Never in the wildest dreams of a Blur fan’s imagination could he have envisioned the wondrous return of Britpop’s most illustrious quartet after nine years without releasing any new material. Although the band reunited briefly in 2009 to perform in Hyde Park for their devoted legion of fans, that reunion was simply transformed into a documentary rather than another album. After being honored at the Brit Awards on February 21st with the Outstanding Contribution to Music Award, Blur created further music history by performing the longest set the awards ceremony has ever known. Tracks included “Girls & Boys,” “Song 2,” “Parklife,” “Tender,” and, one of their lesser appreciated songs, “This Is A Low.”

Though it was hinted at last month by William Orbit (who produced one of their best works, 13) that Blur had been working on a new album together, the collective confirmation from Damon Albarn, Graham Coxon, Alex James, and Dave Rountree has answered the prayers of those who have noticed the visible lack since Blur stopped making music together. But no longer do we have to exist in a world of such darkness–the first new track, “Under the Westway,” has already been performed live and was received quite well by Blur’s audience.

With the legitimacy of a new song already out in the open, it would appear that it’s all finally happening for Blur again (and, this time, without Oasis around as their “competition”). And, as if the promise of a new album was not enough, the group has also been confirmed to play the closing ceremony at the Olympics in August, once again returning to Hyde Park for what will undoubtedly be another memorable performance.

And, if nothing else, Blur can at least rest assured that they hold a prominent place in 2012′s most memorable music moments for being the catalyst that prompted producers of the Brit Awards to cut Adele’s acceptance speech short.

In the exhaustive, never-ending battle of Liam vs. Noel Gallagher, it looks like Noel has all but emerged victorious.

Beady Eye, a.k.a. Oasis Minus Noel, played their first Los Angeles gig last night at the Wiltern, and it was as underwhelming as their 2011 debut record Different Gear, Still Speeding.

Whereas Noel Gallagher’s High Flying Birds shined last month at two sold-out UCLA Royce Hall shows, Beady Eye couldn’t sell out the Wiltern. Maybe fans did some research and realized Liam & Company weren’t playing any Oasis songs on this tour, or maybe enough people don’t know about Beady Eye. KROQ has played some of Noel’s material, but it doesn’t seem as if Beady Eye have received close to the same amount of attention radio-wise.

At any rate, the show was mostly entertaining, despite the set list’s abundance of Beady Eye songs that just weren’t super fantastic.

Opening the night were local LA lads Incan Abraham, who basically sounded like a mix between Vampire Weekend and Foster the People. Think danceable indie-pop-rock with keyboards and driving rhythms, that sort of thing. They didn’t really sound especially unique, overall, given the wealth of indie pop-dance-rock bands out there now, but they did give off a more authentic vibe than the now-very-overexposed Foster the People.

A blurry pic of BBR

Up next were Belgium’s The Black Box Revelation, who were…yeah, a revelation. A two-piece rock duo comprised of Jan Paternoster and Dries Van Dijck, they were basically the European version of the Black Keys, but with an added layer of dirtyness thrown into the mix. They had the same type of soulful, blues-laden garage rock that the Black Keys had a few albums ago, but with some unique flourishes that were aided by Paternoster’s buzzsaw of a voice. He’s also a master on the guitar, shredding with ease as Van Dijck slammed into his drum aggressively. Hopefully 2012 brings them more attention stateside, because albums like 2011′s My Perception deserve it. They’re a great, powerful act.

Coming onstage to a huge glowing “Beady Eye” backdrop (ostensibly a middle-finger to the face of Noel, in terms of a “this is who we are now, fuck off! type of thing), Beady Eye went right into Four Letter Word, one of their best songs thus far in their short career.

Liam, clad in a ridiculously heavy-looking green overcoat and scarf (probably from his Pretty Green clothing line) obviously relishes in the fact that Noel isn’t next to him onstage distracting the crowd from his antics. He pranced around, at one point reaching into the crowd and hoisting a fan’s Manchester City soccer scarf into the air with pride. He also autographed a fan’s outstretched LP, which was amusing.

Musically, Beady Eye’s sound was dominated by Liam’s voice, which was very high in the mix. The fact that the Wiltern wasn’t really close to capacity probably helped in the stage noises being lost in the fold, but it was hard to hear guitarists Andy Bell and Gem Archer sometimes.

Considering they aren’t playing any Oasis songs yet, the band stuck to their debut album, as well as some non-album tunes like In the Bubble with a Bullet, World Outside My Room and Man of Misery. The abundance of their own songs made the second half of the set drag a bit, considering they have probably released more songs than they should have, thus far. Some didn’t translate well live, and others were just boring.

Despite the lack of stellar source material, the band played well enough; what you could hear of the musicians sounded good enough, particularly drummer Chris Sharrock – he played hard on each song, even the slower, more meandering ones. Liam, meanwhile, did all the typical Liam things – standing with his back to the crowd, having short conversations with random fans up close, and occasionally gazing out intensely at no one in particular. He’s always loved the spotlight, and you could tell that he really enjoys being the total focal point of the band.

However, the band’s lack of great material made this show pale in comparison to Noel’s last month. After all, he was the main songwriter in Oasis, and took with him a lot of their talent. Beady Eye are decent, but their songs definitely lack the same kind of immediacy and power of some of Noel’s work.

Hopefully, Beady Eye are able to expand their sound a bit, branching out creatively to make some music that stands on its own better than their debut record provided.

Who needs Oasis?

Noel Gallagher, the songwriting half of the ever-quarreling Gallagher brothers, released his first proper solo album, Noel Gallagher’s High-Flying Birds, today. Well, it came out in the UK last month, but the US had to wait until today for its proper release.

Perhaps predictably, the album is bursting with Britpop flavor delivered with the precision and skill one might expect from a songwriter like Noel, who wrote some of the 1990s’ biggest and most memorable Britpop songs. While it’s true this album might lack a definitive Wonderwall, Champagne Supernova, or Live Forever, that doesn’t take away from its impact one bit.

Opener Everybody’s On the Run begins with a chorus of voices and an orchestral flourish, allowing Gallagher and his team of assembled musicians to drive home the point that this is an album meant to be taken rather seriously. Noel’s sweeping chorus of Hang in there love/ You’ve gotta hold on/Hang in there love/You’ve gotta hold on elevates the song’s overall feel to one of urgency and serves as a gorgeous introduction to Noel’s long-awaited and much-anticipated foray into the “solo artist” world.

Oasis broke up in 2009, Liam’s band Beady Eye quickly put out a debut album (ostensibly just to beat Noel to the punch), but Noel took his time, and it shows.

Dream On is driven by the type of beat that calls to mind Oasis songs like The Importance of Being Idle, among others. Dream On has a rich, engaging melody, the kind that Noel seems to be able to churn out with ease.

If I Had a Gun…, though, is arguably the finest song on this album, and one of the best Noel’s ever composed. If I had a gun/I’d shoot a hole into the sun/And love would burn this city down for you, Noel sings over some gentle guitar chords, before the song takes on “anthem” status. A simple vocal hook drives the song’s standout melody, as well as the chord progression. It’s not a world-changing song structurally, but it does the “Noel Gallagher emotional song” thing exceedingly well. Its cathartic feel and lyrical themes (it’s about love, simple as that) have the power to transport you back to the mid-1990s, when songs like this received the attention they deserved. This is the sort of number that Noel detractors/people who think his creative peak passed after (What’s the Story) Morning Glory? should hear.

Check out the video below.

The Death of You and Me also uses the same rhythmic feel as The Importance of Being Idle, but as the album’s first single it boasts one of the strongest choruses, as well.

(I Wanna Live In A Dream In My) Record Machine is a tune Noel had been working on for years. Originally an Oasis b-side, the song is now much louder and dynamic than the tender acoustic song it once was. It was a good decision to re-vamp Record Machine for this album.

AKA…What A Life! brings with it a sense of urgency, mostly due to the propulsive piano plucks that combine with the percussion to give the song a grabbing, immediate feel. Noel again does the “sweeping vocal hook” thing here, and it pays off as well as it did with If I Had A Gun. Check out the 8-minute video below, and look for the offbeat cameo by Russell Brand.

AKA…Broken Arrow’s verse strips away the bells and whistles of elaborate instrumentation and choir-like vocals, allowing Noel and his guitar to take center stage. It’s a welcomed switch-up, and when the musical accompaniment returns for the memorable chorus the song is elevated to “album highlight” status. You might think you’ve heard this song before; the chorus is very Oasis-like, melody-wise, but it has the flourishes and accentuations that make up the definitive High-Flying Birds sound.

(Stranded On) The Wrong Beach, a bouncy, swaying jam finds Noel singing Oh, me oh my/I say so long, and baby bye-bye. The song has an almost country twang to it, and Noel tweaks his vocal delivery accordingly. It becomes a bit redundant to say “it has one of the album’s best melodies”, but it really does. He knows a thing or two about writing a catchy tune.

The album concludes with Stop the Clocks, another song Noel has been working on for years. Its pairing of pianos, a slow pace and Noel’s vocals calls to mind Let There Be Love (off Oasis’s 2005 album Don’t Believe the Truth). It’s a perfect album-capper: a dreamlike, atmospheric song that could be the soundtrack to a flight through the clouds, its melodies ascending and expanding with the aid of ethereal vocal choruses before coming back down to Earth for a jangly, horn-filled Britpop coda that serves as an exclamation point to the song’s sonic ups and downs.

(Note: This album has a handful of bonus tracks floating around on its various editions that can expand the track list, but the “standard” edition of the album ends with Stop the Clocks.)

Simply put, Noel Gallagher’s High-Flying Birds is probably the best thing he could have released as a first solo record. Oasis only disbanded two years ago, but Noel’s had some of these songs in the works for quite awhile. He has stated plans to release another album sometime next year, indicating that he still has a lot left in the tank, songwriting-wise.

As a lifelong Oasis fan, this is the album I was anticipating after he and Liam had their big fight in 2009. While they’ve hinted at burying the hatchet AGAIN and re-forming in 2015 for the 20^th anniversary of Morning Glory (which would be great), this album shows that Noel is more than capable of continuing his musical legacy well past his original band’s expiration date.

Noel might be a polarizing figure, due to his outspoken personality and penchant for saying colorful things, but you can’t deny his songwriting prowess. It shines throughout this album, which can hold its own pretty well against most Oasis records.

Enjoy the video for The Death of You and Me below.

Kasabian released their fourth album, Velociraptor!, last week. Chances are, if you’re in the United States, you had no idea A. That they released a new album, or B. That there’s a band called Kasabian.

This is a band that has been criminally overlooked outside of Europe, where they routinely play stadiums and arenas, for the entirety of their career. The band’s debut self-titled album, released in 2004, contained the American “single” Club Foot, which received a modicum of airplay back then. Since that time, though, the band has been virtually invisible in this country, despite becoming more and more popular overseas.

Well, if you were unaware, Velociraptor! Continues the band’s progression from 2010’s West Ryder Pauper Lunatic Asylum, and is a damn fine album to add to Kasabian’s repertoire.

Opener Let’s Roll Just Like We Used To acts as an introduction to the band for the uninitiated. A gong announces the start of the aural adventure, before Spanish-themed horns set the tone. Vocalist Tom Meighan’s recognizable voice kicks in after the ominous beginning, his drawl accentuated by melodic flourishes in the background. A horn and percussion break amps up the energy, before Meighan comes back to lift the song into its sprawling chorus, which would make a fantastic theme song for an adventure film in the Wild West.

Speaking of movie themes, every time I’ve heard Days Are Forgotten it just sounds like the perfect James Bond theme song. For anyone familiar with Club Foot, this song revisits the vocal blips that made that song notable, wile Meighan shouts his words with fury. When the anthemic chorus of Days are forgotten/ Now it’s all over/Simply forgotten kicks in, aided by Sergio Pizzorno’s cascading guitar frills, the song is elevated to “classic Kasabian” status. It’s really the type of song that best demonstrates the band’s signature sound, which routinely blends atmospherics, resonating guitar work and Meighan’s more than capable vocal chops.

The transition between that song and Goodbye Kiss, though, is a bit jarring. Trading in the atmospherics for a more relaxed, straightforward approach, the song shows the band’s ability to branch out a bit from their normal comfort zone. It’s a catchy tune.

Light acoustic guitar strumming starts off La Fee Verte, which finds Meighan lamenting a bout with the evil powers of absinthe. Oh green fairy/What’ve you done to me? I see Lucy in the sky/Telling me I’m high, he exclaims, before some lush instrumentation plays off his vocals melodically. The horns make their return on this track, which is one of the album’s highlights, due to the pleasing combination of Meighan’s voice and the song’s gorgeous melodies.

Title track Velociraptor! picks up the energy a bit, justifying the title’s exclamation point usage with its fast pace and immediacy. Meighan snarls, singing over himself while a flurry of keyboards, percussion, and guitars battle throughout.

The oddly titled Acid Turkish Bath (Shelter from the Storm) is the type of Kasabian song that probably keeps them from the limelight in the United States: it’s too “out there”. Piano plucks, a slow rhythm, abstract lyrical themes and multiple tempo shifts make up the song. Meighan’s slow and drawn-out vocals add to the song’s weirdness, and help make it another of Velociraptor!’s standouts.

The electro-fied I Hear Voices would be a fitting soundtrack for a creepy late night drive, especially its use of twisted melodies and synthesizers.

Re-wired is another of the “classic Kasabian”- sounding tunes on the album; an engaging and building verse explodes into a sing-along chorus of Hit me! Harder! I’m getting re-wired/ I flip the switch that make you feel electric/Even! Faster! Than before/I’m gonna light ‘em up with you that is among the best the band has ever made. Highlight, standout, whatever you want to call it, that’s what Re-Wired is. It has it all.

Man of Simple Pleasures slows down the energy again, bringing with it another spaghetti western-ready tune. Kasabian really know how to make songs that would fit perfectly in various types of movies; they tackle all kinds of exotic sounds and song accompaniments with barely any effort. That’s a gift.

As with most Kasabian records, there’s a heavy electronic thumper, and this album’s is Switchblade Smiles. After the club-ready synth takes over, dirty guitars come to the forefront, as well as Meighan’s cries of Can you feel it comin’?, making it another sprawling, anthemic adventure. It’s like club-rock for raver kids who don’t rave.

Album closer Neon Noon ends things on a somber note, calming down substantially after the fury of Switchblade Smiles. In it, the band do their best Britpop impression, but of course with a little synth. Despite its Britpop tendencies, the song doesn’t adhere to one specific style, which again is the band’s calling card.

Perhaps that’s partly to blame for Kasabian’s failure to really resonate on an international level; their songs defy classification. There’s techno, there’s some dance, there’s Britpop, there’s straightforward “rock”. It’s all there, but never consistently; their ever-changing styles and ability to challenge themselves multiple times on an album probably limit their appeal in this era of pigeonholing and small-mindedness. They’re just too good.

That’s a damn shame, really, because Velociraptor! is a great album.

Let’s all hope that they figure out a way to tour the United States in 2012, because they haven’t been here in a LONG time.

If that happens, you owe it to yourself to make sure you’re there.

First and foremost, though, go find Velociraptor! and give it a spin. The band deserves your attention, United States. You’ve already ignored them for eight years. Enough is enough.

Judging by the crowd’s enthusiasm at The Kooks’ intimate sold-out show at the Troubadour on Thursday night, you’d think the Beatles had risen from the grave.

The British pop-rock band stopped by Hollywood as part of their very short 3-city (San Francisco, LA and New York City) mini-tour before heading back across the sea in preparation for their upcoming album, Junk of the Heart, due out on September 12^th. A sizable portion of the Kooks’ set list was new and unfamiliar songs, but the screaming, squealing (and predominately female) audience didn’t seem to mind.

LA-based band Family of the Year opened the night’s festivities with an eclectic and varied blend of folksy, sometimes keyboard-driven music. The band’s roughly thirty minute set, which served as a showcase of their full-length debut Songbook, was filled with highlights.

Family of the Year

FOTY’s songs have a quiet energy to them that really pays off live; even the more subdued numbers were delivered with a passion and precision that was a testament to their musicianship. I hadn’t previously heard much about FOTY, but they were the kind of surprise that is very enjoyable at concerts such as this: many times when big, successful bands do mini-tours of intimate venues, some random (and usually bland) local band is tossed on the bill to warm up the disinterested crowd, but thankfully this wasn’t one of those occasions. Family of the Year were impressive, and deserve to find themselves getting some more high-profile gigs in the coming months. It should be noted that after the show, the band’s rental van (with all of their equipment inside) was stolen from outside the Troubadour. Help them recover all their lost stuff by spreading the word. Things like this shouldn’t happen.

After FOTY moseyed off-stage, the anticipation swelled. The Troubadour, packed to capacity on a warm summer night, began pulsating with heat. Even upstairs in the cool people VIP area it was hard to get a good vantage point that didn’t feel like standing in a cramped sauna. Around 9:30, the lights dimmed and the screaming began. When Luke Pritchard, Hugh Harris, Peter Denton and Chris Prendergast emerged onto the stage, the anticipation of the previous hour and a half had reached its apex.

The band launched into set opener Always Where I Need To Be (a perfect first song), and by that time the scene could have been lifted from old 1970s archival footage: Pritchard bouncing around the stage with a Jim Morrison-like presence, his open shirt and disheveled hair bobbing around, eliciting many outstretched palms from the kids up front.

It became apparent rather quickly that the Kooks are a fantastic live band. What makes them stand out lies in the power of their live sound: in concert, the Kooks manage to sound both raw and polished on each song. They don’t sound TOO clean, and at the same time they aren’t feedback-y and incoherent either. There’s a dirtiness and imperfection to their live sound that works exceedingly well.

In the United States, the Kooks haven’t ever really been one of those “huge” British bands. They’ve received a modicum of radio play for Naïve and She Moves In Her Own Way, but considering how lively the crowd was at this show you’d think they were as big here as they are at home. When they played those two hit songs at about the midway point of the show, you could sense everyone’s camera phones being lifted into the air.

But enough about the hits. The Kooks played six new tunes at this show, presumably off of Junk of the Heart, and for the most part the new songs were evidence that they will only grow in popularity come September. After Konk favorite Shine On, we were treated to Carried Away, a mellow, acoustic number that showed some creative maturity – piano plucks, tempo changes, the whole bit. Mr. Nice Guy was another mellow new tune, again with a nice, easy rhythm and some piano accompaniment. While not a new song, Do You Wanna did provide one of the night’s most enjoyable moments. The band jammed it out, slowing it down and allowing the song’s energy to be stretched out to a powerful five minutes or so. Pritchard milked the crowd’s energy by walking from side to side and reaching his hand out, much to the fervent delight of the girls up close. After Naïve, the band played How D’ya Like That, another keyboard-led new one.

Considering how many of the new songs featured slower rhythms and heavy piano use, it will be interesting to see if the Kooks are going in a new direction with Junk of the Heart, moving away from the simplistic guitar-driven Brit pop-rock of their first two albums. Eskimo Kiss started out with a sweet acoustic riff before picking up a bit and going into jangly summer-y pop. The song could end up being the next Naïve, as it had the same kind of catchiness and memorable energy that made Naïve such a hit. Saboteur packed a Beatles/Pink Floyd-esque punch, with Pritchard manning the piano. The tempo changed quite a few times, slowing down into dreamy 60s pop before picking back up. It was definitely a challenging song, and a far cry from anything the Kooks have created thus far in their career.

Stormy Weather rounded out the initial set, before they came back onstage (to more screams) for an encore of Seaside, new song Is It Me and show-closer Sofa Song. Pritchard did his best Julian Casablancas impression on Is It Me, his lazy delivery taking charge before the guitars came in. When Sofa Song ended and the house lights came up, the hour and twenty minute set was over. Based on the new songs, it’s apparent that the Kooks may be radically shifting their sound, which is always a tricky maneuver for bands of their stature. Fellow British lads Arctic Monkeys gave their fans a lot of headaches with the marked difference of Humbug, but the Kooks probably won’t have that problem with Junk of the Heart. The new songs were fresh and memorable for their difference, but that’s the true mark of a band maturing well.

The Kooks’ gig at the Troubadour was a fantastic hour and a half of top-tier British music from four very talented musicians. The band has a swagger and stage presence that is at home both in huge stadiums and tiny stages, and that’s part of the reason they’re as successful as they are. It was all on display during this hot, sweaty, jam-packed night of Britpop bliss.

The Kooks set list

Always Where I Need To Be

Eddie’s Gun

See The World

Ooh La

Carried Away

She Moves In Her Own Way

Mr. Nice Guy

Do You Wanna

Naive

How D’ya Like That

Eskimo Kiss

Shine On

Saboteur

Stormy Weather

——-

Seaside

Is It Me

Sofa Song

Kooks Set List

When main songwriter/guitarist Noel Gallagher quit Britpop icons Oasis in August 2009 after a backstage brawl with brother/band mate/sparring partner Liam, the future seemed very uncertain for the rest of the band.

Not content to allow Noel to win the epic long-standing brother battle, Liam Gallagher immediately formed a new band with the rest of the group: Gem Archer (guitar, piano, bass), Andy Bell (bass, guitar), and Chris Sharrock (drums).

Obviously, this new project was definitively NOT Oasis, since Noel’s guitar work and melodies would be absent.

Instead, this new project was given the name Beady Eye, and Liam and the gang began working on a debut record.

That album, Different Gear, Still Speeding, was released today in Europe and tomorrow stateside, and listening to it one can’t help but think that it was just a little bit rushed.

It isn’t too far-fetched to imagine that Liam tried his damndest to make sure this came out before any Noel solo material, as if that would automatically christen him “top Gallagher”. Noel, indeed, hasn’t released any solo work as of yet, but he is reportedly hard at work on various new musical endeavors.

In short, Different Gear, Still Speeding is exactly what one would expect it to be: simplistic Britpop, without anything as memorable or urgent as some of the best Oasis songs. There’s no Wonderwall, Live Forever, Champagne Supernova or Supersonic on this record. Thankfully, though, this isn’t a collection of thirteen The Meaning of Soul clones, either. While Beady Eye don’t really distance themselves much from the Oasis style, the album still somehow manages to be better than expected.

Album opener Four Letter Word starts things off with a bang, charging drums and an orchestral flourish building to a bouncy rhythm that includes Liam’s trademark nasal vocals delivering the line Sleepwalk away the life/If that turns you on/It’s only a moment/Look away and it’s gone. Perhaps a dig at Noel’s departure from Oasis? It’s more than possible.

It sounds like a classic late-career Oasis album opener, and Liam sounds even more snarly and pissy than usual. In all, it’s a solid start to the album.

Millionaire, with its slide guitar and bluesy feel, changes the vibe presented by the opening track, seemingly Beady Eye’s attempt to say “Hey, we don’t need Noel to switch things up a bit!”, even if the chorus isn’t as memorable as it seems to think it is. Nice guitars, though.

The Roller was the first single released by the band, and it doesn’t do much to distance itself from the tried-and-true Oasis sound. Piano plucks drive the song and its steady rhythm, which does boast a strong chorus. Liam’s again at his whiny best, something fans (and non-fans) grew to love (or hate) about him. There’s a nice guitar bridge which switches things up, too.

This isn’t an Oasis record, technically, but it still has plenty of the same type of heavy handed Beatles homages that were prevalent on so many Oasis records.

The obviously titled Beatles and Stones, for one, manages to namedrop both classic UK Invasion bands while musically sounding exactly like The Who’s My Generation. It’s one of the more throwaway tracks on the album, but at least it seems to be self-aware.

A lot of the other tracks on the record have a familiar feeling to them, as if they’ve been heard before: Wind Up Dream has a grimy sleaze to it, Liam’s layered vocals matching up with a lazy riff nicely. As with most of the songs here, though, it fails to really go anywhere.

The same can be said for Bring the Light, which is nothing if not energetic, thanks to its piano-pounding melody and Liam repeating “Baby come on!” over and over.

Looks like there's some room next to Liam by that gate...

For Anyone is the requisite mid-album jangly acoustic tune, Liam doing some Beatles-ish crooning over a cacophony of acoustic guitar picking.

Surprisingly, though, the album picks up a bit with Kill For a Dream. Starting out with Liam talking about forgiving and being “here if you want to call”, which again might be a not-so-veiled call to Noel to make amends for the 756^th time, the song might actually be considered memorable. Squeally, oh-so-British rock guitar riffs accentuate the verses, Liam’s voice full of whimsy and what almost seems like a hurt sincerity.

Wigwam continues the upward trend, another midtempo tune utilizing keyboards to accentuate Liam’s echo-y vocals. Aesthetically pleasing, the song manages to almost get to “memorable” status, even though it too fails to really have that “wow” factor that the melodies in some of the best Oasis tunes had.

Three Ring Circus is a snotty boot-stomping affair, Liam again snarling his way through the verses to the sweeping chorus, which finds him drawing out the title phrase in a slow delivery that gives way to the requisite mid-song guitar solo. The tune manages to be one of the more memorable on the album.

The Beat Goes On and The Morning Sun close out the affair, with the last track in particular managing to be pretty dreamy, thanks to Liam’s echoed vocals and the acoustic strumming.

In all, Different Gear, Still Speeding does manage to be a bit better than expected. Rather than copping the sound of most Liam-penned Oasis songs, Beady Eye are apparently capable of crafting some worthwhile tunes, although there is definitely some filler.

There really wasn’t anywhere else this album could have gone, considering the band’s personnel. Had they created something distinctly anti-Oasis, it would have been jarring, but of course they chose not to go down that path.

The album is also absolutely nowhere near close to being “better than Definitely Maybe” (sorry, Liam), but it is good at being exactly what it is: a post breakup record, of sorts, with Liam and the rest of the band assuming the “jilted former lover” position, making sure to assert their independence where due. However, despite some of this independence that the songs call for, they also make it seem as if the proverbial door is open for Noel to return. That’s what any Oasis fan would want, for Noel to rejoin the band and the Oasis name to be whole again.

Given the history of the Gallagher brothers, that isn’t too outlandish of an idea, as it almost seems inevitable that Oasis will be one again at some point.

In the meantime, we’ll have to deal with Beady Eye records and whatever projects Noel decides to spend time with.

In closing, it’s not surprising that this album isn’t as good as most Oasis albums.

What is surprising, though, is that it also isn’t as bad as most people probably would have expected it to be.

Sex is not exactly a rare subject in music, and in fact many songs are infamous simply for how graphically they depict it. A bit less popular though, it seems, are songs more focused on the expression of the actual desire that precedes the act, and that’s what I wanted to focus on with this week’s list. So without further rambling, let’s get on with it, shall we? As usual, feel free to add any suggestions.

A Tribe Called Quest – Electric Relaxation

Guerilla mackin', yo

One of the best qualities of this song  is how utterly blatant they are about trying to get into girls’ pants… and yet it still sounds so classy and poetic. A lot of this is that slow, jazzy beat, which is about as smooth as I’ve ever heard hip-hop sound. Then there’s Q-Tip and Phife’s flawless trade-off throughout, flirting away with the objects of their affection while making their intentions perfectly clear.

Elysian Fields – Black Acres

Oh my

Like most Elysian Fields songs, Jennifer Charles truly makes this hers with those ungodly gorgeous vocals. On Black Acres, she gives such a lurid description of temptation gone awry that the imagery of lines like “Pressing close, I can’t behave” or “I’m up against his downy chest” practically jump out at you, all while the spare instrumentation carries on its dark tune behind her. Behind her… sheesh.

Massive Attack – Inertia Creeps

SMOOOKE.

While this song’s lyrics apply more to lust as something to trap somebody in a destructive relationship, the dark, dull throb of the music along with Robert Del Naja’s sinister, whispered vocals feel more like embracing it and recollecting an impassioned night with a lover in every sweat drenched detail than anything else. Fuck knows how many people have had sex with this song playing, but I can assure you that none of them are complaining.

Queens of the Stone Age – Make It Wit Chu

On the prowl

While the Queens have always been great with rockers, they’re a lot more adept with the slow jam style than one might think. They show quite a seductive groove here, with slow, bluesy hard rock backing Josh Homme’s low croon, detailing the rather few things he’s interested in at the moment. With how direct the lyrics are, regardless of how calm and cool Homme’s singing is, you can’t help but imagine that he’s moments away from tossing his guitar aside and assaulting the next woman he sees.

A Perfect Circle – Thinking of You

Ah, things hanging out of Paz's pants <3

With all the popular songs about female masturbation, it’s always nice to stumble upon a male equivalent (a well-written one, at least). The lyrics feel as if they could be vague if it wasn’t for Maynard James Keenan’s breathy delivery, which makes the words feel far more graphic than they really are. Then there’s the music; that sharp bass, aggressive percussion, and pumping break that can’t help but make one envision-..um… pumping gas.

Janet Jackson – If

Oh shit my hair

Speaking of female masturbation… while it’s a popular enough topic in song, Janet Jackson tackled it quite well here. This whole album, really, was the peak of her artistic embracing of sexuality before it got to be a bit over the top (and of course this is long before the infamous wardrobe malfunction with which she’s become sadly synonymous); I remember the video for Any Time, Any Place being a distinct hallmark in my sexual awakening as a pre-teen. In any case, If is so blunt with its raw lust, and that chorus leaves no doubt as to what she was on about.

Pulp – This Is Hardcore

Shut up, we TOTALLY look sexy

This is probably one of the most appropriately titled songs ever written. While the fantasy Jarvis Cocker describes in the song is quite vivid unto itself, the music provides perfect accompaniment – the crawling, throbbing build-up, the pounding, crashing climax, and how everything slowly and almost tragically fades away in the end.

Soft Cell – Sex Dwarf

What? Don't kids still wear this?

Probably the earliest song to give such an unabashed portrayal of S&M debauchery (not to mention that it beats Depeche Mode’s Master and Servant by a country mile with how well it captures this). Everything is so over the top, with the dark brooding music, the whips and moans, and of course the lyrics, which are lewd to such excess that they can be hysterically funny just as easily as alluring. It’s aged remarkably well too; nearly thirty years on it remains a staple in industrial and goth clubs.

Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds – Hard On for Love

What the hell was up there before?

Nick Cave has never been a stranger to writing about lust, but this song positively drips with a lust so foul that it borders on frightening. There aren’t many lyricists who could use religious imagery this abundant for this kind of subject matter, especially the kind of violent sexual aching expressed here, but it’s all-too-familiar for Cave. He brings such intensity to these vocals (just listen to him shout “Just when I’m about to get my hands on her” near the end!), as do the Bad Seeds with their respective instruments; in their early days, they were spectacular at descending into chaos, and Hard On for Love is no exception.

Burial – Archangel

I still like to pretend that he's anonymous

Lust’s more subdued, tortured side – Burial brilliantly takes samples from Ray J’s One Wish to turn a cheesy R&B break-up song’s vocal pattern into this agonizing articulation of longing. Playing against this is a Metal Gear Solid 2 sample (!) that sounds downright ghostly, and makes the track sound even more harrowing, and with all the manipulation the vocal sample receives, it’s easy to picture the singer drowning in his own desire. The whole of Untrue is infamous for its looming atmosphere, and this is one of its best moments.

If there is one thing I have learned from my many late, drunken nights in karaoke bars, it is this: no karaoke bar in this country will EVER have a night in which Alanis Morissette’s You Oughtta Know will not be sung (Carrie Underwood’s Before He Cheats seems to be reaching this status as well, sadly). Now don’t get me wrong, I can certainly see why. While the song irritates me to no end, I have to begrudgingly admit that it is not just a 90s staple, but an admirably enduring breakup anthem. However, every time I hear someone butcher this song, I can’t help but wonder why there aren’t several other angry songs from the female view that are so cherished. Obviously I’m hardly an expert on the matter, but I thought it as good as anything to dedicate this week’s list to. As I’m sure there is much I am leaving out, please feel free to add your own suggestions. And with that, let’s get started.

Tori Amos – The Waitress

Hand bone connected to the keyboard connected to the google connected to the government

If there’s a more gloriously catty line than “I believe in peace, bitch,” I am yet to hear it. The verses detail an unreasonable hatred for a coworker, which I’m sure we’ve all had in some shape or form. Why do I hate this person so much? It’s just some douchebag, they don’t matter… but FUCK, they piss me off! The matter-of-fact “So I want to kill this waitress” starts things out perfectly, and that whip sounding noise in the background certainly doesn’t hurt things either.

Poe – Angry Johnny

mumblemumblemumblescream

This sadly forgotten 90s gem feels like a detailed revenge fantasy gone awry, but delivered with a cleverly sexual guise (the pause after “I want to blow you” and before “away” being a prime example). By the time the bridge hits though, and Anne Danielewski is taunting “where’s your pleasure now, Johnny,” the song starts to feel downright unsettling, and quite a bit more becomes open for interpretation than you might have cared for.

L7 – Shitlist

Oh my god this is so 90s

On a list like this, there’s no way a band with a tampon story this infamous could be neglected. Probably the perfect choice for the moment in Natural Born Killers where it pops up, Shitlist is classic L7; sleazy, pissed off, and able to express all of it with a simple snarl. Still, the best part is when Donita Sparks loses her cool around the minute and a half mark and screams out the second verse, only to slip back into that (somewhat) calm demeanor for the rest of the song.

Elastica – Stutter

They were talking shit about your hair Justine

Taken literally, Stutter is about irritation over a boyfriend’s impotence. With the passion that Justine Frischmann delivers in this incredibly catchy slice of britpop though, it feels like more of a metaphor for a failing relationship. It’s remarkable too, how clearly frustrated she sounds, and yet how bright and poppy she is as she gets her point across. Yet another example of a great band undeservedly damned to one hit wonder status.

Ladytron – Ghosts

A wed wose... how womantic

No, not really angry in the traditional sense, but there’s something to be said for a band that can sound so dreamy and so snarky at the same time. With as pretty and soothing as Helen Marnie’s vocals are, you can still picture her sneering as she sings “clock strikes and I know you will be drinking alone” or the rather harsh conclusion to the chorus, “doesn’t mean I’m sorry.”

PJ Harvey – Rub ’til It Bleeds

Insert generic 'all business' joke here, I guess

I’ve heard this song called “Handjob of Death” more than a few times, and it’s a difficult alternate title to dispute. There is such wonderfully brutal teasing in this song’s lyrics, as she goes from sweetly crooning “Baby, I’m your sweet thing” to viciously shouting “I’m calling you weak.” The music has that sexy, rough-around-the-edges blues sound to it, and when it builds up and explodes at the end, it’s almost as if it’s simulating.. well, you see where I’m going with this.

Snake River Conspiracy – Vulcan

Yeah we did her hair, what of it

Vocalist Tobey Torres is startlingly intimidating on this song. She starts the song with a resounding “FUCK!!”, and her seething roars are only delivered with more authority as the song continues. The way she screams “you fucking faggot” actually puts me into this odd state where I honestly can’t tell if I’m frightened or turned on. It’s not even the commanding vocals really, but the charisma behind them. As she asserts herself all throughout, you’d believe her even if it was just expressed with mere whispers. Plus the music is just so crushing; it’s hard to believe that a key role in the band is held by none other than Third Eye Blind’s Jason Slater.

Tracy Bonham – Mother Mother

I can almost hear the gruffy narration

Delving yet again into 1990s alternative. What really clinches this song for me, even more than those intense choruses that are frankly impossible to not get behind, is how personal yet relatable it is. It really captures lashing out against a strained relationship with a parent almost as well as the disillusionment that can sometimes follow striking out on one’s own.

Nikka Costa – Hope It Felt Good

She looks like a snorter

Nikka Costa’s biggest song is easily Everybody Got Their Something, which isn’t so much a hit as it is one of those songs that most people know but don’t realize it. Why she never achieved widespread fame has always baffled me; her voice is incredible, her lyrical subject matter is diverse, and the neo-soul sound backing her is fantastic. In an alternate universe somewhere, Hope It Felt Good became the smash hit it truly deserved to be. She absolutely rages over a sharp 70s funk beat, singing with a fire reminiscent of Janis Joplin. As far as jilted ex songs go, this isn’t an easy one to beat.

Bjork – Declare Independence

Damn this pic is old

God, what a great song. The synth alone sounds pissed off; it’s so heavily distorted and dirty sounding, and while Volta certainly isn’t her best album, this could well be the most sinister and brooding song she’s ever done. The pounding beat and crashing cymbals get so intense as the song progresses, but this is nothing compared to Bjork herself – you can practically hear her gnashing her teeth before she breaks into that blood curdling scream at the end. The best thing though, has to be the lyrics; written for (and dedicated in concert many times over to) various oppressed nations, they’re also just vague enough to be applicable to anything from an overly advantageous workplace to an abusive spouse. An easy track to leave on repeat.

Oasis doesn’t need an elaborate introduction. The British lads basically had the world by the bollocks since around 1994. You don’t need me to describe Liam and Noel Gallagher, the feisty brothers who made up the core of the band, with Liam on vocals and tambourine duties and Noel as the principal songwriter and occasional singer. They swore, they fought (each other), they drank, and they created some blissful BritPop music that paid more than a casual homage to their heroes in the Beatles and the Stone Roses.

The band, who broke up in 2009 with a climactic backstage brother brawl before a show in Paris, just released a definitive boxed set entitled Time Flies…1994-2009, which contains every one of their UK-released singles, from 1994’s Supersonic all the way up to 2009’s Falling Down.

Missing from this set is Champagne Supernova, arguably one of the band’s best songs, and one of the handful that caused a stir in the United States. It wasn’t technically a UK single, so it isn’t included in this set. I ordered the US version on Amazon, which is supposed to contain the song, but received the normal UK version. Oh well.

The twenty-eight songs on this two-disc set contain some of the best BritPop music to have ever been laid down in a studio.

That sun is hot, innit

The collection starts out with Supersonic, the band’s debut single, off of 1994’s timeless Definitely Maybe, and Roll With It, off of (What’s the Story) Morning Glory?, the band’s 1995 album that launched them to super popular stadium band territory.

Everyone knows Liam & Noel are, well, supremely quotable blokes. Noel rose in infamy making outlandish, extremely self-aggrandizing statements about his band’s importance and has tended to come off as a bit of a prick over the years, honestly. Liam is even more antagonistic, with his “I don’t give a toss” personality and a palpable sense of self-importance that is not unlike that of his brother. While their combative personalities turned some people off of the band, it was something that drew me to them, as their outright “Britishness” struck me as magnetizing. That, and Morning Glory was my first-ever CD album that I purchased, so there’s also that.

The fact of the matter is, though, that they’re responsible for the BritPop movement that emerged in the wake of Kurt Cobain’s suicide in 1994. It went on for a while in the UK before we paid attention here in the States, but you just can’t deny the impact of songs like the classic Wonderwall, the hopefulness of Live Forever, the moving Don’t Look Back in Anger, the bloated but memorable D’You Know What I Mean?, and the rest of the songs on this set.

Every album the band released is showcased here, of course, from Definitely Maybe through 2008’s underappreciated Dig Out Your Soul, which serves as a fine cap on their prolific career.

Oasis weren’t a band for everyone. While we in the States only seemed to care up through Wonderwall and Champagne Supernova, amused by their adoration for the Beatles and their larger-than-life charisma, I remained a fan for the rest of the band’s career. I’ve been lucky enough to see them two times, at a half-empty Shoreline Ampitheatre in Mountain View, CA in 2005 and then at Oracle Arena in Oakland in late 2008. The fact that they might actually be finished for good is sad to think about, as I’ve enjoyed most of their catalog, even 1997’s Be Here Now, the follow-up to Morning Glory that was, as Noel has put it, the result of “four guys on drugs in the studio, not giving a fuck”. Still, it’s hardly shocking that we’ve reached the end of the band, given the number of times Liam & Noel have had verbal (and physical) spats.

This package is even more impressive considering that Disc 3 is a DVD with ALL of Oasis’s music videos over the years. I love things like that, and it makes this already amazing collection even better. Disc 4 is a live set from the Roundhouse in London in July 2009, weeks before Noel quit the band once and for all.

So to recap, you have two discs of 28 of Oasis’s biggest singles, then a DVD with all the videos, and a live set thrown in for kicks. The booklet is nice too, filled with quotes from fans and Liam & Noel themselves about songs and fans’ attachment to the band. The “box” itself is a really slick clamshell-type thing that, when opened, is a picture of a huge crowd from a densely-populated Oasis gig. This whole collection is extremely satisfying, and it’s a great way to go out as a band.

In closing, I was sad to hear that Oasis was no more. When Noel got in a fight with Liam and called it quits, a big part of my musical upbringing went by the wayside. Thankfully, this collection exists for me and other fans to always remember the band and their legacy.

I don’t care if you always hated Oasis, Liam, Noel, BritPop, England, brothers, buzzy guitars, hype, accents, or anything affiliated with that. BritPop was an important musical movement, and Oasis was a big part of it.

Time Flies…1994-2009 is a fitting au revoir for a band that was bigger than its peers, a band that often encompassed working-class longing in its lyrics while retaining a sense of melody and style that didn’t betray its members’ outright swagger and enthusiasm. Noel, Liam, and the revolving door of bassists and drummers may have closed the book on their musical career, but their songs will live forever.

The Bravery have never exactly been critics’ darlings. After the breakout success of their single An Honest Mistake back in 2005, they were panned as new wave revival by the numbers, with a singer who couldn’t decide if he wanted to emulate Robert Smith, Simon Le Bon, or Morrissey. While these criticisms may have been true, they missed the point entirely; The Bravery’s self titled debut was never intended to be the next Pet Sounds, it was just a fun, synth pop record. After all, it’s hard to deny how entertaining the first half of that record is; each song is about as well crafted as any other new new wave one put out in this decade.

Tweet tweet hey a neon sign tweet

Then on their sophomore release, The Sun and the Moon, Sam Endicott and company did away with most of their best qualities in favor of a more mellow, britpop laced set. That they were trying something different was certainly commendable, but the result held no real charisma, and it was basically passable though forgettable pop. This time around, with their third album, Stir the Blood, The Bravery have not so much returned to their roots as taken a new approach that works. Much like Ladytron did on their third album, the direction here is more goth inspired and post-punk sounding, and the lyrics hint at a messy breakup. While the songwriting here isn’t nearly as good as that on Witching Hour, it’s still much better than it’s predecessor, and easily on par with the debut.

Adored starts things out with a brooding verse and a chorus that tries a bit too hard to soar, but it works all the same. What really sets the mood is Song for Jacob, with its wild synths and pressing bass line. Endicott’s vocals are a smidge reliant on a strangely gothic sounding snarl, but he truly convinces as he shouts, “There’s more inside of me than skin and bones” in the chorus. The midtempo lead single Slow Poison (which preceded Stir the Blood by about a month and a half) keeps the momentum going, but ultimately serves as the calm before the storm of Hatefuck. The anger bang accolade’s shrieking keyboards quickly give way to the relentless beat, and Endicott croons angrily about.. well, the imagery isn’t exactly difficult to imagine. The song startles in the middle with a detailed guitar solo akin to that in The Faint’s The Conductor, and  it wraps up nicely in under three minutes, as unexpectedly as it began. Frankly, with the exception of the title, it would’ve been an even better lead single; it’s a solid, catchy, and aggressive tune, as well as highly representative of the album’s sound.

Oooh we'ze all spooky n' shit

The almost equally suggestive She’s So Bendable (noone with a dirty mind is going to take this metaphorically at first glance) has a great laid back feel, without coming across as a labored attempt to sound like a single (as the preceding I Am Your Skin does), similarly to the ensuing The Spectator, which is carried largely by Mike Hindert’s great, understated bass playing. He is also largely responsible for the fantastic groove that Red Hands and White Knuckles has, which keyboardist John Conway expertly layers over with an almost distorted harpischord sounding melody, blinking synths, and a soft harmonization.  Jack-O’-Lantern Man is quite possibly the strongest song here, despite a more than passing resemblance to their 2005 hit Unconditional. Along with Hatefuck, it fits in with the rest of the album’s more reserved groove while injecting a massive dose of energy at just the right point. Stir the Blood closes with Sugarpill, a very Interpol/latter day Ladytron sounding track on which the band backs Endicott’s moping with a fittingly moody atmosphere that almost steals the show.

While it’s true that The Bravery aren’t afraid to wear their influences on their sleeve, this doesn’t take away from the fact that they (lead songwriter Sam Endicott, namely) are quite capable of writing great alternative dance music. Stir the Blood proves that when they play to their strengths, The Bravery can put out some truly solid stuff.