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Album Review: Kula Shaker, Strangefolk

2007 is the year of the comeback. From The Verve to The Spice Girls, there’s millions of rose-tinted rupees to be had. A quick tour, a new album, a book about the bust-ups and that’s a few million quid in the bank for every member, even the drummer. You can imagine the record label meetings, hear the applause and smell the cigars. It’s an offer they couldn’t refuse.

Sneaking in the back door of the reformation round table summit, like parents gate crashing their own kids’ house party, are Kula Shaker. Kula Shaker are best known for singing songs about Indian deities, covering Deep Purple and admitting to the NME that they’d love to have flaming swastikas on stage. 1996 album ‘K’ was a huge hit along with breakthrough single Tattva. Their sitar embossed indie anthems were good enough for everyone to ignore the fact that front man Crispian Mills was the nineties equivalent of Johnny Borrell – a self obsessed fool who would cry if you laughed at his jacket made from a magical flying carpet.

Nothing much has changed. “I’m a dic, a dic” sings Crispian on ‘Great Dictator (Of The Free World)’ before finishing the lyric: “I’m a dictator of the free world”. Pompous to the point of self combustion, the title track sees Crispian burbling about internet pornography and stealing Stephen Hawking’s voice box in an attempt to mimic Radiohead’s spooky classic ‘Fitter Happier’. Then it’s back to business as usual. Huge organs, fringe swinging choir boy cock rock and Indian chants are locked in place to keep fans happy but they’re as stale and rank as an ancient onion bhaje. ‘Shadowlands’ is a cringe worthy ballad about birth stars that sounds so terrible, you’ll wonder why Crispian didn’t pack this in and speak with Andrew Lloyd Webber about auditioning for the role of Joseph.

EXTRA: Just in case you didn't believe that Crispian still likes to dress up as a fool, look at these pics from a recent music video. We like the panda costume best.

Hear the new tracks here.

Bizzare Love Triangle: New Order split

In a spat that has turned slightly comical, Peter Hook has said he's left New Order and the band are no more. He's off to play bass for Perry Farrell from Jane's Addiction in new band Satellite Party. Hear the interview here.

The remaining duo, Bernard and Stephen have no such side projects and were relying on New Order Christmas gigs to fund their pension plan. After all, doing the recent ad for Indesit washing machines must mean things aren't all that rosy.

They've issued a statement, while Hooky keeps posting hilarious updates on his MySpace page.

“After 30 years in a band together we are very disappointed that Hooky has decided to go to the press and announce unilaterally that New Order have split up. We would have hoped that he could have approached us personally first. He does not speak for all the band, therefore we can only assume he no longer wants to be a part of New Order.”

The verdict? New Order are/were great but Hooky is ambitious and wants to do more. And who can blame him - he's always been at least 2638729 times more rock and roll than Bernard.

Jack Peñate, Jamie Woon: Live at the Institute of Contemporary Arts, London

There’s something strange about going to a gig at London’s plush Institute of Contemporary Arts. The first thing you see is a stack of modern-art postcards and a 4 foot pink Dalek with diamante breasts. Reporting to reception, the bohemian staff consult computers before allowing you to enter the building. It’s a million miles away from Camden’s scuzzy receptions, boiled ham bouncers and cloakroom assistants with eyes so vacant and yawns so big, there’s room for a jacket and bag in their faces alone.

But then, this ICA gig is part of the iTunes Festival – populated by competition winners, plaid-shirted scenesters and the media. And the frontboy from Mumm-Ra with a girl who had seemingly been dipped in chip fat just before the gig. Within weeks, each iTunes Festival gig is available as an official iTunes download - it's genius. Expect Michael Eavis and record labels to do the same at Glastonbury next year. Practically every day during July, everyone from Amy Winehouse to Paul McCartney is getting in on the act. On July 26th, it’s the turn of home-brew guitar hunk Jack Peñate and his crooning buddy Jamie Woon. Together, Jack looks like a cartoon lumberjack and Jamie, like Ryan Phillippe circa Cruel Intentions.

Jamie Woon comes from the same humble DIY beginnings as Jack Peñate but takes the home grown bedroom troubadour ethos to new levels by going completely solo. Yes, he’s another talented public schoolboy with an acoustic ambition but instead of flailing around the stage singing about LDN in educated cockney, Jamie sits on a black plastic chair with a box of tricks on his lap.

The box is drum machine, synth and sampler all in one. And just as you expect the set to begin with Jamie whining while his guitar gently weeps, the guitar sulks, stage right and Jamie starts beatboxing. Yes, beatboxing. Not like some kind of garage disco Dalek you understand, but slow, considered bass slaps and an occasional cymbal tap. Then they’re looped, layered and mixed with Jamie’s soulful voice and backing vocals which are sampled, looped and distorted to give the effect of a full gospel choir. It’s like listening to Stevie Wonder minus his piano in mono, then stereo with a world music CD playing in the background which features bongos and voices of whales. For all high street buskers who strum a tuneless guitar to a pan-pipe recreation of Celine Dion’s My Love Will Go On, Jamie is an inspiration.

The song collection veers from Jamie Cullum style ballads to freakish bluesy dubstep and a haunted, tribal remix of Wayfaring Stranger – a song Jamie picked up at American summer music camp, before deciding to do a slo-mo rinse and slinging his spooky beats all over it. And it works. As Jack thanks Jamie, he admits “my voice is a cornflake compared to his, which is like smooth chocolate”.

Jack takes to the stage, still high on his new single Torn on The Platform crashing in to the Top Ten this month. Bouncing around, swinging guitar and swearing like a trooper, Jack – after a year of playing to anyone that would listen - is now an official paid up member of the Why Don’t You? music club, currently chaired by Kate Nash but also featuring the likes of Kid Harpoon as stars in the making.

Ripping through tracks that make up the forthcoming album, there’s rarely a pause, except when Jack charges, slips, head butts his guitarist and falls on the floor. “I’m glad it’s a home crowd, I wouldn’t get away with that in Hull!”.

Spit at Stars is followed by live faves Learning Lines and Torn on The Platform but Have I Been a Fool? and We’ll Be Here get a great reception. A supersonic, punk version of Beats International hit Dub Be Good To Me is wedged in the middle of the set while Jack cautiously does the rap bits before retreating to his trademark guitar spasms. There’s a fixed grin permanently etched on his face. “Last time we played here, we had people up on the stage, that’s been spoiled by these” he says, looking at the barriers which prevent the communal stage jives of life before the Top Ten smash, before the NME cover and before the celebrity onlookers.

Then, after the hits, the jokes and the jubilant swearing, Jack runs off stage, guitar in hand and leaps into a cab headed to Hoxton to play a late night gig, preaching to another set of converted devotees.

Pics here, thanks to Will Rolls.

Maps, One Night Only, The Author live at The Borderline, London

The Author were the first band on stage. Hailed (by the BBC) as the “best band in Jersey”, the band arrived on stage with gaffa taped guitars and a lead singer who managed to look like a Cooper Temple Clause member and Gok Wan at the same time. We suspect the first thing he purchased on his trip to London was a haircut from Shoreditch. The Author desperately want success and they’ve hedged their bets well, stealing riffs from any band that have bothered the charts in the last year. One song manages to go from Bloc Party sparseness to rapid-fire Brianstorm esque Monkeys and then goes all Klaxons for the siren packed money shot. There’s lots of shouting and pointing but it all looks a bit desperate, like a band of pissed and angry cross dressing tramps. The Author plead with the nonplussed audience, claiming they used to live in London to gather support. Then they try to gloss over the fact that while Cock Wand (Gok Wan, whatever) was getting his hair done, the others clearly raided Top Shop on Oxford Street with the aid of an in-store StyleAdvisor. Even uber enthusiastic indie-Yoda Steve Lamacq decided to fuck off until the next band arrived.

Hear The Author’s great rock and roll swindling here

Next up were One Night Only from York. A mess of hair, twee guitars, synths and sad lyrics mixed with euphoric sounds. We like them a lot. They could have come from the 80’s and perhaps supported Deacon Blue had they been born in time. Managing to fuse piano and mid-song line dance shuffles with the kind of harmonies we’re used to hearing from The View, the few songs available on their MySpace are instant classics. The only downside is that Just For Tonight could be Jeremy Clarkson’s favourite new ‘driving’ anthem, but we’ll forget about that for the moment.

Hear One Night Only here

Mercury nominated Maps are a weird but beautiful bunch. The set is full of new tracks from their We Can Create album. Delicate synths get louder and louder, with airy and vacant vocals giving way to pounding drums. It’s like Air having eaten a kilo of skunk and stolen the drummer who does the live percussion for Amerie’s One Thing. Tonight, even with the smoking ban, there’s a wiff of Class B spliffage in the Borderline. Even without spliffage, the sound of Maps makes your brain float and wraps you in the sonic equivalent of one of those comfy silver anoraks marathon runners get at the end of a race. Tonight, with the backdrop of a jellyfish in space, everyone orbits with them. Even indie-yoda.

Get spliff, wear spliff, fly

One music festival you'll want to avoid

It's a festival of music based around ancient TV show Dallas, motorcycles, air balloons, monster trucks and a kids beauty contest. Yes, like the scary one in Little Miss Sunshine. But possibly involving Patrick Duffy as a judge.

We found this poster in the south of France - click to see the big version. We're assuming that Larry Hagman isn't really involved in any country dancing as the poor man can barely walk. If any of this makes any sense to anyone, please comment.

Kula Shaker add new instrument to 07 tour

Look at the size of it etc! Playing at the ICA this month as part of the iTunes Festival series of gigs, the born-again Kula Shaker line up features the original drummer who we previously shamed here and Crispian Mills. Crispian hasn't aged a day since 1997 and happily wears the same clothes too, meaning the pic below could easily be a new desktop image for XFM housewives.


Thanks to Mallinsons for helping us out with the pics