Everyone's a Winner

This coming week sees the twentieth instalment of the annual Mercury Prize ceremony. The award, which was originally conceived as an alternative to the BRIT Awards, seeks to reward the best of new British music while also celebrating that which is exciting and innovative.

One thing that can’t be denied is that the Mercury Prize stimulates debate. Some of the choices have appeared out of step with the public mood (1994 saw M People’s Elegant Slumming pip Blur’s Parklife to the crown) and on occasion, the subsequent weight of expectation makes winning the Mercury seem a backwards step career-wise (think Talvin Singh or Klaxons).

It’s easy to knock the Mercury, but what’s rarely mentioned is that it gives all the nominated artists a significant spike in record sales and besides, what other ceremonies do we have to recognise musical achievement outside the mainstream?

Music writer Jude Rogers has been on the judging panel since 2007, and feels a sense of pride when nominated artists begin to enjoy more commercial success. “It’s what keeps me coming back!” she says, “I really hope more people get to hear the King Creosote and Jon Hopkins album this year.” Chair of the judging panel, Simon Frith agrees: “The prize fulfils my DJ/critic fantasy of getting people to listen to music I like in a much more tangible way than writing about records ever did.”

In this age of reality TV shows and public phone-ins, it’s actually refreshing to find an award that still relies solely on expert opinion and – shock, horror – decides its winner via the medium of discussion. Hundreds of artists enter their albums for the Mercury each year, and the judges have the onerous task of whittling the long-list down to just a dozen records. “Listening to every entry isn’t particularly enjoyable,” admits Jude Rogers, “but I always find new artists I’ve never heard of before and there are enough diamonds in the rough to keep me interested.”

Picking a winner from the list of twelve is slightly more of a dark art, it would appear. Upon being asked to describe the process, Jude Rogers replied that, “sadly, we’re told to keep it confidential!” Simon Frith fleshed out the process slightly: “In the course of discussions the list of possible winners is gradually shortened. The whole process is based on argument; eloquence can make a difference.” It appears that it really is as simple as locking some critics in a room and refusing to let them out until they have a unanimous verdict on a winner.

One aspect of the Mercury Prize which is always remarked upon is what has become known as the “tokenistic” nomination. This overly-harsh phrase describes the one jazz or classical album that always seems to be included on the list, but never wins (this year’s contender is Gwilym Simcock’s Good Days At Schloss Elmau). Unsurprisingly, the critics themselves don’t see such nominations as a box-ticking exercise. “There have certainly been genre-specific winners even if they haven’t yet been jazz records,” points out Simon Frith. Jude Rogers goes further, and believes that a leftfield winner isn’t so unlikely: “If it sums up the mood of the year, and is fantastic musically and creatively, of course a jazz or classical album could win.” She goes on to say, “One year, a certain entry that some people would say is from one of the “token” genres got very close to winning indeed.”

Having spoken to two of the judging panel, it seems clear that those involved are understandably keen to reinforce the positive aspects of the Mercury Prize. It seems unfairly maligned and of course, there will be choices that many people disagree with, but that’s all part of the fun. So, whoever wins on 6th September, you can rest assured that it’s a choice that hasn’t been made hastily. It’s a decision that’s been reached by a team of experts with a real love of music and a commitment to championing creativity. In a world of instant gratification and short attention spans, the Mercury Prize is something we should celebrate, whether we agree with the judges’ verdict or not.

The Singles Bar - 29/8/11

The last Monday in August is a bank holiday in the UK. That means it’s a perfect opportunity for friends, family and loved ones to convene, to enjoy each other’s company and for summer to have one last hoorahbefore the chilly embrace of autumn intervenes. I spent today sitting in my flat, alone, listening to the new singles that have been made available to buy. This probably says more about me than I’d care to admit.

Anyway, here are the tracks and this week, there’s even a Spotify playlist containing them all to accompany the article. Enjoy!

Owl City – Deer In The Headlights

Owl City have certainly attracted their fair share of controversy on these pages, most notably in AndrewBaer’s review of their most recent album. Personally, I find them too bland to get too worked up about, andDeer In The Headlights won’t do anything to change that. It’s a passable effort that starts off sounding like the 90210 theme tune. It’s a bit Postal Service-lite and the lyrics are a little trite, but it’s inoffensive enough to attract lots of fans. Not for me though, oh, and by the way, the animal you’re looking for is a rabbit, not a deer. 4/10

Cults – Go Outside

Only time will tell if Cults make the breakthrough their critical reception predicts, but Go Outside has certainly been getting a lot of airplay in the UK. It’s a very 2011 sounding record, by which I mean there are elements of shoegaze, dream-pop and a kind of ethereal sheen over the whole thing. It has a strong melody, a glockenspiel prettily echoing the vocal line and is exceptionally catchy. The breakdown halfway through is haunting yet it still retains a sunshine feel. Oddly enough, it doesn’t seem to have any verses. What’s it about? Oh, I’ve no idea, going outside probably. 9/10 – SINGLE OF THE WEEK

The Feeling – A Hundred Sinners (Come and Get It)

The Feeling are another act it’s difficult to have strong feelings about either way due to their sheer dullness. Some of the songs from their first record had a tendency to get stuck in your head but this is instantly forgettable and shows a real lack of ambition. Critics seem to find it easy to put the boot into AOR bands (unfairly, in my opinion), but this is a good deal worse than Supertramp, ELO et al. The most interesting thing about this song was when my listening was interrupted halfway through by a cold caller. Uninspiring, insipid stuff. 2/10

Panic! At The Disco – Let’s Kill Tonight

I really can’t make my mind up about P!ATD. On one hand, they’re attached to that annoying emo movement, but on the other hand, they’ve written one or two decent songs, and I’m prepared to give kudos to any band with punctuation in their name. Let’s Kill Tonight starts promisingly, with healthy daubs ofelectronica, but the chanting chorus is a little flat. In fact, the electro squeals over the chorus sound like a cross between the guitar solo at the end of November Rain and the music to the Mystic Cave zone from Sonic 2 on the MegaDrive (or Genesis, if you’re one of those American types). No mean feat, but this isn’t quite the track it could have been. 6/10

Cover Drive – Lick Ya Down

Some (very) brief research tells me that Cover Drive are a Bajan group who are on the verge of moving to London having signed a deal with Polydor. Lick Ya Down is an ill-advised attempt to mix Euro house, Caribbean rhythms and airhorns. There are shades of Rihanna, Ke$ha and Nicki Minaj, but Cover Drive never come close to matching any of that illustrious trio. The message of the song appears to be that they are, in fact, going to “lick ya, lick ya down, lick ya, lick ya down, down, down,” which I’m not really sure I’m particularly enthusiastic about. Incidentally, one of Cover Drive performs under the name of Bar-Man, which is apt as it’s sure to be his occupation in the near future. 3/10

Kaiser Chiefs – Man On Mars

You never know quite what you’re going to get with Kaiser Chiefs. Man On Mars starts with an Asian-sounding riff, sure to herald the start of something big, yet it never quite arrives. There are some nice chord changes, a few soaring moments, but the lack of a killer chorus is the song’s Achilles’ heel. It’s difficult to imagine this is the same group who wrote the raucous I Predict A Riot. Completely fine as an album track,Man On Mars is an odd choice of single and unlikely to win the band many new fans. 5/10

Bruno Mars – Marry You

As Bruno Mars is responsible for The Lazy Song – possibly the first song it took less time to write than it does to listen to – my hopes weren’t high for this. Although I like Mars’ description of alcohol as “dancing juice,” Marry You is far from recommended. Despite strong vocals, there’s a lack of spark in the production, and the inclusion of church bells is disappointingly predictable. However, when all’s said and done, Bruno Mars has now released four solo singles, and this is the least murder-inducingly irritating of the lot. 4/10

Theme Park – A Mountain We Love

I don’t know about you, but if I were starting a band, I’d make sure I picked a name which was distinctive and likely to make my group come top in any Google searches. London quartet Theme Park have, however, eschewed such common sense, the scoundrels. A Mountain We Love wastes no time getting started, and is a head-nodding slice of new-wave electro that proudly wears its 80s influences on its sleeve. There are interesting sounds dotted throughout the track (including a kind of synth steel drum) and the twin lead vocals really work well. It could do with being taken up a notch – there’s little change in the song from start to finish – but it’s a pretty damn good effort and certainly worthy of your time. 8/10

Nicole Scherzinger – Wet

On Wet, Nicole Scherzinger sings, “Let’s get a little wet, I like the way you work it,” “If you touch me there, please beware, you can start up a fire” and other not-at-all-disguised sexual innuendos. Actually, to call them innuendos would be to credit the lyrics with some sort of invention, which would be wrong. This depressing slice of porno-pop sounds like a barrel is being scraped, which is apt as it’s the fourth single from her debut album and the well of inspiration looks like it’s run dry (unlike Scherzinger herself, it would appear). Earlier singles like Poison and Don’t Hold Your Breath are infinitely better than this tired attempt at dance. If you’re planning on drinking too much and cavorting with a stranger in the suffocating atmosphere of a club, there are far superior soundtracks. 1/10

Katy B – Witches Brew

I’m a big fan of Katy B and her debut album, On A Mission, but I question the logic of releasing a sixth single from it. Presumably it’s a final promotional push before next week’s Mercury Prize, for which On A Mission has been nominated. From the brilliant punning title onwards, Witches Brew is a fantastic track - a stunning mix of pop and dubstep, with bonkers production and an electrifying chorus. Back in April, Ipredicted that Katy B had made the pop record of 2011 and it’s tracks like Witches Brew that back up such a claim. It’s just a shame that the record’s been spliced apart; half of the tracks are now available as singles. This is an odd one really – a fantastic song, but one that should never really have been a single in the first place. 8/10

Jessie J – Who’s Laughing Now

The answer to the question posed in the title of this track is presumably Island Records, who have seen Jessie J’s album, Who You Are, go double-platinum in the UK. The start of Who’s Laughing Now is similar to Snoop Dogg’s Drop It Like It Hot, but it soon transforms into a grating, solipsistic car-crash of a record.Who’s Laughing Now is smug, whiny, soulless, disposable music, engineered with the sole intention of commerce. It also contains a horrific rap which features the line, “Oh my God, babe, your voice is, like,wow.” I’m a mild-mannered sort and have nothing against Jessie J personally, but I despise everything about her music and everything she stands for in an artistic sense. Thanks to that internet thing, I understand Jessie J performed at the VMAs last night. I’d like to say that, America, on behalf of the UK, I sincerelyapologise. And while we’re on the subject, sorry about Piers Morgan too. 0/10

Ed Sheeran – You Need Me, I Don’t Need You

What is it with UK artists being confrontational and hell-bent on proving their “realness.” There’s the aforementioned Jessie J, Cher Lloyd confronting “haters” on Swagger Jagger and now Ed Sheeran, who’s very keen for us to know he “didn’t go to BRIT School” and, slightly more bafflingly, that he’s “not fake, don’t ever call me Daisy.” If you didn’t hear Daisy Sheeran’s previous single, The A Team, it was an ode to a companion succumbing to drug addiction, sung to the tune of Hey There Delilah with lyrics written by someone who’d ingested a rhyming dictionary. Either that, or the faces of junkies really are “crumbling likepastries.” You Need Me, I Don’t Need You is, if anything, even worse, with its acoustic hip-hop like ananaemic Beck and Daisy going to enormous lengths to prove to the world what a prize chump he really is. There are several candidates for the nadir of this song (and perhaps, all of recorded music), but ladies and gentleman, thank you for reading today and I shall leave you with this, a line which makes me never want to listen to music ever again – “They say I’m up and coming like I’m fucking in an elevator.” 0/10

100% Publishing

Wiley - 100% Publishing
released 20 June 2011 on Big Dada

If you were Wiley, it would be perfectly reasonable to wish it were still 2003. Back then, the man born Richard Cowie was heralded as the leading light of an exciting and challenging new breed of hip-hop – UK grime. It was more brutal and sparse than its polished American cousin, and Wiley was set to take the charts by storm.

Except, he didn’t. Dizzee Rascal won the Mercury Prize with Boy In Da Corner (which Wiley guested on), and Wiley ended up with more critical than commercial success. Now on his seventh (seventh?!) album, it sadly seems he’s stuck at that moment where it all nearly happened.

UK hip-hop used to be something of a joke, and few people have done as much to change that perception than Wiley. However, music evolves, and the landscape today is very different to what it was eight years ago. Since then, Dizzee’s sanded down his rough edges and gone stratospheric, Roots Manuva has continued to innovate, and even dubstep acts (such as Burial) and dancehall MCs (like Toddla T) can be considered part of the mainstream.

All this leaves Wiley ploughing his furrow alone, still claiming he’s the ice-cold 'eski boy'. That said, Wiley clearly remains one of the best MCs around, and that kind of talent doesn’t just disappear. His rhymes are rich, varied and display an artist clearly in love with language. There’s a stack of superb lines to choose from, but you’d have to go some way to beat, I’m a time travel dude and the future can’t be altered / That’s why my life has never been as plain as ready salted.

Like the vast majority of rappers, Wiley likes to inform the listener of his own brilliance, but there’s self-doubt and paranoia creeping in round the edges. The title track is doubtful – nobody knows if it’s gonnawork overseas but you wait until I try – and on Numbers In Action, he acknowledges that People saying my last hit’s Rolex; a reference to his superb 2008 hit single, Wearing My Rolex. Perhaps this is an admission that after a prolific career, he’s becoming susceptible to stress and worry.

In hip-hop, verses can only take you so far, the beats are vital too, and this is where 100% Publishing starts to fall down. Entirely produced by Wiley himself, a lot of the album sounds simply like a man going through the motions. Stuck in his salad days, the problem isn’t so much what Wiley is doing, it’s what everyone else has done in the interim. There are inspired moments – there’s an almost ravey, Balearic feel to Your Intuition – but for the most part, it sounds tired.

Not just that, it’s muddled too. Like Roots and Dizzee, Wiley is a particularly British kind of lyricist, which is why the latter half of 100% Publishing’s forays into the smooth sounds of American hip-hop are so jarring. Again, it’s very 2003, but this time, it’s what was happening over the Atlantic rather than on the streets of London. A case in point is Talk About Life, which starts with a Mr. Scruff riff, tribal beats and addictive synths, and has the potential to comfortably be the best song on the whole record. However, the chorus arrives, and it’s an insipid, radio-friendly slice of characterless R&B. It’s enormously frustrating – Wiley boasts on Boom Boom Da Na that the weed won’t replace my legacy, but he could be wrong.

100% Publishing concludes with To Be Continued, and Wiley’s assertion: To be continued, ‘cos my work ain’t over / Get my mind right, I can make a body of work. This seems a fair summing up of the record; it has potential and is brimming with obvious talent, it’s just as if Wiley doesn’t have the requisite concentration or fire to see it through. Unfortunately, that line finishes with, See, I told ya, meaning Wiley seemingly believes this album is, in fact, his crowning achievement as an artist. Sadly, he’s mistaken, as 100% Publishing isn’t anything like the masterpiece it has the potential to be.

The Singles Bar - 15/8/11

The singles chart is a confusing beast, isn’t it? Once upon a time, a song would be on the radio for a week or three before being released on a physical product you could buy in a shop. Then, when downloads became popular, they had to be incorporated, and now we’ve got on-air on-sale; the concept that no-one quite understands and not all labels seem to be adhering to.

This all means that it’s difficult to know what singles are coming out and when. So, we’re taking it back to the old school, and in the style of music mags of yore, like Smash Hits!, we’re reviewing the singles. Hooray.

These are the platters that matter on Monday 15th August 2011.

Professor Green – At Your Convenience

Rap numpty Professor Green’s new single starts with a slurred, “aw, mate,” and we’ve had a “your Mum”reference before we’re even into the first verse. It also includes the line, “I’ve just had a shit and I can’t find the loo roll.” The squalling guitars in the background work quite well, but Green’s voice is incredibly irritating and his lyrics depressingly juvenile. This is the kind of thing you’d expect to crop up near the end of a D12record. He’s not even a real Professor either. 2/10

Brett Anderson – Brittle Heart

Suede have experienced something of a renaissance in the past year, so it’s curious as to why Brett Anderson’s new release is so low-key. Lyrically, he’s the same as he ever was (“Give me your brittle heart and your ashtray eyes”), but shorn of his band, there’s something sadly lacking. Brittle Heart isn’t a bad track by any means, though it is a bit of a mid-tempo plodder, which fails to hit the anthemic heights it’s reaching for. Nice, but perhaps not single material. 5/10

Cloud Control – Gold Canary

I’d never heard of Cloud Control before, but their close harmonies immediately reminded me of Fleet Foxes. Then the lead vocal came in, and Alister Wright even sounds like Robin Pecknold. However, they’re not quite Appalachian mountain clones – there are some female vocals in the mix and a healthy dose of electronic tomfoolery. Around the two minute mark, there’s a definite shift and the track begins to soar. Accomplished stuff and really quite enjoyable. 7/10

CSS feat. Bobby Gillespie – Hits Me Like a Rock

I’ve mixed feelings about this collaboration. CSS have made some great songs whereas Bobby Gillespie is clearly a deluded plank of the highest order. Sadly, CSS seem to have lost some of their oomph since their riotous debut and Hits Me Like a Rock meanders along quite nicely until a horrible realisation hits me – it sounds like Vengaboys. Gillespie’s hushed vocals work surprisingly well, but oh dear, it’s cheesy Euro pop o’clock. 4/10

The Sound Of Arrows – M.A.G.I.C.

I’ve decided to eat a chocolate and lemon tart while listening to The Sound Of Arrows and it’s turning out to be a very wise decision. M.A.G.I.C. is uplifting and refreshing (like lemon), but there’s clearly something going on which puts it above your standard pop record (like choc… well, not really, the metaphor kind of ends there). Dreamy vocals and an incredibly infectious singalong chorus make this track a surprise success. 8/10

Battles feat. Gary Numan – My Machines

This track is relentless. A repeated, sludgy riff over insane drumming and strong synth lines mean this track is highly recommended. Gary Numan is a perfect fit for My Machines, his voice complimenting the gothic feel of the music. The build-up around the three minute mark is genuinely exciting – anyone who thinks Muse are the best at atmospheric, apocalyptic rock should spend an afternoon locked in a room with this song. 9/10 – SINGLE OF THE WEEK

Wonderland – Nothing Moves Me Anymore

Wonderland are a girl band formed by Svengali Louis Walsh and Westlife member Kian Egan (whose wife just happens to be in the band). Nothing Moves Me Anymore is a syrupy abomination of a ballad – the likes of which you’ve heard countless times before (think Leona Lewis or… Westlife, actually). There are the usual strings, the obligatory over-emoting, in fact, the only thing missing is a key change. As Oscar Wilde would have said, “I tell you what, this song’s a load of old shit.” 0/10

The Wombats – Perfect Disease

I’m no fan of The Wombats, however this isn’t too shabby at all. The lyrics aren’t up to much, and Matthew Murphy’s vocals are overly earnest as usual, but it sounds a lot like a more commercially-focussedKlaxons, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing. In fact, if you put your preconceptions of The Wombats to one side, you’ll discover a tight, neat pop song, which you can have a bit of a dance to as well. Nice work, my Antipodean marsupial friends. 7/10

Lenny Kravitz – Stand

Yes, I was also shocked to learn Lenny Kravitz was still recording and releasing music. After hearingStand, I’m not sure why he bothers, because this could have been released by Kravitz at any point in the last two decades. It’s got the classic rock feel you’d expect, and is likely to feature on numerous driving compilations. Overall, Stand’s ok if you like that sort of thing, but it’s not bringing anything new to the table – far from it, in fact. 5/10

Frank Ocean – Swim Good

Those Odd Future boys are cheeky scamps, aren’t they? What with their rapping about rape and killing and such. Frank Ocean is a very different proposition from his better-known bandmate, Tyler, though. Swim Good is what I believe the kids call a “slow jam,” and very pleasant it is too. Ocean’s relaxed vocals sit over steady beats and a slightly haunting backing. Maybe it’s a little too drowsy actually, but it’s certainly worth four minutes of your time. The track ends with thirty seconds of sounds from the beach. I like the beach. 8/10

There's a Riot Goin' On

“I thought that if you had an acoustic guitar, it meant that you were a protest singer. I can smile about it now but at the time it was terrible.” Morrissey, 1985 (The Smiths – Shakespeare’s Sister)

“Let’s just keep fighting the end of the world. We can hold hands and we can make plans, for life.” MurrayLightburn, 2003 (The Dears – No Cities Left)

Although the riots that recently ravaged the major cities of England were shocking, signs of unrest amongst the populace have been plain to see for a few years. Recession, the MPs' expenses scandal and the extraordinary hike in university tuition fees are just some of the events that have led to a feeling of disaffection and tension on the streets.

Clearly, a sustained period of rioting and looting is an extreme response, and the factors that caused such acts are far more complex and myriad than those mentioned above. Indeed, solving these problems will require a long and sustained period of action, though no-one yet knows how this should be approached. It’s an unusual case; whereas the people normally rise up against their rulers or authority, these riots saw local businesses and homes attacked. It's plain to see that something has gone badly wrong.

However, it’s not the first time there have been economic problems in England and it’s not the first time people have taken to the streets to voice their unhappiness. Pop music often mirrors the mood of the nation. Under the previous Conservative government there were a number of politically-charged records in the charts, but now – where there’s a Conservative government in all but name – the stars of today have been curiously quiet.

The last major riots in the UK were almost exactly thirty years ago. The soundtrack to those events was The Specials’ Ghost Town, a sparse, unsettling song about urban decay and inner city violence. Ghost Town spent three weeks at number 1 in the charts – it’s a fantastic record but the fact it reflected major events of the time was also fundamental to its success. In fact, watch any reports or footage of those riots, and there’s a good chance Ghost Town will have been chosen to accompany the pictures.

In 2011, what do we get atop the charts as the anthem of our distress? Cher Lloyd’s Swagger Jagger. Although it’s an unhappy accident, there’s something that chimes with the attitudes of the rioters and theself-centred, confrontational nature of Lloyd’s song (“You can’t stop looking at me, so get off of my face”). That said, it’s unlikely any of the rioters were inspired by the words of a teenage reality show alumnus.

Protest songs have a rich and vibrant history. In the early to mid-20th Century, folk singers would travel round with little more than a guitar on their back, singing songs of oppression, deceit and skullduggery. These acts were particularly popular in New York’s Greenwich Village in the 1960s, a scene which spawned Bob Dylan, a keen student of Woody Guthrie amongst others. It’s difficult to imagine an artist of Dylan’s popularity today writing something as acerbic (yet articulate) as Masters Of War (except Dylan himself, perhaps).

As the 60s became the 70s, Curtis Mayfield wasn’t exactly shy about saying what he felt, and Marvin Gaye released the timeless What’s Going On. The 80s saw the newly mainstream hip-hop, hardcore punk and Billy Bragg pick up the baton, while the riot grrrls and Rage Against The Machine did for the 90s. In the 21st Century though, a swathe of post-9/11 tracks aside, the protest song seems to be a dying art.

Why could this be? Maybe it’s because the pursuit of commercial success comes before the desire to actually say something of any substance. Maybe it’s because the artists of today aren’t as politically engaged as those of yesteryear. Maybe it’s because rock and roll is now so much part of the establishment, it would seem mightily hypocritical to be rallying against it. Either way, modern artists tend to make any protest-like feelings they possess relatively opaque in their songs. It appears the only recent act to buck this trend and make a real statement against something was Green Day, with their rock opera,American Idiot. In a ridiculous turn of events, The Ordinary Boys started with a mod-like album of scathing attacks on modern British life, Over The Counter Culture, before their lead singer, Preston, became a contestant on Celebrity Big Brother, married a glamour model and ended up as a gossip magazine staple.

So, who is the new Bob Dylan or Billy Bragg? Where is the next Public Enemy? In the wake of the tuition fee protests in London, Brighton-based act, The Agitator, were pushed to prominence. However, further interrogation revealed them to be all fur coat and no knickers, full as they were of clichéd posturing and empty sloganeering. Their rallying cry of, “Now is the time to agitate,” is hopelessly vague and unlikely to overthrow a schoolgirl, let alone a government. In times of desperate need, “agitating” a group makes you a minor annoyance rather than a revolutionary.

Protest music is the music of the people; the lingua franca of the streets. As previously mentioned, it’s difficult for guitar-based music to become that when it’s such a commodity. In the UK, at least, it looks like hip-hop and grime could lead the way. Music journalist Dorian Lynskey - someone who should know a thing or two about protest music, having written a weighty tome on the subject (33 Revolutions Per Minute) - recently mentioned how the lyrics of Dizzee Rascal’s 2009 single, Dirtee Cash, seem particularly prescient given recent events (“Let me take you down to London city, where the attitude’s bad and the weather is shitty”). Dizzee probably has enough influence to become some sort of figurehead for the disaffected, though as his stock rises, how long can he really connect to the feelings of the people? Hip-hop artists generally start their careers stressing how much like us they are, but that attitude often changes when sponsorship, sexual attention and dollar signs come calling. Over the coming months, it will be interesting to see what comes through from new and exciting artists.

It could be argued that the power of song has been diminished, but perhaps this is only the case in the capitalist, commercialised west. When citizens took to the streets of Cairo earlier this year to protest about the reign of Hosni Mubarak, singers armed with acoustic guitars rallied the crowds into the small hours. The protest movement is still relevant after all. Maybe it’s only in times of real strife that people feel the need to articulate their frustrations in such a way. It just seems a shame that in the western world, it’s a tradition that’s falling by the wayside.

Geidi Primes

Grimes - Geidi Primes
released 8 August 2011 on No Pain in Pop

On ‘Zoal, Face Dancer’, the third track on this record, Claire Boucher (who ostensibly is Grimes) sings, “everybody thinks that I’m boring” in a crystal clear tone, completely unobscured by other voices. This is a rarity on Geidi Primes - the other main example being in the same song: “everybody knows that I’m an island” - and the considered exposure of this line, not to mention the lyric itself, is very telling in the wider context of the record.

Grimes specialises in the kind of woozy, dirty, “chillwave”-inspired pop made by the likes of Tune-Yards and Toro Y Moi. Geidi Primes was originally released as a free download and cassette last year, but is now being granted an official UK release by No Pain In Pop. Her sound is an intriguing one. There is a lo-fi quality to many of the tracks, often interspersed with moments of gorgeous purity. She also makes frequent use of layered vocals, which - aforementioned example aside - tend to be swathed in buckets of reverb. So much reverb, in fact, that the lyrics themselves are often indecipherable.

The oscillation between differing degrees of fidelity, the shrouding of the vocals, and the impenetrable song titles (‘Sardaukar Levenbrech’, ‘Feyd Rautha Dark Heart’) all hint at a fragile character, one who is nervous about putting their art on display for public consumption. It seems unlikely to be an accident that the lines you can deduce are those which convey an insular, insecure disposition. This sort of masking has rarely been seen since Liz Fraser made her songs purposely impenetrable in the latter days of Cocteau Twins.

The album is brimming with some inventive flourishes. ‘Sardaukar Levenbrech’ has a real East Asian feel to it - a motif that also crops up in ‘Gambang’ and ‘Venus In Fleurs’ - and ‘Shadout Mapes’ seems to herald the arrival of some kind of ghostly spirit. Overall, there’s an unsettling mood to the whole record - like a sinister, nightmarish version of Washed Out - which is aided by the adroit use of synths and sparse beats.

The bad news, however, is that often the songs themselves are found wanting. Tracks frequently trundle aimlessly, devoid of hooks, strong melodies or anything to really get your teeth into and inspire repeat listens. A few plays through and it all begins to blend into a soupy fug, and although by no means unpleasant, the appeal of breathy and ethereal mood pieces begins to wane surprisingly quickly.

There is an unshakeable feeling that Geidi Primes is only half-finished, and a fully realised version where the songs were properly fleshed out would be thoroughly rewarding. For the moment, we’re left with incomplete concepts, snatches of inspiration, and a performer hiding behind a cloak of effects. That said, we can’t pretend we weren’t warned by the lady herself. Her insecurities manifest themselves throughout the record, and while certainly not boring, Grimes would be advised to have the courage of her convictions, and follow her ideas to fruition.

Citizen Helene EP

Citizen Helene - Citizen Helene EP
released 8 August 2011 on Fair Maiden Records

There’s a fine line between obscurity and fame. The history of music is littered with artists who toiled to no avail for years before hitting on that winning formula or lucky break that propelled them into the spotlight. Consider Seasick Steve, the bluesman who hopped railroad cars and struggled in poverty for much of his life before becoming everybody’s favourite homemade guitar-playing grandfather (his guitar was homemade, not him… oh, never mind).

This line of thinking seems especially relevant when considering the fate of Hélène Bradley – aka Citizen Helene – because it’s difficult not to root for her and feel she’s only one favourable Radio 2 playlist meeting away from the mainstream. With her shimmering melodies and honey-coated vocals, the most obvious comparison here is Rumer, herself an artist who spent a decade under the radar before enjoying commercial success.

The four tracks that make up the Citizen Helene EP showcase a rare and somewhat anachronistic talent. Despite originally hailing from Bridport in Dorset, her unfussy folk-tinged ballads would be more suited to1970s Los Angeles. This isn’t to say Citizen Helene is stuck in the past; her pure voice and clear diction may bring to mind Karen Carpenter or Mama Cass, but there are shades of contemporary pop and plenty of invention packed into the EP’s ten minutes.

Opener, PS I Don’t Love You – apparently inspired by spotting broadcaster Mark Lamarr at a Zombies gig – is short but sweet; an irresistible mix of cool bossa nova rhythms and gorgeous, double-tracked vocals that ends on an eyebrow-raising chord. Sunday Morning Light and ‘Til Tomorrow are simple yet effective with sumptuous chord changes, simple finger picking and vocals that sound like the sun breaking through the clouds. Despite the fact you’ll have heard lots of music like this before, there’s something addictive about Citizen Helene, which comes from the soul-baring clarity of her voice and the sheer quality of the songwriting.

The EP’s final track, Stephen Fry, is a tongue-in-cheek ode to the tweet-happy polymath (“She talks about you all the time / Though she knows you play for the other side”) which is slightly at odds with the previous trio of tracks. However, what could easily be trite or ham-fisted is rescued by a marvellous string arrangement, courtesy of The Memory Band’s Sarah Scutt.

As statements of intent go, Citizen Helene really is a fantastic taster of things to come. It’s likely to be a slow-burner than something that immediately grabs you, its weaving melodies seep into your skin over multiple listens and before you know it, you’re singing your own paean to Stephen Fry in the shower (that’s not Stephen Fry in the shower, its… oh, never mind).

If there were to be one criticism, it’s that these four tracks are very much underpinned by some – admittedly rather fine – acoustic guitar work, and while that’s more than sufficient for an EP, Citizen Helene may need to spread her wings a little farther over the course of an entire album. However, at a time when the temptation is to throw everything including the kitchen sink when producing a record, it’s extremely refreshing to hear songs which are largely unadorned and haven’t an ounce of spare fat on them. A wonderful voice and a real talent has been discovered – highly recommended.