It Hugs Back and TODD!
Bands come and go like the tides these days, but sometimes you come across a band that you really hope beyond usual, stay around for a long time to come. It Hugs Back are one of those bands. Happened upon by yours truly on myspace (not Myspace again groan…) last month, they play hushed My Bloody Valentine style dream-pop with definite hints of lo-fi Joyzipper, and The Shins thrown in. Picked up (slowly) by the NME, the band look set to be given the next big thing treatment by ‘those wot make opinions’. Either way, we’re just getting our two pence in, so that you know the score without having to leave the comfort of you back room for too long. The band, based in London have dates lined up over the coming months in and around the capital, check ‘em out you won’t regret it. Alternatively, of course you could Mysearch them. See that; Mysearch, we made that up, clever.
We have a great deal of respect for Keith Richards round here. The man has reportedly consumed more mind altering concoctions, potions and pills than you or I could combined in a lifetime and he’s still walking, and breathing and standing. Apart from this week, when he fell out of a coconut tree and cracked his skull. The guitar hero narrowly escaped a serious brain op, with press reporting stories of brain haemorrhage still not confirmed. We wish him a speedy recovery.
Speaking of Rolling Stones, Primal Scream have gone back to their 1994 Stonesy roots and come up with new single ‘Country Girl’. We caught the video this week, and my, it’s a saucy one! Nudity, alcohol abuse, overcooked steak and crimes againt fashion…and that’s just Gillespie. Seriously though, it’s actually a decent enough little tune if you don’t mind leaving your brain in the bloodied remains of ‘Give Out But Don’t Give Up’, other than that, we’re kinda, well, indifferent. Damn good video though.
Sorry to keep on about this, but you know that band we’re always on about Todd? Well, things got a little weird this week with them. I was ambling along Berwick Street as you do, whistling the theme to Notts Landing, and sucking a lollypop, innocent like; when all of a sudden, this beam of black death light shot the f**k out of Sister Ray, and pulled me, doubled over, into the new music section, right up to ‘T’ for some strange reason. Well, I was shocked I can tell you. OK, I bought the new Todd record, and holy Christ on a motorbike, it’s more brutal, more sinister, more harrowing than I could ever possibly have imagined. It’s the demons of hell being seared with red hot pokers and gnarling, and gnashing and screaming bloody murder. Even for me, a somewhat hardened Todd fan, this was initially a blow I wasn’t sure I could recover from. It’s about as un-radio friendly a record as I have ever heard, but, and this is a big BUT; it is sublime.
It defies classification, and it’s damn well not even close to following any semblance of what constitutes how to write and record an album. Everything about this record is fierce, and unapologetic, and original, and inspiring. Drums have distortion plastered all over them, vocals chant and moan, and roar in some far off backgroundy type way; guitars break, and lurch, and pour layer after layer of bile into your ears. It’s Sonic Youth on steroids time a million with some Norweigan pigs-head eating Viking on vocals. And that is what it is. Don’t be put off though, for sometimes you have to break something to make it better, and this is undoubtedly what Craig Clouse and Todd, have realised a long, long time ago.
Alas we are off, more next week.
Cass
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Supergrass In The Summer
