DEPARTMENTS: WORDS by JON MONSOON (JM), Yusuf Laher (YL), WORDY ROCK GUY (WRG), Jezebel (JZ)
CD REVIEWS Kidofdoom
My Faith in War www.kidofdoom.co.za
Muse
The Resistance www.muse.mu
In spite of frontman Matthew Bellamy’s mistrusting Orwellian stance and his distaste for planet earth amid a theme of climactic disillusionment, he hasn’t given up hope just yet. “Love is our resistance,” he imparts in track two of the Devonian trio’s fifth studio album that – for Muse – starts off unexpectedly light and centred. ‘Undisclosed Desires’ is the most un-Muse-like song on the album, channelling Depeche Mode and trading drums and guitar for synths and programming. The monumental ‘United States of Eurasia’ is an over-the-top blend of Queen, the Middle East and European classical music, exemplifying Bellamy’s take on war and corruption. His rearrangements of Chopin’s Nocturne in E flat major, Op. 9 and Camille Saint-Saëns’s aria ‘Mon Cœur s’Ouvre à Ta Voix’ and the weighty tripletrack symphony of ‘Exogenesis’ show off Bellamy’s spacey, eccentric genius. The Resistance is overblown and theatrical, and decidedly one of Muse’s most focussed and deliberate albums to date. (YL)
Armed with a selection of new gizmos and sonic reinforcements, kidofdoom have taken “deep space champion pop” into Dimension X. On MFIW, the Pretorian instru-mentalists have popped a handful of red pills (each) and dropped so far down the rabbit hole that they may never return. Described as a “60-minute soundscape of the band’s interpretation of the apocalypse and the hope of life thereafter,” kidofdoom’s second full-length is difficult to digest at first, but later on it all starts to make sense. The weighty atmospherics and dark moods sink in, the spaces open up, and things become a bit more playful. Kidofdoom have expanded their universe. The songs are epic, darker and more developed. And, as always, hard-hitting drummer Johan Auriacombe is the lynchpin. Despite its many layers, collaborators and the mixed recording and production process, MFIW is a surprisingly cohesive voyage of (deep space) discovery. (YL)
Manchester Orchestra
Mean Everything to Nothing www.themanchesterorchestra.com
BLK JKS
After Robots www.blkjks.com
After Robots’ sublime mix of contained calamity and textured mellowness redefines our understanding of roots-inspired rock fusion. Its embrace of diversity and insistence on synergy also makes this album the creative embodiment of our national constitution. It’s a melodic merger – blending generations of genres and layering indigenous effects. Everyone is having fun calling BLK JKS the ‘ambassadors of the future sound of Africa’, but theirs seems a much wider worldview, one that moves to the beat of the old, the new and the unknown, and instils its own exodus within every song. Expect dreamy, almost androgynous vocals, tetchy guitar, swirls of piano and intelligently syncopated, integrated percussion. Give it a chance, and the four guys who founded its unchristened sound will decorate your summer sky singing in tongues. If you don’t ‘get’ this album the first time round, take your time; it’s worth getting to know. (JZ) 100
one small seed
There’s an awkwardness about Manchester Orchestra that sticks to the roof of your brain. The kind of quivering, forcedto-scream-about-it indie rock realism that’s impossible to fake; think Sounds Like Violence, Fake Problems and a shyer, nerdier-sounding Jack White. Buried beneath their snarling, snot-nosed Southern twang lurks an elegant, atmospheric sophistication. It’s an intoxicating combination: raw and refined. In short, Atlanta, Georgia’s Manchester Orchestra are genuine art fags. Indie rockers without all the disco hihats and ’wah-ow-uh-ows’. Mean Everything to Nothing, their second official full-length, straddles the line between contained (in the garage) Eels and Weezer lullabies from suburbia and all-out, window-shattering Nirvana-esque rock. And vocalist Andy Hull’s son-of-a-preacher-man inner turmoil with faith and a Christian upbringing adds even more delicious angst to the brew. It’s sentimental and emotional, but it’s uncontained, unafraid to wail and unconcerned with cardboard box radio singles. (YL)