Dinosaur Pile-Up
City Screen Basement
Imagine the worst gig you have ever been to. Chances are it was a shambolic event, maybe a PA broke or the singer stormed off. These are pretty standard grievances which go hand in hand with the clichés and pitfalls of rock ‘n roll, but my main gripe will always remain the middle of the road.
Dinosaur Pile-Up are a fairly interesting new band, dark basslines and crunching guitars mixed with enough shoutalong choruses to peacefully blend mass-appeal and blogger’s delight. Couple this with a tiny, intimate venue and enough hype to pack it to the rafters and it seems the scene is set for a myth inducing event soon to be the parable of the word on the grubby street. But, unfortunately everything runs smoothly. Too smoothly.Following a slew of dire indie-by-the-numbers support bands DPU take to the humid stage surrounded entirely in a pincer movement of hungry punters. Despite their rapidly increasing repertoire of anthemic gems every track seems to slide easily into the next with the minimum of banter or elation, the non-plussed crowd never really entering the spirit. Take nothing away from Dinosaur Pile-Up’s musicianship, every song is played expertly and with a minimum of fuss but by busting out easily their best track (the fantastic ‘Love is a boat & we’re sinking) in the opening ten minutes they crash the nail directly into their own coffin. Even drunken students wandering the stage and thrusting behind band members cannot bring excitement to what is a very disappointing and dull gig.
Showing posts with label York. Show all posts
Showing posts with label York. Show all posts
Sunday, 15 March 2009
Monday, 26 January 2009
Grammatics (2009)
Grammatics
Self-Titled (2009)
High quality production has many negative connotations within the music community – covering up weak tracks, selling out, major labels, emotionless chart ambition etc. etc, etc. Based on this it seems many bands rely on lo-fi sensibilities to create an idea of authenticity. Sweeping aside this theory are the soaring Leeds/York youngsters Grammatics. Tipped for success for nigh on two years now, the wait for an album seems like an eternity, but the quest for perfection is a time-consuming art and for once solid production only enhances the sheer intricate delights of these twelve tracks of pure epic perfection.
Grammatics are as distant a foray as possible from their former incarnation as mid-2000s Kerrang! also-rans Colour of Fire, ditching the power chords and shoutalong choruses for majestic soaring epics and beautiful heart-wrenching melodies. Although much of the material on the album has previously been released via countless singles and EPs the album is brilliantly cohesive and creates a true atmosphere of its own, switching between despairing hymns and hopeful major key masterpieces extraordinarily.
The true splendour of this album lies in its total lack of any real contempory comparison, a unique and near orchestral delight. A world has been created within sixty minutes closer to Beethoven or Bach than any of the overused indie-rock influences such as My Bloody Valentine or Joy Division.
All twelve tracks are lyrically poetic and imaginative, if a little self-important at times, cramming in detailed psychological insights in a Conor Oberst-esque falsetto. Indeed, the lyrical musings show an impressive knack for exploration matched only in ambition by the music itself. Broken Wing proves to be a particular highlight with a stirring build-up and immense collapsing finale. The art of accumulating to an enormous climax is perfected on Relentless Fours, with its thudding bass drum and repetitive guitar line and quiver inducing, knowingly wistful hook “Everyone loves a breakdown”.
Despite every pretentious pitfall faced by the statement it is certainly very difficult to refrain from labelling this album a real masterpiece.
Self-Titled (2009)
High quality production has many negative connotations within the music community – covering up weak tracks, selling out, major labels, emotionless chart ambition etc. etc, etc. Based on this it seems many bands rely on lo-fi sensibilities to create an idea of authenticity. Sweeping aside this theory are the soaring Leeds/York youngsters Grammatics. Tipped for success for nigh on two years now, the wait for an album seems like an eternity, but the quest for perfection is a time-consuming art and for once solid production only enhances the sheer intricate delights of these twelve tracks of pure epic perfection.
Grammatics are as distant a foray as possible from their former incarnation as mid-2000s Kerrang! also-rans Colour of Fire, ditching the power chords and shoutalong choruses for majestic soaring epics and beautiful heart-wrenching melodies. Although much of the material on the album has previously been released via countless singles and EPs the album is brilliantly cohesive and creates a true atmosphere of its own, switching between despairing hymns and hopeful major key masterpieces extraordinarily.
The true splendour of this album lies in its total lack of any real contempory comparison, a unique and near orchestral delight. A world has been created within sixty minutes closer to Beethoven or Bach than any of the overused indie-rock influences such as My Bloody Valentine or Joy Division.
All twelve tracks are lyrically poetic and imaginative, if a little self-important at times, cramming in detailed psychological insights in a Conor Oberst-esque falsetto. Indeed, the lyrical musings show an impressive knack for exploration matched only in ambition by the music itself. Broken Wing proves to be a particular highlight with a stirring build-up and immense collapsing finale. The art of accumulating to an enormous climax is perfected on Relentless Fours, with its thudding bass drum and repetitive guitar line and quiver inducing, knowingly wistful hook “Everyone loves a breakdown”.
Despite every pretentious pitfall faced by the statement it is certainly very difficult to refrain from labelling this album a real masterpiece.
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