James Brown. The first response that I usually get when I mention this name is a guttural ‘huh’. Which means that unfortunately the novelty of this man’s character has overtaken the brilliance of his music. This is a real shame. I started listening to James Brown only recently and have heavily fallen under the funk.

Do this now. Go onto Spotify and find the song “Get Up (I Feel Like A Sex Machine)”. Close your eyes. Bob your head when those horns kick in and feel the groove of that guitar and bass. Forget Hip Hop. Forget George Clinton. Forget Mowtown and Michael Jackson. Forget for a second all that came after, and imagine just for a second that it is 1965. Just imagine that Martin Luther King is still alive. Imagine for one tiny moment that you are in a tiny Harlem nightclub. Pretend you can feel the sweat and smell the pot spraying around the dance floor. Imagine that the man is there in front of you screaming his lungs out. Do this and the novelty will die. Do this and the spirit of those times will remain strong even if it is just in your mind.

Recently in Sydney, Australia I became one of the lucky few in Australia who can hold their head up high and say ‘Yes, I have seen the best band in the world’. Sure people can disagree with me if they want, but in my mind nothing can be better than seeing Radiohead now in 2012. 

So I know that every man and their half lame, completely deaf dog has declared this album to be one of the greatest of all time. But when one takes into consideration where this album sits in the continuum of music and even pop culture; thinking about what has come before and everything that will come after, these glowing approvals are understandable and agreeable. 

“I want a daughter while I’m still young, I want to hold her hand and show her some beauty before this damage is done.”

After listening to this album in a car full of friends, during a long road trip, one cannot helped but be moved. Lyrically the album is superb. It perfectly captures the state of the late naughties. People are consumed by hate in other countries while the western world is consumed by teenage love, broken friendships and generic shopping malls. Nothing is more moving than sitting in a shitty car built in the early nineties screaming out “SO YOUNG SO YOUNG SO MUCH PAIN FOR SOMEONE SO YOUNG” with four of your closest friends. Try it.

“Dead shopping malls rise like mountains beyond mountains”

Musically the album sounds simple at a first listen. ‘Yeah whatever it sounds like an indie rock/folk band’. But then you sit in your room one sunny afternoon and put the album on, and this is when you realise this album is something different. You realise that what you are hearing is a Helm’s Deep size wall of melodies and countermelodies and harmonies and it blows you away. 

“And it seems strange, how we used to wait for letters to arrive. But what’s stranger still is how something so small can keep you alive.”

draapemusic:

Notice the Drummer rocking out. 

Hailing from the capital of one of Europe’s most overlooked and mysterious countries, Norway, Dråpe shout out blasting your ears and emotions with a sound that could be found both in a German punk rock club, and on the Soundtrack of a David Attenborough feature on the Arctic.

The heavily affected guitars seem to be painting a picture of Scandanavia, beautiful Fjords,  and heavy forests, similarly to the way that Sigur Ros describe the landscape of Iceland in their songs. Everything builds into each other, the guitars squeal and vocals softly stroke your heart; waves of beautiful noise. 

However, what Dråpe also manage to achieve is an intense aggression simultaneously to this beauty. The drums pound away throughout this wave, cutting through the mix, hitting the listener and causing him/her to nod heads and smile. A distinct interpretation of rhythm is what makes this band exceptional. It is this sound that makes this band simply ROCK. It is this simple feature that gives the band it’s punk shout! 

The following is a collection of songs i feel every person should put on a playlist, for those long train trips. It is recommended that you listen to these songs when reading. 

• Homeward Bound - Simon and Garfunkel

Yes this is the definitive train song, Paul Simon’s 12 string flows with the energy of the train and the landscape. However it is a very powerful song and so should be treated appropriately by the listener. This song is only to be listened to if you are in fact ‘homeward bound’. It is ideal if a girl/boy is waiting for you at the end of the tracks, welcoming you home. It is too confronting to listen to in any other scenario. 

• I Am Trying To Break Your Heart - Wilco

This song, which fits in very well with the American country side, is another song people should prepare before a train trip. As the train slides through abandoned towns, you stare up the buildings, smiling when you see parents taking their children to the park. As you move out of the town the acoustic guitar rises and you begin to fly through the dust bowl towns of central America. When the whole song rises, bass drums and keyboards, the train flies over a bridge, overlooking a immense lake.

• St. Stephen (Live 1969, Fillmore West) - Grateful Dead

No, you don’t need drugs to enjoy this band, just vivid scenery. I would say thick European forestry, animals should be frequent too. As you pass a small German cottage, the owner, who is wearing overalls and an impressive beard, raises his hand as you pass. When the mood in the song drops you pass a man sitting on the floor of the forest staring into the abyss in front of him, he is obviously blind but the image remains in your mind for the rest of the trip. 

• Separator - Radiohead

This song should be used to admire the inside of the train. You admire the girl to your left, you try and figure out what the two Japenese guys behind you are talking about. it is dark outside, so all you see is your reflection staring back at you. You attempt to fix your hair but give up. With a lack of things to do you go to the buffet and buy you sixth cup of tea.

• Solitude - Billie Holiday (Composed by Duke Ellington)

The song that requires your girlfriend to be asleep in you lap. She looks beautiful and peaceful. You pat her hair as she sleeps, and admire the mountains that pass the window. When you kiss her on the forehead she smiles to her self, and opens her eyes.

Rock Warriors

Firstly, it is impossible to review this band without admitting to occasionally inhaling the smoke of a substance that, for the sake of discretion we will call ‘m….’

After mixing these two amazing things; m… and Tame Impala, it appears that the two were created in a lab to compliment each other. In an interview when asked whether or not the music was ‘drug music’ the band replied, ‘all music sounds good on drugs, it isn’t our fault’. 

When listening to this band’s first full length album, Innerspeaker, it becomes evident that the album, and the songs represent a battle. The band play with such immense furosity that it is evident that they are fighting a power. The Black Sabbath drums, the pounding Led Zeppelin bass line, the early Pink Floyd guitar sounds. It is not a battle in the way that Punk Rock is a battle. It is a battle in the way that the siege of Minas Tirith is a battle… (If Lord of the Rings was set on Mars). They are fighting something truly epic. Some Mythical oppresive force.

They are a part of a huge group of warriors known as rock stars. This group of warriors was first etablished in the late sixties. It’s early champions fought an intense battle. Many fell on the field; Hendrix, Morrison and Jones. Many were sucked in by the Epic Force; Jefferson Airplane and Pink Floyd. Others continued fighting for their whole lives; The Grateful Dead and Frank Zappa. But now a new champion has appeared, and they are strong. 

1

He popularised baggy granmother sweaters, more than forty years before Brett from Flight Of The Conchords, did the same thing.

2

He also popularised dying tragically at the age of 27. Well before Hendrix, Morrison and Cobain. 

3 

Popularised being that wacky, artistic, drugged up member of the group, long before John Frusciante and  Jerry Garcia, copied the idea.

In my opinion, no one, except for maybe Syd Barrett or John Lennon, has such a sad biography as the late sixties, and early seventies folk singer, Nick Drake. One of the truly amazing things about this singer is that, by just judging him by his exterior, and music, he seems like one of the sweetest hippies of his time, out hippying even Jerry Garcia, a feet many have shot for but fell short. When, simultaneously, his own personallity seems to out-emo any fringe wearing, black coated, pimple infested teenager of the 21st century.

 Just by listening to that sofly sung English voice, and listening to that wonderfully plucked guitar, one is swept off into Drakes dreamworld. This world is a magical place where, people sit around in there overgrown backyards, talking to pretty girls, letting their hair grow long, and chasing after those nifty elves that live behind the shed. What makes this world all the more fantastic is that very few people have been there, as Nick Drake isn’t nearly popular enough to attract any kind of pop following. It feels this backyard is occupied primarily by Drake, Neil Young, a 9th Century English Prince, and of course yourself, the listener.

“And now we rise, and we are everywhere, and now we rise, from the ground.”

“You can take the road that takes you to the stars now, I can take the road the will see me clear”

However, after reading in to the character himself, this dreamland begins to deteriorate, or rather alter. Instead of a back yard, it is a small alleyway in Liverpool. And instead of Neil Young, English Princes and pretty girls, you realise that it is just Drake, a guitar and you the listener. Drake rarely perfomed live, in fact almost never. He veered away from any fame that was cast his way, which in reality he deserved. In fact it is said that his own room mate didn’t even know that Drake played guitar until he walked in on him on the act one day, even though Drake had already released two albums. This reclusive Drake killed himself in 1974, overdosing on anti-depressants.

Afer listening to his songs then learning of this, one can do nothing but feel heartbroken.