the kinda voice you has lived this shit. All constructed with care and experience, this should be treated with the respect it deserves. 

Conversely, you can be a fairly new conglomeration, but make what could be the year’s most important record – if only for two-hundred-and-some years of pain and dishonour that fuel much of it. This is, of course, AB Original. Briggs and Trials absolutely need to be saluted for bringing the black experience to a wider audience, and making even middle-aged white dills like me pay attention and learn things – although there’s still plenty of arseholes on the internet to argue with. ICU (Golden Era) adds Thelma Plum’s voice, and colour, and gender to the discussion. You must listen. 

And here in the post-album age, artists are looking at any variety of ways to reach that audience. So, to go with the documentary, there’s the live video as Arcade Fire go one being a somewhat scruffy hippie collective with a stadium band budget. This take on Reflektor (Universal), recorded live at Earls Court back in 2014, is the introduction to the full-length concert document on the way, although being the opening overture to the show, it’s probably not as sprawlingly silly as what develops through the performance. Bugger me, there’s a lot of people on stage, isn’t there? And somehow, it mostly all holds together.

If seeking further questionable visuals to be soundtracked, I Know Leopard’s engaging and insistent pop – often with something a bit more unsettling going on – is illustrated by a recutting of a short film that starts off a bit Raymond Carver, goes via Stephen King, maybe with a bit of Weekend At Bernie’s thrown in. Rather Be Lonely (Ivy League) might be described as ‘dream pop’, but it’s more the kind of visuals you’ll wake from slightly sweaty and clutching at the doona.    

PLTS are almost exactly how you’d imagine a band from Byron Bay to sound. Layered pop, a little surf-tossed, perhaps even a bit weary with the endless beach view, with Call Me Out (Independent) adding a dollop of angsty thinking to show they’re sensitive new-age guys in there as well. However, still remains music for driving down the coast, window open, arm out in the breeze, getting a bit sunburnt.