British Sea Power - Zeus

British Sea Power are, quite simply, one of the best bands out there. They write indie rock songs but do so in an inventive way, with unlikely musical arrangements and quirky lyrics on unlikely topics. In a musical world that seems to have set as its benchmark the word “bland”, they are a breath of fresh air.

Their latest EP, however, is a curious work as far as I am concerned. All the hallmarks of the BSP sound are there – the esoteric lyrics containing random name checks, the experimental guitar based music and so on. But it all feels a little forced; being random and experimental for the sake of it, rather than because the songs actually demand it. To me, the EP sounds a lot like the Fall – not in itself a bad thing, but BSP at their best are more coherent and essential than the Fall. They have their own sound; they should use that, rather than mimicking a band who started to become a caricature of itself a long time ago.

In some respects, what they’ve done here reminds me of what Radiohead did after OK Computer or the Boo Radleys after Wake Up! - they’ve lurched off in a direction marked weird, and part of the reason for doing so is to avoid having to write the sort of polished songs that made them so successful in the first place. Of course, this is an EP, not an album, and it could be next year’s BSP album will see them offering the idiosyncratic song-writing that made them so brilliant (IMHO) in the first place. But Zeus - while still being better than most modern music – is a bit of a disappointment. Ultimately there is nothing on this EP that can compare with the sparse beauty of their last album - Man of Aran. And given that album was a soundtrack to an obscure, yet oddly beautiful film, and therefore consisted of soundscapes largely devoid of lyrics, that is a bit of a cause for concern.

Startling news from the musical world:

Thom Yorke has assembled a new band featuring Red Hot Chili Peppers bassist Flea and producer Nigel Godrich.

May I be the first person to say "oh" before walking away, looking disinterested.

Mercury Music Prize 2008

Another year, another host of nominations for the Mercury Music Prize. The list is, as always, a curious mix of music I've never heard of mixed with music I couldn't care less about. Radiohead, for example, get a nomination for once again producing an album of largely unlistenable nonsense that shows none of songwriting or performing ability that made them famous in the first place. And then we have Robert Plant - a man who hasn't produced an iota of interesting music since Led Zep split up nearly three decades ago. And so on.

I'd like to see British Sea Power's Do You Like Rock Music? take the prize. Whether it will or not is open to question, but there is one key reason why it should win - it is the best thing on the list.

Which, for the Mercury Music Prize, is a sure sign that it won't win. And was probably lucky to get the nomination in the first place.

Backing Bands

Last night I went to see British Sea Power at Koko in Camden. As you might expect from a band voted Time Out Live Band of the Year in 2004, they were good. In fact, they were very good. And the bear costume was very good. Much better than you might expect from a bear costume. Quite why British Sea Power have a bear coming on stage for the finale I have no idea. But it works.

However, the backing bands weren't great. In fact, they were pretty shit. The first band on stage was the best of the backing bands - a French combo where the lead vocals were shared between a guitar playing bloke and a bass playing girl. I'm not sure whether they were shagging, but if they weren't then they should be. The levels of sexual tension and frustration on the stage were sky high.

Then we had a strange fella taking to the stage with an acoustic guitar. Just him, and his guitar. And his collection of really shit songs. I haven't seen such a weird and shit set since I was in a lesbian bar in Amsterdam, watching another solo acoustic guitarist go through his collection of demented songs (one was called "Jihad", another was a love song that included the lyric "I'm going to poke her in her love hole"...) Songs that include lyrics like "Porcupine Pineapple" should be retained for an individual's private world, and only really performed to the singer's mother during the brief breaks the singer takes between bouts of frenzied masturbation. Not sung on a large stage at a busy venue.

And finally we had a band of what looked like students. Despite desperately trying to be cool, their music was quite good and they had at least tried to present themselves in an slightly original way. What a shame, then, that their lyrics were complete crap. One song seemed to be about "what is your favourite number?" and "what is the reason for that?" My replies: "I don't have a favourite number" because "I am not autistic."

Which brings us to the burning question - not so much why do headliners have backing bands, but rather why do headliners have such shit backing bands? Other big bands I've seen have had equally shite backing bands, so it isn't just British Sea Power. Part of me thinks that the headliners deliberately choose the worst possible bands to back them, in the hope that even if they have a really bad night, at least their backing bands will have been worse, making them look good in comparison. Sounds cynical, but I really can't think of any other reason why British Sea Power would have a tit with an acoustic guitar gurning his way through a set of sub-Radiohead/REM songs on stage before they come on.

Thom Yorke: Great Songwriter, Pretentious Twat

I was listening to Radiohead’s The Bends earlier today, and it struck me what a good record it is. And also fired me up, with bugger all else to do in the office, to do a bit of research into Radiohead, the members and their songs.

Then it struck me what a pretentious cock head Thom Yorke is. Pretty much everything he says is in some way obtuse, self-serving, or revealing quite shocking delusions of grandeur. Take one of his comments about the Radiohead song Street Spirit (Fade Out):

“Our fans are braver than I to let that song penetrate them, or maybe they don't realise what they're listening to. They don't realise that Street Spirit is about staring the fucking devil right in the eyes, and knowing, no matter what the hell you do, he'll get the last laugh. And it's real, and true. The devil really will get the last laugh in all cases without exception, and if I let myself think about that too long, I'd crack.”

Clearly Thom Yorke has a different version of that song in mind to the one I know. Street Spirit is standard Radiohead in most regards, albeit a little slower and a little more depressing than usual. It has moments of lyrical incoherence, such as “Cracked eggs dead birds/Scream as they fight for life” (err, how can dead birds scream for life? And can birds actually scream?) but generally speaking it is a well constructed song and one of the better ones in their back catalogue. But that’s it. Nothing more. So where the frigging hell does this talk of the song being about “staring the fucking devil right in the eyes” come from? I mean, really, where does it come from? It’s a bit miserable, making it not exactly unique for Radiohead. Some of the imagery is negative, but it ends on the relatively upbeat repeated refrain of "Immerse your soul in love". There is nothing to suggest the overblown hyperbole of Yorke’s comments. If you don’t believe me then go have a listen to Street Spirit and see whether you think it is

a) An above average, downbeat indie pop song
b) A confrontation with the Prince of Darkness, Satan himself.

Most sane, well-adjust people will go with the former, I would have thought.

Of course, a lot of people are overly pretentious when they are young. Perhaps Yorke has become more sane in his opinions as he has got older. Sadly, no. Take a look at his comments on his recent solo single, Harrowdown Hill:

"The government and the Ministry of Defence... were directly responsible for outing him and that put him in a position of unbearable pressure that he couldn't deal with, and they knew they were doing it and what it would do to him... I've been feeling really uncomfortable about that song lately, because it was a personal tragedy, and Dr Kelly has a family who are still grieving. But I also felt that not to write it would perhaps have been worse.”

I sort of agree with his appraisal of what happened to David Kelly, and can understand why someone would want to write a protest song about it. Quite why Yorke chose to make that song lyrically vague and backed by the sort of fragile, electronic bleeps and squeaks that wouldn’t frighten a paranoid mouse, let alone the more violent and brutal parts of the British establishment is beyond me. But it is the final sentence that makes me want to scream in frustration. “But I also felt that not to write it would perhaps have been worse”. What sort of toss is this? How can it be worse not to write the song? A song that, by Yorke’s own admission, may be intruding on a private tragedy. Is Yorke so arrogant that he thinks that the world will suffer if he doesn’t put his thought in song and on a record? Was his collection of semi-coherent cut up lyrics so dramatic that he had to get them out of his head before they damaged him? Because, if they were, then God help him if he ever comes up with something really powerful. His head will probably explode!

When you listen to other bands, like the Manics or the former members of Joy Division, talk about their music they come across as unpretentious and very down to earth about their music. When you read what Yorke has said about his music, you get the impression of a man even more overbearing, serious and dour than his most ponderous music. My advice – listen to the music, ignore the man.