It took a band of skinny snake-hipped art students with razor sharp cheekbones and second hand shop chic to shake up the music scene and make the Country exciting again. That band, of course was Suede, the instigators for the burgeoning Brit pop scene of two years later.

Fast forward seventeen years and we are in the same place, the faces have changed but the same state remains and as for the British music scene, apart from the wanton revivalism of bands reforming for cash, it’s nothing more than a boil on the bum of America that won’t shift. This decade is probably the worst one ever for British music. Despite being nothing more than a pub band, The Libertines have influenced the majority of indie bands who have come about since their inception in the early noughties and ever since we have had to tolerate every two bit Chas and Dave sympathisers from here to bloody Albion. Bloc Party showed promise with their debut (2004s ‘Silent Alarm’) but fell down tying to copy TV on the Radio and although the Arctic Monkeys debut is without doubt the finest album from these shores this decade, what has come since has failed to impress.

It was easy to view The Horrors with cynicism. When they first came to prominence in 2007, the schlock gothic look of the Shoreditch undead, the hair (which was quite something), the celebrity girlfriends in the form of Peaches G****f and the fact their debut album wasn’t very good should have meant that their appearance on the last series of The Mighty Boosh should have been the last time they bothered us but here they are with us again and wow, what a difference two years (and friends in high places) make.

‘Primary Colours’, produced by Portishead’s Geoff Barrow and for two numbers, film director Chris Cunningham revives the memory of early Suede with a dash of Bauhaus with the intensity of Krautrock legends Neu! all backed up with the type of swirling guitar aesthetics My Bloody Valentine would be making if they weren’t a bunch of lazy oiks.

Starting with mysterious ambient Eno-isms, opener ‘Mirror’s Image’ sets the bar high; the scything guitar work collides with Faris Badwan’s over the top vocal hysterics to awesome effect. Elsewhere, the drama of ‘Who can Say’ is the sound of 60’s girl bands who like dirty boys, the dirty fuzz bass and gentle crooning results in a moment of pure Phil Spector as Badwan recounts the time he cruelly left his girl; “When I told her I didn’t love her anymore – she cried, so I kissed her, with a kiss that could only mean…goodbye”, followed with swirls of antique organs, it’s stirring stuff. Elsewhere, Spiritualised are resurrected on the swaying rock of ‘I can’t control myself’ and the whole album is made sense by the swirling euphoria no sleep induces and cheap drugs on warm analogue voyage that is the eight minute epic ‘Sea within a sea’.

This is a band who has stumbled across what they can achieve when they put their minds to it. The Horrors have shocked all and sundry by pulling out a fantastic album out of the bag, on this form the next album will blow us all away, lucky us.

Chris Todd
9/10

Chris Todd
9/10

‘I feel Cream’, her fourth album, is make or break, you can’t sustain a career on one great tune alone (‘Fuck the pain away’). Having Simian Mobile Disco and Soulwax producing Peaches jizz stained electro filth makes sense, but despite having moments of sheer brilliance, the end result is similar to Gwen Stefani getting Stuart Price onboard or Madonna’s recent car crash with Timbaland; the producer runs the show whilst the singer is the supporting act extracting themselves from their comfort zone to sing the tune of their record label for improved record sales.

Having said that, in parts, it’s brilliant. ‘More’ is an impressively genuine nod to early New Order, the oppressive ‘Show stopper’, an obvious steal of Soulwax’s ‘E-Talking’ is an astonishing electronic thrash up against the wall so dirty sounding you’ll be taking hourly showers for a week after hearing it. ‘Talk to me’ is Patti Smith screaming over Soulwax style electro filth and is the nearest thing to a conventional pop song with Peaches angstily proclaiming “because I’m standing here, I‘ve got an open ear – why don’t you talk me” whilst ‘Lose you’ and the title track are pop gems that conjure up images of Donna Summer being taken to her first squat party by Debbie Harry , however, after these tracks you’ll be scratching around for something well…good.

After a while the gratuitous filth becomes tiresome, the Human League influenced ‘Trick or Treat’ has Peaches rapping about having diamonds in her muff and “never going to bed without a piece of raw meat”, it’s as lazy as it tiresome.

Unrequired heavy breathing and implications of being fucked in the guise of some ‘Oohs and ahhs’s isn’t enough to realise the teaches of peaches need to go back and be educated in better song writing and finally live up to the ongoing failure to back up constant show of potential.

Chris Todd

6/10

Not to say it’s all been bad, their two best of albums (1985’s and 1998) could easily have a third companion equally as good, albeit a single CD only, which is no mean feat (Barrel of a gun, No Good, Precious, Suffer Well, Home stand up to their mid eighties heyday). When you’ve been as long as Depeche Mode has (29 years, 12 albums, 100 million album sales) it’s a given that you’re going to know exactly what you are going to get as each album goes by.

After their vague return to form with 2004’s ‘Playing the angel’ its business as usual. Opener ‘In Chains’ is moody enough to show promise but tracks like ‘Hole to feed’ and non-descript flop comeback single ‘Wrong’ are all scratchy guitar riffs, synth stabs and Gahan’s heavily reverbed growling voice stinks of Depeche Mode trying to be Depeche Mode too much, desperately trying to be that fantastic synth rock band of the eighties but minus the tight leather and seedy Berlin fuck fests.

Despite its shortcomings, ‘Sounds of the Universe proves Martin Gore has kept a beady ear on the plethora of bands who are siphoning his influential pop sounds through their own music. The sizzling electronica of ‘Fragile Tension’ with its analogue sounds, tough electro beats and lyrical blustering of “There’s something magical in the air! Something so tragic, we have to care” is them taking back what they’re owed from LCD Soundystem.
Elsewhere songs such as the almost housey ‘In sympathy’, the pulsating ethereal quality of ‘Perfect’ and the gloriously poppy, ‘Peace’ with Gahan and Gore’s almost choir like harmonising are obviously tailor made for those desperate for the glory days of ‘Violator’ to return and they’re not left disappointed, they’re tremendous and easily up there amongst their best.

After that though there’s nothing, the rest of the album is lumpen sub-grunge doom and so self indulgent it’s only a fine line from watching them enjoy a mutual onanism session.
Depeche Mode have served us well during their existence, their influence can be felt to this very day at the top of the charts in pop trash such as Lady Gaga and they’ve continued to exist over their 30 years unlike the pie and lawsuit romancing cash suckers Spandau Ballet but if it takes five years to come up with a release as unsatisfying as this then maybe it’s time to call it a day.

Chris Todd

6/10

So onto their third effort; ‘It’s Blitz’, co produced by long term cohort Dave Sitek from TV on the Radio alongside Nick Launay (Arcade Fire). Out go the Banshee wailings to be replaced with a more electronic feel and much more considered than previous effort. The song writing shows a new found sophistication found with the self assurance of a band that are now showing glimpses of being unable to do any wrong.

Album opener ‘Zero’ is almost shocking in how different it is from their past material, slick electro influenced beats and waspish techno percussion with Sitek style synths to die for, it’s as if they decided to stop the coolness and suck a pop cock spitting the results out for all to enjoy.

Nick Zinner hasn’t put down the guitar as has been reported but it’s definitely sidelined for synths and disco beats which despite being a radical change, still sounds very much like Yeah Yeah Yeahs. ‘Heads will roll’ is Blondie modernised by producer Stuart Price with Karen O demanding you to “Dance, dance, dance til you’re dead”, the lovely ‘Soft shock’ wouldn’t be out of place on one of the softer tracks on Goldfrapp’s ‘Supernature’ whilst the dreamy ‘Hysteric’ pushes their acid laced pop one step further into the zone of critical and commercial acclaim and there’s one reason for that; you’ll be hard pushed to hear a better album all year.

9/10

Chris Todd

2004 long playing non-starter ‘How to dismantle an atomic bomb was as massive as everything they do, but was creatively redundant, a rethink was long overdue. The five years since that album has been punctuated with much head scratching and after ditching an albums worth of material recorded with Rick Rubin, they gave the call to long term collaborators, super-producers Daniel Lanois, Steve Lillywhite and Brian Eno. It’s a call that has worked out well for them as this album is easily their best since 1994’s ‘Zooropa’

For all their years of leeching off other bands for inspiration, their 11th album ‘No line on the horizon’ has them looking back at their own musical achievements and updating them whilst doffing a knowing cap to Arcade Fire have a lot to answer for, not only did they push Coldplay into making a decent album, they’ve also inspired U2 to be as anthemic as they always were but manages to steer clear of the usual histrionics associated with U2.

The brooding title track has U2 performing at their bombastic best, The Edge’s superior guitar work to the fore embracing their own past with a casual crib of their own ‘Unforgettable Fire’ battling against The Edge’s superior, the aching angst ridden ‘Magnificent’ with Bono blustering “only love can leave such a mark” is a purpose made arena filler and the high point; ‘Unknown Caller’. With yelped vocal statements similar to those of Tunde Adibempe of Brooklyn’s finest TV on the radio’. Beginning with Depeche Mode style electronica breaking into a chiming thing of crystallized beauty.

Fascinatingly, the best tracks, the first four, are all co-written with Brian Eno and Daniel Lanois and it’s their dark atmospherics which complement U2’s bluster to perfection, when not being assisted by the production heavyweights, the music is hollow, the sentiment lost and the fast forward button swiftly pressed. The hollow White Stripes rip off ‘Get on your boots’ is U2 having fun and when U2 have fun, it’s only ever them doing so. Whereas ‘I’ll go crazy if I don’t go crazy tonight’ is shameless irrelevant guff and the rock stodge of ‘Unknown Comedy’ sounds like so called psychic mid nineties rock losers Kula Shaker, it’s barrel scraping stuff.

For all the rumours of experimentation prior to this album, it doesn’t happen. Yes, there’s an occasional ambient aside here and an interesting new chime on Edges’ guitar there but more often than not ‘No Line on the horizon’ is just like all the other U2 albums, some great tracks, plenty of average ones and a few tentative steps towards trying something different only to run screaming back to their comfort zone, as usual, a feeling of being cheated prevails.

6/10
Chris Todd

With his reputation shot from dodgy albums and perceived dodgy political statements, no-one expected a double whammy of brilliant comeback singles; the incredibly defiant ‘Irish blood, English heart’, the desolate gorgeousness of ‘Let me kiss you’ or the almost euphoric ‘First of the Gang to die’, alongside them there were at least five other tracks just as good on what was his seventh solo album.
Coming so soon after ‘Quarry’, the Tony Visconti produced ‘Ringleader of the tormentors’ showed further glimpses of Morrissey at his best in ‘the swooning ‘I’ll never be anybody’s hero now’, the majestic Morriconne collaboration; ‘Dear god, please help me’ and his BEST solo track, the highly emotive ‘Life is a pigsty’ but signs of musical rot setting in were becoming apparent.

As X-Factor pop-mutants approve being in their ‘comfort zone’ (you mean filling supermarket shelves, right??), it’s not something that suits Morrissey. He’s supposed to be the beautiful outsider, he is not supposed to be the jumper lost in the wardrobe that you last wore in 1998 but can’t bring yourself to discard. He has played with the majority of people in his band long enough for the seething resentments to resemble a marriage which has run its course several times.

Steam rolling into the ears with the impressively aggressive opener ‘Something is squeezing my skull’, he portrays an existence reliant on prescription drugs to get through the day “diazepam; that’s valium, temazepam, lithium, HRT, ECT” before pleading, “oh how long must I stay on this stuff?”, it’s stirring stuff, a statement of intent, unfortunately that intent is to pummel the ears with musical slurry a singer can only wade in it, beating even a ringleader such as Mr. SPM.
The relentless chugging of ‘Mama lay me softly on the riverbed’ is dirgelike meandering and ‘Black Cloud’, oddly featuring hairy old rock pig Jeff Beck succeed in their endeavour to be over average with aplomb. The two new tracks that were tagged onto last years missed opportunity of a ‘Best of’, inexplicably re-appear here too, ‘All you need is me’ continues to tread water whereas ‘That’s where people grow up’ actually improves within its original intended place.

There are moments to keep even the most passive of Morrissey fans engaged. Although it doesn’t quite work, the mariachi led ‘When I last spoke to Carol’ shows there is a place for an occasional stab at variation despite every indie act in the UK doing cod Country and Western to show how amazingly innovative and eclectic they are.
When the blows are lessened, as on the lilting nod to his former band; “I’m throwing my arms around Paris,” his literary genius is abundantly clear, “In the absence of your love, and in the absence of human touch, I’ve decided I’m throwing my arms around Paris because only stone and steel accept my love”, Chris Martin cannot write like this.

The rollicking ‘Someday goodbye will mean farewell’, one of the best of the harder tracks here ends in typically dramatic fashion with him proclaiming “One day goodbye will be farewell, so grab me while we still have the time” whilst the finest track here, the dreamy torch song ‘You were good in your time’ is almost encore like in its sentiment with Morrissey giving one of his best vocal performances ever whilst acknowledging how his legacy is and always will be so important to his many fans, the lyrics resonate clearly; “You were good in your time and we thank you, you made me feel less alone, you made me feel not quite so deformed, uninformed and hunchbacked”.

More so than ever before, loss is at the forefront of Morrissey’s mind but instead of death, he constantly alludes to himself disappearing soon and we’d best make the most of it as we’ll miss him when he’s gone, although he has said this many times so boys and wolves come to mind. Will we miss him? Of course, it goes without saying but with each release becoming less essential than the last as it did during his mid nineties slump maybe it’s time for him to embrace his rich past and join Elton and Celine on the Vegas strip.

Chris Todd
7/10

This must be the fifty seventh ‘Best of’ they’ve released but London Conversations’, is the most comprehensive. Taking influences as wide ranging as Joe Meek, the early seventies output of The Beach Boys, the swinging sixties of their beloved London to cult movies such as The Wicker man and fifty years worth of pop culture, their back catalogue comprises many different genres made into a very British coup.

Long term fans will know the classics only too well, the break beat pop cover of Neil Young’s ‘Only love can break your heart’, the baggy dub shuffle of ‘Avenue’, the camp euro pop of ‘You’re in a bad way’ and the first Britpop anthem ‘Hobart Paving’, Britpop’ as in the early nineties sea change of musical creativity, not the flag waving sloganeering it became.

Always underrated, ‘London Conversations’ shows how they’ve inadvertently influenced many acts that have followed them. Accidental trip-hop anthem ‘Filthy’ can be directly linked to singers such as Santogold and MIA whilst ‘Like a Motorway’, one of the finest pop tunes of the nineties is responsible for the electro pop of Goldfrapp and even Kylie. New track ‘This is tomorrow’ produced by evil backroom geniuses’ Xenomania’ is sizzling pop Girls Aloud are too good at, if they continue in this vein; they could become a chart bothering act again.

Ultimately, at way over thirty songs long, the saccharine nature of Saint Etienne is like injecting yourself with a treacle overdose but if its three and a half minute pop nuggets you’re after then you needn’t look any further.

Chris Todd
8/10

Despite Gary Barlow’s prowess with a pop tune, it’s the odd vocal impediment of Mark Owen, Take That’s answer to Norman Wisdom which dominate the album. The Owen led cosiness of ‘Julie’ could be mistaken for Radio Two fodder such as The Script, whilst ‘Hello’ is ‘Shine’ Pt 2 where Take That even get political, yeah, they KNOW stuff with Owen failing lyrically on the credit crisis by lisping ‘Looks like the cost of houses is falling, but I don’t notice’.

There are other heroically bad lyrics on one of the best tracks, the Keane/Coldplay like bluster of “How did it come to this?”. Ringo’s (Jason to his mum) first ever lead vocal auto-tuned beyond recognition, name dropping unpoplike words such as neurotic, OCD and schizophrenic and in a bizarre work life balance inspired lyric he moans ‘It’s just my way of compartmentalising all the things I see”.

The title track is a dreamy pastiche of 70’s soft rock and The Beatles in their ‘All You need is love’ era psychedelic pomp, with Barlow swooning during the chorus “Everybody loves a circus show but I’m the only clown you’ll ever know”, this and the heavily Beach Boys influenced ballad ‘You’ with Barlow at his crooning best will guarantee there won’t be a dry knicker in the house.

Should I do a comment about them being ‘back for good’ now like everyone else?

Chris Todd
6/10

Of course it shouldn’t have worked, the “ha, look, we did an 80s album!!” nod to itself, a concept album about the life of international playboy John Delorean all made on analogue equipment; but pair together Boom Bip and Super Furry Animals front man Griff Rhys then it all makes sense.

‘Stainless Style’ proved you could look to the past and produce something contempory and make it look easy; the synth solo during the Pet Shop Boys influenced’ Belfast’, is pure 80s American cop show,the twinkling keyboard riffs on the pounding ‘Raquel’ are early Depeche Mode whilst the finest track ‘I told her on Alderran’ was a sublime combination of 80s new wave cheesy synth pop and the soaring melancholy of Rhys’ Furry friends.

With excursions into electro and left-field hip also thrown into the equation, ‘Stainless Style’ is a fantastic piece of work which despite being hideously retro, it simply oozes 2008!

2. David Holmes – The holy pictures
3. TV on the Radio – Dear Science
4. Does it offend you, yeah – You Have No Idea What you’re Getting Yourself Into
5. The Black Keys – Attack and Release
6. The Long Blondes – Couples
7. The Kills – Midnight Boom
8. Glasvegas – Glasvegas
9. Santogold - Santogold
10. MGMT - Oracular Spectacular

Also check - The Charlatans ‘You cross my path’ (yeah, they’ve stopped being rubbish for a bit!), Beck ‘Modern Guilt’, We are scientists - Brain Thrust Mastery, Bloc Party ‘Intimacy’, Primal Scream – Beautiful Future.