Whatever Nick Murphy Calls Himself Now, His Voice Is Still A Thing Of Emotional Wonder

So, here we are over a decade-and-a-half into the 2000’s, but a lot of the music still throws back to last century – both the good bits and some bad. And influence is fine, but sometimes it becomes homage, or even just nostalgia. Some of the following go along those various lines – it’s up to you how much you want to accept.

Japandroids happily admit their debt to the likes of Husker Du and rackets of the pre-grunge days. Or you can just take it as two guys making helluva melodic noise, as a recent tour of here of clubs perhaps smaller than you’d expect proved. It was huge. And there’s some good attitude in their new thing, No Known Drink Or Drug (Anti/Inertia) which lands somewhere between ‘Meh, whaddya gonna do?’ but maybe still have some hope in love. Who’d of thought?

The bio backstory DiskoDisco gave me more questions than answers. It’s the band guise of one Chris Lamaro – and here’s the first gem from the press release – “Best-known to some as the ‘I play cello’ guy from High School Musical…” OK, sure. But apparently things were a bit quiet creatively for a while there after “He was arrested in 2008 for robbing a pizza shop…” OK, sure. Well, if a little hyperbolic, it was still good clickbait. Musically, Chris veers back a way as well. The squelchy synths of Syntax Error (GD FRNDS) are pure 80s fuzz and bubble, and if he still has some Hollywood contacts, he makes tunes absolutely tailored to be the soundtrack to Beverley Hills Cop XXVII, or whatever number they got to.

Video featuring mushroom clouds, crucifixions, DNA strands, rioting in the street? Check. And punk’s not dead either. Frank Carter & The Rattlesnakes, with suitable right-up-to-the-neckline tattoo quotient, will yell messages of romantic nihilism at you just like the safety-pinned old-school days. Perhaps even more throwback than his days in Gallows, Carter is almost channelling brandnames names like The Damned as Wild Flowers (International Death Cult/Kobalt) bloom and die before your very eyes. Will appeal to angry young men popping their acne in bathroom mirrors before they consider the overthrow of society as such music ever has.

Conversely, what Bonobo make is utterly pop of the modern model. Synthesised, yet not afraid to be soulful. No Reason (Ninja Tunes/Inertia) wants to be slightly opaque, yet conversely seems to want to explain itself a little too much. Of course, the major selling point here of this enterprise is the featured vocalist, one Nick Murphy who – if you still haven’t quite caught up with the marketing plan is the artist formerly known as Chet Faker. Whatever he calls himself now, his voice is still a thing of some emotional wonder, adding a bit of distinction to even ordinary material – although this is well above that to start with. Likely to be heard on the national youth network even as you’re reading this. 

Back to somewhere along a traditional synth-pop line, although not as baldly retro as some of the above, Perth’s Cubs have an enthusiasm and a pop sense as they ask the eternal musical question, Is This Love (Blue Grey Pink). The centrepiece of the husband-and-wife duo is Renae’s voice - the human element of a jaunty but occasionally self-aware summery construction, another adding that individuality to mostly machine-made music.

And sometimes, you kinda need to mention who you used to be married to. Karen Elson is, of course, the ex-amorata of Jack White, but has a handy contact book of her own. Among names appearing her upcoming album: Father John Misty, Laura Marling, Pat Sansone from Wilco, and even some production work from The Black Keys’ Patrick Carney – who, if memory serves, has a slightly awkward history with Jack as well. All that aside, Distant Shore (H.O.T./1965 Records) is a stripped back and seemingly emotionally honest conversation. “I am alone, I am free” she claims, with a hint of doubt, but a lot of acceptance. It’s quite something. 

Another distancing herself from former partners, Laetitia Sadier, here fronting her own Source Ensemble after the couple of albums under just her own name that followed her exit from Stereolab. Undying Love For Humanity (Drag City) is a grandly existential title for what is a deceptively light, sometimes even jazzy, breeze where the voices work as instruments as part of the whole. It starts off just bit a bit wonky before settling into a shimmering wander along the beach where someone is waving at you from a nice boat just off shore.

Finally, another mention of what is probably the week's most important piece of work. And slightly ironically I have to get past some of my own prejudices. Although the fact I just always thought The Cat Empire were pretty shit is nothing to the necessary message of Spinifex Gum’s blunt tale of Ms Dhu (My Shore/Kobalt). It simply details an ongoing horror story 229 years long, that sees a woman - a person, a human - treated with cruelty that is at best offhand, at worst studiedly evil. There is no place for subtlety in Felix Reibl's words, nor should there be. The choral voices of Marliya are beautiful in their way, but their harmonies are a lament. But as ever, those who most need to hear this will be the ones who will never listen to it.