First impressions #4: Asher Roth

 

Asher Roth

Imagine the complete opposite of a stereotypical rap star and you’ve got Asher Roth. He’s white, skinny, middle class, suburban and college-educated (hmm, why does that description sound familiar?). He’s not yet released a physical record but he’s taking over America, if you believe the hype.

 

His backstory already sounds familiar, having been signed after posting his songs on Myspace and gathering further internet buzz when he released the download-only album The Greenhouse Effect in June last year. It was the first record on Drama and Cannon’s influential Gangsta Grillz series by a white rapper. Apparently.

 

 

I was excited by my first encounter with Roth, watching his spoken-word recitation on prejudice and hostility (above). It was a rare find for me: a hip-hop artist who was not only intelligent and articulate but someone who wrote lyrics I could really understand and maybe even relate to.

 

My hopes came crashing down, however, when I listened to his debut single ‘I Love College’. It’s a banal and uninspired ode to getting wasted. I’m not saying that’s not a worthwhile pursuit but there have to be better ways of expressing yourself than: “Man I love college/I love drinking/I love women/Man I love college.”

 

In the song’s video, he struts around a frat house with all the awkwardness that goes with a white man’s cliched attempts to copy hip hop posturing. He’s like a young, American Tim Westwood and certainly as cringeworthy.

 

 

Annoyingly though, the song’s been stuck in my head for the last four days. Its catchiness and the very lyrics I am railing against are what will probably make it a hit. The kids love a song about bad behaviour.

 

Despite my disappointment, I’m still keen on hearing more from Roth. It’s not that often you hear of someone in the certified hip-hop fraternity who’s got more in common with an indie kid. Even Roth himself maintains he’s not really a rapper. I wish he’d shave off that ridiculous bum fluff though.

First impressions #3: Antony and The Johnsons – The Crying Light

The Crying Light: a lesson in how to take guyliner too far

Who: Antony Hegarty, the British-born, New York-based transgender singer/songwriter and his band, The Johnsons.

What: The Crying Light – their third album and the follow up to 2005’s Mercury Prize-winning record I Am A Bird Now.

When: 19 Jan 2009

Critical reactions: Antony and The Johnsons have always been critical darlings and the new album has garnered lavish praise from most quarters. It’s even become Allmusic’s album pick for the band. But Rolling Stone gave the record 3/5, as did the Guardian’s Alexis Petridis who makes a valid point when he asks: “How many albums about anguish, death and body dysmorphia, sung in a tremulous, mournful, Nina Simone-inspired voice, does a person need?”

First impressions: Since entering semi-mainstream consciousness as a Mercury Prize-winner, Antony Hegarty has done disco and Dylan: the former by collaborating with pansexual New York dance group Hercules and Love Affair; the latter by contributing a sublimely tear-inducing cover of ‘Knocking on Heaven’s Door’ to the soundtrack of I’m Not There (the Bob Dylan quasi-biopic where six actors portrayed the legendary singer).

With The Crying Light, however, Antony and The Johnsons seem to have deviated little from the blueprint of their last album. Even the cover image bears a striking familiarity, a black and white photo that’s at once disturbing and strangely beautiful.

Inside, gentle piano and strings underpin melodies that ache with melancholy even when the lyrics take a more positive or at least ambiguous tone. The words still have the power to make you feel both captivated and uncomfortable at a simple turn of phrase. ‘Epilepsy is Dancing’ sends shivers down my spine just as ‘Cripple and the Starfish’ from the band’s first album did.

Dominating everything is Antony’s haunting voice and at times we are reminded of how devastatingly beautiful it can be, such as on the sparse ‘Dust and Water’, which sounds as if he stood alone in the desert at night to record it.

In interviews, I’ve always had the impression that Antony lives in something of a fantasy world, that he wants to be even stranger than he really is. His surprised reaction to winning the Mercury Prize over hotly-tipped young bands was something along the lines of “I’m old enough to be their grandmother.” Well, not really. You’re only 38.

Pretentious statements about his art probably seem perfectly sensible in his own head but down here they make him appear self-aware and without any real insight. It may be I’m drawing unfair conclusions based on quotes taken out of context, but where The Crying Light falls down is in a similar failure to go deeper. For all its moments of brilliance, it doesn’t achieve anything its predecessor didn’t and carries itself with less grace and fewer memorable songs.

Best tracks: Dust and Water, Another World

Catch Antony and the Johnsons on tour:

21/05 Brighton Dome Concert Hall (Brighton Festival) SOLD OUT

22/05 Birmingham Symphony Hall

24/05 Bristol Colston Hall

27/05 London Hammersmith Apollo

29/05 Gateshead The Sage

31/05 Dublin Vicar St SOLD OUT

01/06 Belfast Waterfront

04/06 Edinburgh Playhouse

03/07-04/07 Manchester Opera House (Manchester International Festival)

First impressions #2: Esser

A quiff and peanut butter: sure signs of the cutting edge

Continuing my exploration of the state of music in 2009, I thought I’d listen to some of the acts that have been touted as this year’s next big things.

First up is London-based Essex boy (Ben) Esser and band. This guy’s name has been floating around for ages but I’ve only just forced myself to listen to him. Formerly the drummer in now-defunct jerky pop group Ladyfuzz, he’s now writing and recording songs under his surname (worked for Morrissey I guess).

Esser might not be a newcomer to the UK music scene but there’s a sense of DIY bedroom production to his work. That’s not to say the tracks aren’t slick, just that you can imagine them being pieced together from numerous loops and samples on a laptop.

Electro-pop is thrown together with the odd bit of noisy guitar in the kind of gently funky combination that Radio 1 usually loves. Plus the lyrics have got that essentially English Saturday night simplicity to them: “I love you but I don’t know how to tell you,” Esser tells us on repeat on the conveniently titled ‘I Love You’.

Possibly his most inventive song, ‘Satisfy’ has something of The Specials’ ‘Ghost Town’ about it, which is surprising as it starts off with a piano stolen from a 1920s French café. But there’s just something a little too unremarkable about Esser to make him stick. The tunes just aren’t catchy enough; the beats are often a bit tame. And he forgets the golden rule of sampling: if you’re going to repeat yourself, say something that’s worth hearing again.

UPDATE: Second impressions, 19/03/09

I think I may have been unduly harsh on poor Esser. A day later I find there’s something inescapable about a song like ‘Headlock’, even if it’s not a pop masterpiece. Esser’s songs are inventive, playful and honest. And that is a great quiff.

To judge for yourself, listen online via myspace.com/esserhq or Youtube to:

Headlock

I Love You

Work It Out

Satisfied

If you like him, check out the album Braveface when it comes out on 4 May on Transgressive records.

He’s also live on tour next month:

16/04 Leeds Cockpit

17/04 Glasgow King Tuts

18/04 Middlesbrough Empire

19/04 York Duchess

21/04 Manchester Deaf Institute (oh the irony of having concerts here)

21/04 Wolverhampton Little Civic

23/04 Bristol Thekla

24/04 Southampton Joiners

25/04 Exeter Cavern

27/04 Brighton Komedia Basement

28/04 Colchester Arts Centre

29/04 Norwich Arts Centre

30/04 London ULU

First impressions #1: Animal Collective – Merriweather Post Pavilion

It’s easy to get left behind when it comes to new music. In the last three months I’ve not bought or listened to a single new album and I feel almost completely detached from the world of pop.

So it’s time to play catchup. Over the next days and weeks I’ll be giving my first impressions of this year’s new releases and new artists, thanks to the wonders of Spotify. (If you don’t know what that is then you must be even more out of it than me. Check it out. Your life will change for the better.)

Merriweather Post Pavilion: trippiest cover ever

Who: Animal Collective: Baltimore-based group beloved by indie snobs. Only one of them is an animal – Panda Bear (aka Noah Lennox) – but their record label is called Paw Tracks.

What: Merriweather Post Pavilion: the band’s eighth album released since their formation in 2000. According to Panda Bear himself, it’s their best yet. Named after an outdoor concert venue in their home state of Maryland.

When: 6 Jan 2009 (this shows how out of the loop I am)

Critical reaction: Just one week into 2009 it looked like the critics had found their record of the year. With near universal acclaim (89%), Merriweather is the top ranking album on Metacritic so far this year. Pitchfork gave it 9.6 – their highest rating since Arcade Fire’s Funeral back in 2004.

First impressions: I’ve struggled with Animal Collective in the past. I often found their last two albums, Feels and Strawberry Jam, dense and unfriendly even if they were obviously brimming with neatly ordered ideas. Now I think I should have given them more time.

Merriweather Post Pavilion is not only the band’s most accessible album to date; it’s also the most joyful record you’re likely to hear this year, this decade, whatever. The songs here will make you tingle with delight and you’ll have to restrain yourself to stop from joining in with the pounding drums and chorus of “oooh” on the shimmering single ‘My Girls’.

The term ‘baroque pop’ gets thrown around a lot, but when the harpsichord-esque sound of ‘Daily Routine’ kicks in, you know this is a band that make their art out of the intricate. Their keyboard riffs could sometimes be taken from a rave track and their layered, echoing harmonies are pure Beach Boys. There’s even what sounds like a didgeridoo in there.

And yet the reason Merriweather breaks through where its predecessors have stalled is its simplicity. The arresting melodies are strong enough to be heightened, not hidden, by all those beautiful production tricks. I’ll always have time for something that creates this much bliss.

Best tracks: My Girls, Bluish

Animal Collective: they'll hypnotise you with just a wave of their hands