Dean Van Nguyen

» The Revolution Will Not Be Motorised

My article about the Dublin Bikes scheme that appeared in the November issue of The Dubliner is now available via their website.

November 24, 2009, 10:14pm  Comments

With his career reaching the three decade mark, it would have been unsurprising if Nick Cave entered a kind of semi-retired phase of his career, like so many long-standing rock-stars before him. But Cave has never been the kind of artist you could describe as “predictable”. Whether it was the departure of guitarist Blixa Bargeld from his band The Bad Seeds, the disappointment of his patchy previous effort Nocturum or simply a mid life crisis with his 50th birthday being on the horizon, the mid noughties proved to be somewhat of a creative purple patch in his career. Cave penned movie scripts, and wrote the score for the the finished product. As the front-man of new band Grinderman he frustratingly snarled about having the “no pussy blues”. And with his loyal Bad Seeds, he re-found his mojo.

It was Abattoir Blues/The Lyre of Orpheus, the thirteenth album under the Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds banner that kicked started the overflow of creativity. Before the film scores his music still rang with a cinematic quality. Atmospheric, laced with colourful character’s, and with the dusty, near-mythological feeling of a good western. An ambitious double album, it finally gave Cave the space and scope his music has cried out for. Nothing has sparked more debate in the history of rock than a double album. They are as likely to be praised as an artist’s creative peak as a overlong vanity project, but nobody ever questions Cave’s decision to stretch his epic over two discs. Equal part gospel and grunge, and covering Cave’s favourite subject matter: religion, death, sex, the apocalypse! All were on Cave’s mind, and he brought ambitious arrangements to underline them.

With two discs to play with Cave may have had space in abundance, but opener ‘Get Ready For Love’ wastes no time getting started. A short drum beat is enough of an intro for Cave’s whaling vocals. “Get ready for love”, he energetically warns. By his second line, the large choir is already backing him up. The guitars too are cranked up to the max, almost as a necessity so as not to get drowned out. Cave himself becomes a kind of travelling preaching urging his followers to praise who he has discovered to be the one true God. ”I searched the seven seas and I’ve looked under the carpet. And browsed through the brochures that govern the skies. Then I was just hanging around, doing nothing und looked up to see his face burned in the retina of your eyes.” It’s a wonderful opener to Abattoir Blues which is the raunchier, more manic and overall louder affair of the two discs. On ‘Hiding All The Way’ for example the guitars are tuned so deep and dirty they could substitute for the base. The song aggressively builds so that Cave’s call of “there is a war coming” sounds more like a rallying battle cry than a warning. Best of all is ‘There She Goes My Beautiful World’. With it’s lack of a noticeable melody, it’s certainly not an obvious choice for a single, but Cave’s sheer energy, quality of vocal delivery, and an impressive wall of soundfrom the band make it absolute classic. Also noteworthy is ‘Let The Bells Ring’, a touching ode to Johnny Cash, who Cave collaborated with towards the end of his life.

The Lyre of Orpheus isn’t studded with as many five star classics, but it’s still a fine collection of quieter Cave ballads in the vein of The Boatman’s Call. But despite this the song’s DNA doesn’t change. The choirs are still present, as is the grungy guitar riffs, suggesting that even had both discs been united and the track-listing been shuffled, it still would have worked as a single cohesive work. The best songs bookend Orpheus. Cave’s poetic storytelling style is brilliantly displayed on the title track, the anguish underlined by his desperate vocal “oh momma” hook and slippery, out of tune guitar riff. Closer ‘O Children’ is an epic anthem in both scope and delivery. “Oh Children. Lift up your voice” the choir asks with such sweet harmonies, while Cave acts as choir leader. There’s also ‘Babe, You Turn Me On’, that musically draws inspirations from traditional folk, but lyrically veers closer to a sexed up Jodeci freak-out (“I put one hand on your round ripe heart / And the other down your panties”.)

Taken together or apart Abattoir Blues/The Lyre of Orpheusis a fine artistic statement, where Cave himself plays the beaten warrior as vividly as one of his movie characters that often have similar traits -  a flawed sinner looking for redemption. Indeed, this mirrors the album as a whole. It’s as approachable as it is mysterious, much like the man himself.

November 21, 2009, 7:24pm   Comments

fuckyeahbornruffians:

Luke playing a potential cut from the sophomore LP! Well, almost..
Born Ruffians - Oh Man (acoustic, live 11/12 in Bellwoods)

 New song from my new favourite band.

November 13, 2009, 3:27pm  Comments

Last week I asked my friends and followers on Facebook and Tumblr what their favourite new song is. I got a nice mixed bag of responses, everything from fist-clenching stadium rock to 8 bit blips and morally questionable hip hop. Here’s fifteen of the best, lovingly compiled for you to assemble as an itunes playlist. Or if your like me, burn onto a CD just for the retro charm of the act. I’ve bracketed who suggested what so you can fight amongst yourselves. As for myself I’m not judging anyone’s suggestion. Apart from Callo, who really tried to stretch the boundaries of “new song” by going with ‘Everybody Wants to Rule The World’ by Tears for Fears. Thanks anyway man.

01: Local Natives - ‘World News’ (Muireann)
02: Air - ‘Sing Sang Sung’ (Doggett)
03: Major Lazer feat. VYBZ Kartel - ‘Pon De Floor’ (Lorraine)
04: Shakira - ‘She Wolf’ (aceterrier)
05: EvilWezil - ‘Veridis Quo’ (Mero)
06: Muse - ‘Uprising’ (Kelly Byrne)
07: Owl City - ‘Fireflies’ (Sarah Davies)
08: Music Go Music - ‘Warm in the Shadows’ (Neil Brennan)
09: Placebo - ‘Battle for the Sun’ (Silver)
10: Phuse - ‘Shadowboxing’ (Graham)
11: Kid Cudi feat. Kanye West & Common - ‘Make Her Say’ (Michelle Howard)
12: The Big Pink - ‘Dominoes’ (Tom)
13: Biffy Clyro - ‘Born on a Horse’ (Ben)
14: This Will Destroy You - ‘A Three Legged Workhorse’ (Bones)
15: Florence & The Machine - ‘You’ve Got The Love’ (Sarah Lowry)

November 13, 2009, 12:44am   Comments

Thus far 21st century pop has tangled itself into such a weave by scurrying in so many different directions it’s hard to imagine what future analysts will take to be the sound of the decade. A quick scan over the list of UK #1 singles reveals a rather grey pallet of reality TV created acts, cheaply produced novelty records, and interchangeable R&B singers. Some very good songs, I won’t deny, but very little you could describe as truly sounding like it belonged it this decade and this decade alone.

If anything, the noughties might be better remembered as the time when the singles charts finally lost all meaning. Even the once coveted Christmas #1 spot has been dangled as a sort of prize for the winner of the latest reality TV show five of the last seven years. It’s sad to me because unlike most nowadays, I actually care what’s in the charts, even if I would never listen to 90% of it. Because the noughties was my decade, and pop music leaks into pop culture. We all gawk at our elders who actually had first hand experience of pop movements and milestones, even if they didn’t know the significance of it at the time. My generation however, well, who is going to care where you were in life when ‘Fuck It (I Don’t Want You Back) by Eamon was in the charts?

But look, there’s Gnarls Barkley’s ‘Crazy’ on the list, which spent nine weeks at #1, an achievement only bettered in the noughties by Rhianna’s juggernaut ‘Umbrella’ which clocked an impressive ten weeks at the top. It’s damn near impossible to nail on the head what makes ‘Crazy’ so great. A quick deconstruction reveals a spooky spaghetti western sample, a tidily plucked bass and simple drum loop. But oh, Cee-Lo’s vocal! Apparently recorded in one take, something I’m inclined to believe with the sheer immediacy of it. Even his spooky “ooh’s” towards the end sounds improvised. Somewhat cobbled together, yet still oozing with pure imagination and retro charm.

Gnarls Barkely were actually everything I wanted in a 21st century pop act. Nothing about them screamed marketabily. One tall and lanky, the other short and tubby, and both with a affinity for dressing up like characters from their favourite movies on stage. Even their name, some sort of twist of NBA basketball player turned pundit Charles Barkley seemed bizarre. But this commercial sabotage just seemed to underline, that they made some of the most outrageously good pop music around.

The taller one was DJ Dangermouse, the man behind the imaginative albeit not that great Beatles/Jay-Z mash-up The Grey Album, though he fared much better when gifting The Gorrillaz with the beat that made ‘Feel Good Inc’ such a five star classic. Dangermouse seemed such a product of pop culture that he carried around a thousand films, albums and other references around with him, a few couldn’t help fall into the swirlafier with his own genius. His first stab at post Grey Album success (which itself embedded itself into popular culture by going a long way to creating “the mash up”) was as Dangerdoom, a collaboration with rapper MF Doom that spawned their The Mouse and the Mask release which was a concept album based on Comedy Central’s Adult Swim. The other half was Cee-Lo Green, the self proclaimed “soul machine” who up until that point was more interested in Southern fried rap than soul. His Cee-Lo Green…is the soul machine album was a wonderful fun-box of Outkast-like genre hopping hip hop, but he rapped more than he sang. There was certainly nothing there that suggested that this was Al Green’s successor, even if he did call a track ‘Let’s Stay Together’.

Reservations I had about either were instantly dismissed upon the first listen of ‘Crazy’. I mean talk about a match made in heaven! It’s parent album St. Elsewherenever really stood a chance, not with such a monster hit elbowing every other track. But a fine pop album it was, an erratic, sometimes psychedelic sprint (10 of the 14 tracks were under 3 minutes) through various genres including powerful soul (‘St. Elsewhere’), chirpy pop (‘Smiley Faces’) and well thought out covers (Violent Femme’s ‘Gone Daddy Gone’).

The Odd Couple sounded more like a fully fleshed out Gnarls Barkley album. No song reached four minutes, but the more skittish tracks that made St. Elsewherefeel a little rushed were no longer present. And like ‘Crazy’ and all their high points, the sixties were all over it. Dangermouse collected a series of dusty samples, and put his own spin on them, working within the classic pop ethos.

And as for singles, well they were still there, though few pop acts would have the audacity to put ‘Who’s Gonne Save My Soul’, Cee-lo’s heartfelt ode to the late James Brown, out as a stand alone release. Elsewhere, I’m still surprised ‘Run (I’m A Natural Disaster)’ wasn’t a mega hit. An energetic number in which Cee-lo becomes a gospel crooner. Instead of actually “peaking”, the song instead flies out of the traps, and never lets up. Dangermouse continued to prove he could coax the best vocals out of his other half, and the gospel theme runs throughout The Odd Couple to great affect. The church organ and energetic hand claps providing a solid base on ‘Going On’.

The surprises keep on coming, particularly through the album’s second half. On ‘Whatever’ Cee-lo’s inhabits a brat-ish, adolescent persona, snarling his delivery of lines like “I don’t have anything to say. I want everything to go my way. Shut up mom! It is not okay. I’m alone almost every day.” Though his tongue is firmly in his cheek, there’s something painfully accurate about it. At the other end of the spectrum is ‘No Time Soon’ which opening rides on an acoustic guitar and an almost operatic vocal, before an shuffling beat rides in. These two tracks alone have more imagination crammed in than your average pop album. Best of all though is ‘She Knows’, a lush and truly gorgeous, psychedelic love song.

Gnarls Barkley’s five star run may not have resulted in as many hit singles as I would have liked, but importantly, they proved there was a place in the noughties pop scene for innovation, originality and proper talent. You would have to be crazy not to see that.

November 12, 2009, 5:36pm   Comments

These films reviews appear in the November issue of The Dubliner.

Fantastic Mr. Fox
(3/5)
Animaniacs

Director Wes Anderson’s eccentric take on Roald Dahl’s classic children’s novel is brought to life using good old-fashioned stop motion animation. Mr Fox (voiced by George Clooney - big month for him) was once a daring chicken thief before family life forced him into retirement. But the temptation to raid three farms close to his new home proves too much for him to resist.

When farmers Boggis, Bunce and Bean (“one fat, one short, one lean”) discover that Mr Fox has been stealing from them, they go on an all-out offensive, disrupting the local animal kingdom in the process. Just as Mr Fox can’t repress his desire to steal chickens, Anderson can’t help reviving the themes that run throughout his previous work, most notably the breakdown of the family unit. Trust him to want to explore what being a chicken thief does to a fox’s marriage (“I love you, but I shouldn’t have married you,” sighs Mrs Fox).

Plenty of Anderson’s acting posse return - including Bill Murray, Jason Schwartzman and Owen Wilson - helping to inject the film with a quirky wit. But this humour will more likely appeal to adults, so beware the film’s colourful ad campaign. It’s possible kids won’t find anything to enjoy about Fantastic Mr. Fox, and some may be left squirming in their seats. Parents, we advise leaving them with a babysitter, so as not to miss a second of this charming film. Out now

Law Abiding Citizen
(2/5)
Citizen Pain

Gerard Butler (ripped!) gains revenge on those involved in the farcical trial of the men who killed his family. The twist is, he is seemingly doing so from inside a prison cell. How could this be possible? Law Abiding Citizen is one of those thrillers that spends most of its time distracting the audience from the plot with explosions, to delay revealing the twist. But the payoff is such a letdown you’ll wish they had filled the running time with more scenes of what the film does best: imaginative violence and verbal sparring between it’s lead characters. Out November 27th

Nativity
(1/5)
Christmess

Following a group of misfit kids and their equally inept teacher sounds like a solid premise for a festive flick for all the family, but Nativity still manages to crack jokes about mental illness and women in labour. When it’s not offending it’s audience, the film’s bludgeoning them with endless scenes of characters singing when they can’t sing, or dancing when they can’t dance. I recognised a few of the kids from Britain’s Got Talent, and they do a pretty good job. They’re just let down by clueless adults who couldn’t gift them a better film to showcase their abilities. Out November 27th

November 11, 2009, 4:12pm   Comments

20up! Whether you’ve been following from the start or not, now could be a good time to lend your own voice. Are these choices bonkers? Are my reasons nonsense, or am I, as I believe, the sole source of good taste on the internet? I want to see your comments!

An Introduction

#100 ‘Idlewild’ by Outkast (2006)
#99 ‘The Weight is a Gift’ by Nada Surf (2005)
#98 ‘Stillmatic’ by Nas (2001)
#97 ‘Chutes Too Narrow’ by The Shins (2003)
#96 ‘Love Kraft’ by Super Furry Animals (2005)
#95 ‘Thirteen Tales From Urban Bohemia’ by The Dandy Warhols (2000)
#94 ‘The Marshall Mathers LP’ by Eminem (2000)
#93 ‘We Have Sound’ by Tom Vek (2005)
#92 ‘Veckatimest’ by Grizzly Bear (2009)
#91 ‘Room on Fire’ by The Strokes (2003)
#90 ‘Aaliyah’ by Aaliyah (2001)
#89 ‘Maths + English’ by Dizzee Rascal (2007)
#88 ‘The Life Persuit’ by Belle & Sebastian (2006)
#87 ‘Heathen’ by David Bowie (2002)
#86 ‘None Shall Pass’ by Aesop Rock (2007)
#85 ‘Quiet is the New Loud’ by Kings of Convenience (2001)
#84 ‘Yoshimi Battles The Pink Robots’ by The Flaming Lips (2002)
#83 ‘The Eraser’ by Thom Yorke (2006)
#82 ‘Suburban Light’ by The Clientele (2000)
#81 ‘Happiness in Magazines’ by Graham Coxon (2004)

November 04, 2009, 12:11pm   Comments

November 03, 2009, 5:11pm   Comments

A quick glance over Blur’s The Best of compilation’s reveals the seeds that sowed the band’s demise. It opens with ‘Beetlebum’ and ‘Song 2’, from 1997’s Blur, an album that was largely significant in washing away the Britpop sound they had helped create, replacing it with a harder edged alternative sound. Their presence as marquee tracks on Blur’s first ever compilation suggested maybe they were a little embarrassed about some of their earlier output. Second album Modern Life is Rubbish, considered an important record for the Britpop movement and in establishing Blur’s identity, fell the hardest, being almost totally ignored. They repeated the habit earlier this year on Midlife: A Beginner’s Guide to Blur axing the gimmicky, but radio friendly #1 ‘Country House’ and including ‘Strange News From Another Star’, a kind of Bowie-like experimental workout.

Really they needn’t have been so embarrassed. Britpop was great! Not since has Britain had such a flood of important bands, or an audience so excited about their output. I was only nine when Blur faced off against Oasis in their battle for chart supremacy, releasing singles simultaneously, but I remember it being a huge event. For a brief time, “your band” became as important for juvenile bragging rights as your football team, a concept that today I can’t see ever happening again. I don’t remember anyone particularly keen to take sides when Kanye and 50 Cent repeated the trick over a decade later.

Britpop was such a huge beast that for the band who worked within it, surviving in the brave new post-1997 world was always going to be a massive uphill struggle. Blur were in a stronger position than most though, since they were possibly the only act who deliberately plotted its downfall. This movement was led by guitarist Graham Coxon, who wrestled control of the band from Damon Albon. Under Albon’s stewardship, they put out their so called ‘London Trilogy’ of albums which told witty stories of working class, perennially bored Londoners, and spawned some brilliant pop singles. ‘Girls and Boys’, ‘Parklife’, Charmless Man’, Blur were like the greatest boy band ever. But they always seemed to miss that in Coxon, they had one of the best guitarists in Britain and the artist himself could barely hide his discontent. In 1995’s video for ‘The Universal’, while Albon is having a riot hamming it up as Alex DeLarge from Stanley Kubrick’s A Clockwork Orange, Coxon is almost always out of shot, or sitting on the floor, probably pondering to himself “what the hell are we doing?!”.

But oh, ‘Beetlebum’ and ‘Song 2’! Blur were Pavement, they were Nirvana, they were the entire Beatles back catalogue rolled into a seven minutes of music. And the music was laced with guitars. When those chugging, muted opening chords to ‘Beetlebun’ kick in leading into a deep, almost bass-like riff, you could almost hear Coxon’s sigh of relief. The dramatic change in direction he had pushed for had finally come to pass. But interestingly, getting his own way didn’t seem to totally appease him. Instead his creative dam burst, putting out a series of lo-fi solo albums during his last few years in the band. Pop music history tells us that solo records like this can be a way of releasing frustration. The more mainstream a band goes, the further into experimental territory one of its members can lean. Whatever his reasoning, something still wasn’t right in the band’s make up. The video for Coxon-penned single ‘Coffee & TV’ released in 1999 sees him slip away from the band’s practice session, only being noticed by an unresponsive Albon.

Released at the start of the noughties, The Best of proved to be the last Blur record released while Coxon was still in the band, citing all sorts of reason for his departure. Happiness in Magazines followed a year later, and despite being solo album number five, it felt like Coxon’s first record proper. Producer of several Blur albums Stephen Street was brought in and no doubt helped Coxon focus on what he does best: play guitar and write brilliant pop songs. On his previous efforts, the modest lo-fi recordings couldn’t hide that although surrounded by more than a few throwaway tracks and hidden beneath the fuzzy haze, Coxon showed a keen sense of melody. Happiness in Magazines at its most poppy it sounds like the missing like between pre and post 1997 Blur.

As soon as the CD whizzes into life opener ‘Spectacular’ sounds like you’ve been dropped half way in, before pausing, as if it forgot to play the intro and starts again. The whole thing sounds brilliantly juvenile, dispelling any thoughts that this was going to be an introspective post-Blur meditation or angry “bleagh, band done me wrong!!!” record. Apparently the song is about actress Shannon Sossamon, written after Coxon came across a picture of her online. “Saw you in my computer. Never seen no one cuter” - who’d of thought such a trivial event would kick start Coxon as a punk power-pop monster. When he hits the chorus and that “Youuuu Arrrre. Something quite Spec-tac-u-larrrr” banishes all thoughts that his voice is a weak instrument. As for the guitar playing, well, that’s reliably brilliant. For example, ‘No Good Time’ might be a pop song, but it can’t hide a complex stream of guitar fiddling going on underneath that’s so tight it wraps a massive steel wire around every other instrument, holding the track together.

‘Bittersweet Bundle of Misery’ shares the same DNA as Coxon-penned and sung Blur single ‘Coffee and TV’, but trades in the moody textures for a more optimistic feel. Using an acoustic guitar as the engine to drive his pop songs is simple, but effective, like on ‘Bottom Bunk’ which also sports some very Pulp-esque wit with lyrics like “you’re very pretty and you’re tanned, but I’d rather sleep with my right hand”. Indeed, most songs have a kind of irreverent humour running through them, no more so than on ‘People of the Earth’, in which Coxon takes on the guise of an alien, dishing out more criticism to our planet than Alan Sugar in his boardroom.

But this kind of playful exuberance gave the feeling that for the first time in years (maybe ever) Coxon sounded agenda-less. Freed from the shackles of internal band politics, or budgetary constraints, he made a record of incredibly appealing, funny, memorable songs.

November 03, 2009, 2:54am   Comments

I went to The Smith’s tribute band These Charming Men’s gig last night in the Button factory as a guest of their guitarist Gavin Murphy. I’d never met him before so when I got there I asked Morrissey was he around. He gave me a ridiculously rude answer. I thought he was out or order. Then when the gig started I realised he wasn’t their Morrisey at all, just some loonatic who rocked the same hair, clothes and glasses. He jumped up on stage a couple times and needed to be thrown off. Idiot!

October 31, 2009, 9:41am   Comments