Album Review: The Budos Band - Burnt Offering

Even though The Budos Band has been around for nearly a decade they have yet to take off and realized the fullness of their potential. The Staten Island nonet, along with many other staples of the Daptone label, have always been a competent instrumental funk outfit. The problem is that they’ve also been very easy to pigeonhole as nothing more and nothing less than being just that. Do they have an ensemble cast? Check. How about esoteric album art? Check. Afro-beat and world music influences? Check and double check. Burnt Offering is the band's fourth album and it is destined to be a game changer.

All it takes is one look at the album cover, a painting of cloaked and bearded wizard overseeing a smoking cauldron, and you should know that Burnt Offering is not your standard funk album. If anything that old school heavy metal imagery is the perfect indication of what this album has to offer. Through an impossible quirk of musical alchemy, Budos Band have turned their attention to the impenetrable realm of stoner rock. By incorporating some harder to tame elements The Budos Band has effectively reinvented itself. These include but are not limited to the occult heaviness of 70s heavy metal, the unchained wildness of free jazz, and the visceral crush of space rock.

Their last album Budos Band III had subtly hinted at this direction (including a cover of ‘Day Tripper’ that was so off-the-wall it was nearly unrecognisable) but nothing could have prepared us for what we have in Burnt Offering. Languid, narcotic grooves have usurped all sense of glamour and wackiness that has become synonymous with 21^st century funk music. Day has turned into night. Opening track ‘Into the Fog’ sounds like the theme song to the best Blaxploitation sword-and-sandals epic that was never put to celluloid. This is the sound of a funk band jettisoning all the rules and finding a new set that better suits their temperament.

Part of this sonic reinvention has to do with an increased emphasis that band has put on guitars - an essential compnent if you want to dip your toe into the metal pond. At the core of songs like 'Aphasia' and the blistering title track lies a strong electric guitar presence which gives them much of their character. It would be like Tony Iommi jamming with Sly and the Family Stone circa 1975 – a strange fit on paper, but something that would be awesome beyond words in practice. The all-important horn section is still present and accounted for but I doubt the humble six-string hasn’t played this pivotal a role in a funk record since Funkadelic unleashed Maggot Brain upon an unsuspecting world over 40 years ago. Burnt Offering is – to trot out an old cliché – not your parents' funk record. This is daring music from an outfit who are more than capable to blowing the genre wide open. The real question is, where do they go from here?

Rating: B
For fans of: Maggot Brain, stoner grooves, guitars in your funk
Recommended tracks: Burnt Offering, Into the Fog

Album review: The Flaming Lips - With a Little Help From My Fwends

These days the Flaming Lips are acting more like a tornado than a band. As they crawl forwards they consume, absorb, and destroy everything before them. Other bands that cross their path get sucked into their vortex – have a play in the eye of the storm – before being ejected back out again to fend for themselves. Tame Impala, Kesha, Peaches, My Morning Jacket, Moby, and many more have been temporarily grafted into the frame work of the psychedelic overlords. Their latest release is perhaps their most audacious: a full-album cover of Sgt Pepper's Lonely Heart Club Band. And those tornado victim conspirators? They are present and accounted for in unprecedented numbers.

This is of course not the first time that the Lips have gotten their hands on a sacred cow. In 2009 they gave a similar treatment to one of prog's most cherished landmarks, Dark Side of the Moon. However, given the source material, this approach of alien reinvention made perfect sense. Dark Side is an ode to the madness and isolation of the modern world. Giving it the narcotic overdose treatment that the Lips have been favouring this past decade helped the album regain some of its existential terror. And it is for exactly that reason why With a Little Help From My Fwends stumbles.

The original Sgt Pepper's is the pop equivalent of comfort food. It is a genuine masterpiece that not only helped to define popular music circa 1967 but showed everybody the limitless potential of studio recordings. It was not then, nor ever has been, an album to make you feel uncomfortable. In this revised take however the delicate classicism has been replaced by mind-expanding excess – baroque sensibility with the ceaseless churning of warped electronics and drug-enduced euphoria. This is a version of Sgt Pepper's as seen by those who were influenced by it and under the influence whilst enjoying it. Drenching every track in impenetrable fuzz and hijinks tends to detract from the music rather than enhance it. It would be like playing 'War Pigs' on a xylophone; sure, it's possible, but why would you bother?

Even still, you have to give it The Flaming Lips when it comes to their choice of collaborators. No name is too big, obtuse, or obscure to make it onto their dream team roster. Under their guidance alt-rockers and savants rub shoulders with popsters and MCs. All it takes is one look at the guest list to realize that the personnel on Fwends is as diverse as the faces that graced the cover of Sgt Pepper's itself. Tegan and Sara, Phantogram, J Mascis, Chuck Inglish, Grace Potter … the list goes on.

Out of this motley crew perhaps none were a more controversial choice than Miley Cyrus. What is even more shocking than The Flaming Lips hanging out with the It-girl is that she does an excellent job on both of her songs. Along with Moby she serenades a certain girl named Lucy and takes part in 'A Day in the Life' with New Fumes. With all of these eccentric persons trying to out-weird one another having a bonafide pop artist playing it (relatively) straight is exactly what the doctor ordered. When she picks up Paul McCartney's lines in 'A Day in the Life' through a dubbed-out beat you have little doubt that she means every word of them.

But unfortunately not all of these collaborations work. Some are inspired (Maynard James Keenan playing the role of Mr Kite for example), many others are capable if not exceptional, while more still are downright painful. Listening to The Autumn Defense and Black Pus trade lines in 'With a Little Help From My Friends' is borderline torturous. In their shaky hands Ringo's sing-along star turn falls apart at the seams. In truth the best songs here are the ones that stick closest to their original inspirations. Very little can match the joyous surge of 'Getting Better' and 'Good Morning, Good Morning' and the new, Lips-ified versions here are faithful while still bringing a new edge to the table.

With that being said, not all of the reinventions turn out to be tragedies. With the help of indie rockers Foxygen and MGMT's Ben Goldwasser the reprise of 'Sgt Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band' is a bong-blasted treat. The all-too brief frame work of the tune has been teased out and stretched into ungodly shapes that reach for four times the length of the original rendition. Wooly organ vamps, blistering guitar leads, and sonic phasings are glued together by their own pungent aromas.

So what we have is a self-indulgent revisionist take on one of rock's greatest milestones, one that unfortunately misses the mark more often than it hits. The heart of The Flaming Lips is in the right place but what With a Little Help From My Fwends proves is that good intentions cannot undo some suspicious creative decisions.

Rating: B-

For fans of: Acid rock, the trippier side to The Beatles, psychedelic freaks

Recommended tracks: Being for the Benefit of Mr Kite, Sgt Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band (Reprise)

Album review: Primus and the Fungi Ensemble - Primus and the Chocolate Factory

It is almost impossible to believe that it took a band like Primus twenty five years to make a full-blown concept album. What is much easier to believe however is that now in 2014 the oddball California trio have decided to do so in remaking the soundtrack to 1971’s Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. In recent interviews front man Les Claypool has professed his love for the Gene Wilder classic, citing it as a major influence on not only his music but his personal life as well. If you have been following his career (both in and outside of Primus) this should come as absolutely no surprise at all. Claypool’s sense of dark cartoonish whimsy is entirely in line with the cheerful psychedelic horror of the film.

Primus and the Chocolate Factory has been billed as Primus and the Fungi Ensemble; the Fungi Ensemble components coming in the form of percussionist Mike Dillon and cellist Sam Bass. These are two musicians who were cribbed from Claypool’s own band to help fill out the record. The album also welcomes long-time Primus drummer (and recent cancer survivor) Tim “Herb” Alexander back into the band for the first album since the Animals Should Not Act Like People EP back in 2003. For those paying attention to the maths, that means that four out of five players on this record are the rhythm section. The sound that these guys make is pure Primus but with an even heavier focus on sheer off-the-wall weirdness than ever before.

So what does it sound like, a practically undefinable alternative rock band tackling the soundtrack to a million childhoods? The short answer is: faithful but disturbing. These are the very songs from the movie and while they’ve been Primus-ified they are still instantly recognisable. The sing-along lines to ‘Candy Man’ and ‘Golden Ticket’ have been thickened out with pounding drum rolls and oddly-tuned guitars but anybody who’s ever seen the film will feel right at home. But to be honest there was little need to alter the tunes. From the comforting distance of adulthood it can be easy to forget the dark undercurrents of Willy Wonka and his fantastical factory. 

If the song ‘Pure Imagination’ should happen to conjure up images of a brightly coloured candy man atop his magical barge then this version is confronting you with its own private psychotropic nightmare. The words are exactly the same in both versions but Larry LaLonde’s pin-balling guitar lead, Claypool’s nimble but improbably-thick bass lines, and the ensemble of clattering percussion has a tendency to instil the correct degree of dread in the listener. This is something that Primus are keen to remind us all of; that the horrors behind the fantasy are all too real and much closer than you think.

Arguably some of the most famous musical numbers from Willy Wonka are the fourth wall-breaking Oompa Loompa songs. Each and every one of these songs has survived intact on the album, dominating the b-side. The monstrous stomp they bring to it and Claypool’s carney barker delivery are perfectly at home here philosophizing about the downfalls of greed, gluttony, and sloth. If there was ever going to be (yet another) new version of the film, a lot of time could be saved by transplanting Primus directly into these scenes. 

The only “new” track on the album is the closing piece, ‘Farewell Wonkites’ – and even it makes liberal use of the ‘Pure Imagination’ melody. On this song Primus flex every prog rock muscle in their bodies and they have plenty of those to spare. LaLonde is in full The Wall-era David Gilmour mode for this powerful instrumental closer to the album. He might play second fiddle to the almighty percussion ensemble (and Claypool’s peerless bass guitar work) for most of the album but at least right at the end he has his chance to shine. By the time it wraps up there’s a good chance you will have partially melted into your sofa with a wide, candy-induced grin plastered onto your face.

We live in a world where dozens of TV shows and movies have repurposed the plot of Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory (as well as, in some cases, the music) for their own designs. Over the years it has become a part of our collective cultural consciousness. For a band to just go ahead and base an entire album on that movie might seem like a cheap, creatively bereft ploy – an easy out in choosing to pluck the low-hanging fruit. Luckily that band just so happens to be Primus and in their hands Primus and the Chocolate Factory regains much of the original movie’s garish menace with enough of a twist to keep it fresh.

Rating: B+

For fans of: The weird and wonderful world of Primus, the original Willy Wonka movie, nightmarish fever dreams

Recommended tracks: Golden Ticket, Pure Imagination

Album review: Melvins - Hold It In

Even though they have been around now for more than thirty years, every time Melvins release a new album the question has to be asked: which Melvins are we getting today? Is this latest offering going to be from art-punks, sludgy overlords, feedback pranksters, cover song jukeboxes, or perhaps some new arrangement we’ve yet to behold? And then there’s the question of exactly who Melvins are at this point in time. In the last eight years alone they have performed as a venomous jazz trio (Freak Puke), as a double-duo in conjunction with kindred spirits Big Business (The Bride Screamed Murder among others), and as their original 1983 line-up (Tres Cabrones). And none of this precludes the possibility that Melvins have found yet another line-up to perform with. With so many unanswered questions the best thing to do is to grit your teeth, lay those questions aside, and embrace every new album with as open of a mind as possible.

Melvins latest record (their 22nd overall!) manages to side-step both of those burning questions by offering up something new on both fronts. Backing King Buzzo and Dale Crover on Hold It In are two men completely new to the Washington legends but just so happen to share their history. Paul Leary (guitar) and JD Pinkus (bass) were never household names but they were part of the infamous (but now defunct) Texas psych-rock outfit known only as Butthole Surfers. So what we have here are the original noise brats teaming up with two weirdos from Butthole Surfers to make some even weirder music. So far, so Melvins. But what will no doubt come as a surprise is that Hold It In is the most accessible Melvins record in years.

Hold It In shows exactly what happens when a band like Melvins cut loose and make an album for their own entertainment over anybody else’s. There’s no shortage of heaviness and there’s plenty of weirdness but at the heart of it Hold It In represents Melvins at their most playful since 2006’s (A) Senile Animal. Even after all these years these guys know how to write a teenage burn-out anthem like nobody’s business. In spite of its Hammer Horror title ‘Bride of Crankenstein’ could be the theme song to any number of high school stoner parties (particularly the part about “Spinning ‘round the wrong way”). The guitars are huge and gritty but they never completely obscure the catchy hook residing in the song’s core. 

All it takes is one look at the track listing to understand that Melvins never take themselves 100% seriously. If they did would they ever pen a brutish heavy metal tune and call it ‘Seasame Street Meat’? What about something by the name of ‘Onions Make the Milk Taste Bad’ or ‘Piss Pisstopherson’? These names are the by-products of eternal tricksters; Peter Pans who grew louder and less self-conscious in place of actually growing up. Naturally these eccentricities extended beyond just song titles. How else can you explain the accordion and xylophone bridge of the bruising ‘The Bunk Up’ that runs longer than the “meat” of the song? By the time you have waded through the final six minutes of formless noise that close out ‘House of Gasoline’ you should have little doubt that the joke has been on you, the listener, the whole time. 

A large portion of Hold It In is dedicated to pop-punk sing-alongs. Wait a second, you might say, have Melvins gone soft on us? Perish the thought, puny mortal. On the surface ‘Eyes On You’ and ‘You Can Make Me Wait’ might seem like something The Pixies might have come up with if they had been locked in an underground bunker with a lifetime supply of Quaaludes, but there is always a biting undercurrent of bitterness to sink your teeth into. It might not come as much of a surprise then that these “lighter” songs were all penned by Leary. His taste for bad-taste pop music has brought out some excellent material from these noise juggernauts.

After years of goofing on their own style and formula, Melvins have struck gold once again with Hold It In. It might not be the strongest album they’ve ever committed to record (fans will keep that argument alive for years to come) but it certainly is their most consistently good work in a long time. Only time will tell if this iteration of Melvins is going to become a regular gig or whether, like so many of their other good ideas, it’s destined to be swept away in favour of the next mad scientist concoction. 

Rating: A-

Recommended tracks: Bride of Crankenstein, Onions Make the Milk Taste Bad, Nine Yards

Album review: Alt-J - This Is All Yours

It's a question as old as time itself: what's in a name? Does your chosen handle define you, or is it merely shorthand for your true self? What if you were in a band named after a keyboard shortcut – would that hinder your success or not? Only time will tell if Leeds' Alt-J are foolhardy or fearless in their choice of moniker. They are the true darling of the indie scene in an age where every band who gets on a magazine cover is somebody's “darling”. Silly name and the endless machinations of the hype machine aside, these guys have been proving just how fearless they are for years now. In 2012 their auspicious debut album, An Awesome Wave, catapulted the trio from obscurity to the tips of everybody's tongues in a heartbeat. Can their follow up record keep that magic flowing or will they be crushed under the weight of expectations? With This Is All Yours, has lightning struck twice for these indie rock savants? Perhaps we should just let the music speak for itself.

Like many young acts coming out of Britain today, Alt-J take a very synthetic approach to their own sound. A keen eared listener can pick out dozens of influences if they had the inclination and the time up their sleeve. They exist in the bizarre space between Radiohead's ingrained eccentricity, MGMT's electro-induced nightmares, and the stoned whimsy of My Morning Jacket. And yet somehow all of this is underpinned by a twisted pop sensibility. Yes, on paper that makes no sense at all, but neither does the music of Alt-J, so in a roundabout way it kinda does. The real joy comes from those moments where those elements combine to be greater than the sum of their parts.

Gus Unger-Hamilton's malleable keyboard lines are stitched between these tracks like thread through cloth, oozing out through the little gaps. They weave their way through spaced out folk, electro ruminations, and steaming piles of vintage rock. The three part 'Nara' trilogy which anchors the album down contains enough classic prog chic to furnish an entire crimson king. Everything else might shift and changes around it but they remain a constant amidst a sea of uncertainty. All of these ideas drifting in and out of the record gives This Is All Yours a surreal, ethereal quality. It gives off the impression that if you were to turn your back it might just evaporate into thin air. This makes for an album that is endlessly enigmatic and bewitching.

If you are unfamiliar with Alt-J and their body of work then you might well think that this album's lead single, 'Left Hand Free', is in some way indicative of the band's sound. Everyone else will know that this simply is not the case. It's a rugged and greasy slab of retro-rock that fits in perfectly with the modern style. In fact it might well be the best song that the Black Keys of Leon never wrote. Having that song lead people down this very misleading path is a bold gambit, one that would have completely fallen apart if the rest of the album wasn't so good. So what if you're the strange sort of person who will skip straight to the song you know? Well Alt-J are prepared for your ilk by putting a flute-based instrumental track 'Garden of England' directly after 'Left Hand Free'. That'll teach you for skipping tracks, you vile track skippers, you!

As if there was any doubt at this point, but this album shows once and for all that Joe Newman's voice is one of the band's greatest assets. It is a chameleonic instrument that's equally at home buried under a tonne of AM-radio fuzz, leading the charge over a horn section, accompanying a lone plucked guitar string, or dueling with a Miley Cyrus vocal sample (yes, you read that right). And it pays to listen closely to what he's singing about too. Perhaps the line “Turn you inside out and lick you like a crisp packet”(cribbed from the standout track 'Every Other Freckle') might get your motor running. On the other hand, it might leave you disgusted and dry retching. The fact that this (and plenty of other goofy come-ons) are wrapped up inside a dense head-trip jam gives you some idea of how deep this rabbit hole goes.

If you are content to have This Is All Yours pottering away in the background then the music will drift amicably on by. But if you decide to sharpen your focus you will be amazed at the tiny moment of brilliance that pepper the album. It's cool, it's savvy, and it's oh so hard to pin down. But not only that but it becomes clear very quickly that This Is All Yours is a genuine labour of love. Nothing this gentle, intricate, and pristine could possibly have been made through major label pushiness. It is untouched by big money's rough hands, leaving the end result playful and restless like all of the greatest art this side of the millennium. For once, the free spirits have won the day.

Rating: A-

Recommended tracks: Every Other Freckle, Nara, Left Hand Free