I Don't Really Hate Ryan Adams But...

So, you like this music thing? Of course you do. But you’ve probably got an artist who so many people tell you how much you should like them, but you just don’t get it. Customers, my Achilles heel: Ryan Adams. Now, I really don’t ‘hate’ him. It’s more a simple indifference in spite – or maybe because – so many declare him some sort of godhead. Having taking tangents from near-traditional country stylings, through Gram Parsons-influenced Nudie Suit westernisms, to almost breezy west coast pop, you can wonder what’s he’s going to have a dalliance with next. On evidence – and despite its almost perfect tears-in-the-beer title - Do You Still Love Me (Pax Am/Blue Note) is Ryan getting a bit old-style ‘70s rock. And I mean ‘rawwwwk!’. The girls are called ‘Babe’, the guitars are louder, and himself is getting almost deliberately shaggy and sweaty. There is also lots of denim. Lots. 

Another ‘70s throwback of somewhat varying quality being revived by some perhaps unlikely participants, the supergroup. They are called BNQT – pronounced ‘banquet’ in the style of the moment, apparently. The membership? Essentially Midlake’s instrumental backline, with a diverse (some might say perverse) rotation of vocalists: Band Of Horses’ Ben Bridwell kinda makes sense, ditto Grandaddy’s Jason Lytle. And then the more curious trans-Atlantic element of Alex Kapranos of Franz Ferdinand, and Travis’ Fran Healy. On their debut, Restart (Dual Tone/Bella Union) is going for that West Coast feel of last century too, with just a touch of glam. The harmonies stack up in crystal towers, but you remain just a little unsure if they might be taken the piss just a little. The forthcoming album may give a few more hints.

But if you’re going to throw back only a couple of decades, getting it from the original source might be more the go. As the ‘80s became the ‘90s, Australia’s jangly pop bands with added harmonies were the gold standard. And The Clouds were one converted that quality into some chart success. After some years apart, followed by some tentative live peeks at a public that still regards them fondly, the proud brandname gets around to new material, previewing an upcoming EP with a song, where even the title seems perfectly of those days where indie girls in Doc Martens and flip skirts walked wide-eyed into life. Mabel’s Bookshop (Independent) is typically keenly observant of the various buyers, browsers, and page flippers who stroll through. There’s a guitar solo toward the end which is economical in both time and noodling, and all is well with the world.

Some may choose to reinvestigate and even retool their own back catalogue. Pablo and James of the UNKLE collective also operate as Toydrum and for the purposes of the exercise engage some acquaintances with whom they’ve collaborated before. When that collaboration was the Lawless soundtrack, you may have already painstakingly added that two and two together, and realise this ‘reworking’ of I’ve Got A Future (Colette) is the work of ‘our’ Nick Cave, and his ubiquitous scruffy garden gnome offsider, Warren Ellis. Nick intones throughout in a discomforting manner, that uneasy irony only reinforced when you consider the original vocalist, Gavin Clark, died a couple of years back. It is music that haunts, in a number of ways. 

Meanwhile back in a local suburban garage, The Pretty Littles yell with a typical concoction of grumpy ennui as the traditionally quiet second day of the week, as it often does, means ‘We’ve got nothing on’ – as in a lack of engagements, rather than a lack of wardrobe. Helluva Tuesdi (Independent) stomps its foot, has a resigned a whinge, runs out of puff, gets it breath back, and cranks up a bit toward the end again. And all is well with the world. In its way. 

Although there is a place for a message to be delivered with a little more subtlety. The New Pornographers make pop music of a something deceptive smoothness – never quite slick, but you sometimes think they could if they wanted to. There’s a self-awareness on High Ticket Attraction (Collected Works/Caroline) further highlights the philosophy, in a world where even having a philosophy can be frowned upon. They know stuff, probably more than you or I, but don’t shout it. Harking back to that ‘70s and ’80s references back up there, let’s say there might be a touch of Steely Dan with synths about them, if such a description makes sense to you.

And some way from most other things on this page, let’s talk Dutch female-fronted metal. Yeah. The Charm The Fury fit those descriptors and might surprise the unwary with Down On The Ropes (Arising Empire/Nuclear Blast) coming at you in the prescribed growling and perhaps grumpy manner, but with an ability often lost in the field of actually being able to make an intelligent point while howling like a banshee from the gates of hell. Which is a rather neat trick. 

Sun Sap’s name aptly suggests a music they describe as “surf soul psychedelia”. It is a bit sunshiny as the light dapples through the angst. Hanging Hearts (Independent) unfurls on itself quite effortlessly, and the lo-fi cleverness of the video will get it the airing on Rage it needs to make a few more people take notice. A band of which the Coal Coast can be proud – although maybe they can look a bit beyond being the best band in Austinmer and environs. Goes alright.