Kula Shaker drummer prepares for 2007 world tour (excludes America)

US Visas were denied because of some Nazi business, apparently.

11 Jun 2007 19:00	Òran Mór	Glasgow, Scotland
12 Jun 2007 19:00	Manchester Academy 3 *SOLD OUT*	Manchester
13 Jun 2007 19:00	Hoxton Bar & Grill *SOLD OUT*	London
15 Jun 2007 19:00	Bush Hall *SOLD OUT*	London
16 Jun 2007 19:00	Thekla *SOLD OUT*	Bristol
17 Jun 2007 19:00	Rescue Rooms *SOLD OUT*	Nottingham
22 Jun 2007 12:00	Bilbao BBK Live 2007	Bilbao,Spain
14 Jul 2007 8:00	Festival Cultura Quente	Caldas de Reis, Spain
28 Jul 2007 0:00	Fuji Rock Festival 2007	Japan

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Phil Spector Trial: Day 9 - defense prepares Mental Health plea

The Montrose Avenue return!

When we wrote about the comeback of not-that-great-in-the-first-place Manc simpletons Northen Uproar, we thought 388 MySpace friends and a wince worthy tour schedule was as bad as it got. We were wrong, so very wrong. Try 88 friends and listing your record label as ‘Major’ despite the fact the band effectively died in a pool of messy afterbirth.

The Montrose Avenue came into public view back in 1998 as a Byrds cover band, singing songs to please ladies - in American accents. Like The Feeling, but a bit more gay and without (as much as we hate to say this) any decent songwriters on board. They were pretty, ignoring the keyboard Nosferatu in the pic above but still, that’s not the point. The point is, they were shit. Evidence can be heard on their MySpace page but also, traced by the fact that one member joined the Stereophonics briefly and one decided to go to a radio station and promote decent bands rather than their own.

So there’s new tracks! Ring the victory bell! When Arctic Monkeys sing Fake Tales of San Francisco, you can’t help thinking of these poor lads – some of which have failed, some of which are obviously having a mid-life crisis in organising this unrequested reunion. Help them out. Or, on the other hand, just watch them flounder and hope that at least one has a guitar string long enough to attach to the top of his garage.

Hear them roar...

Guns N' Roses: album leak special!

Let’s get one thing straight here. Guns N' Roses used to be the dog’s bollocks. Even the UK live shows last year were pretty fucking special. But the recently leaked Chinese Democracy is a bloated, hideous pile of thick poodle-rocking wank that you might mistake for an albino anal projectile belonging to Justin Hawkins.

As a brief recap, this album has been delayed and pretty much a decade in the making. Secretly produced and mixed with Brian May solos in place of Slash, the odd bluesy snippet from recent live shows suggested that the new tracks might be good and might just see the light of day in our lifetime.

5 tracks have leaked online including Madagascar, The Blues, IRS, There Was A Time and Chinese Democracy. There’s another 5 floating about in various demo and live forms, these include Rhiad and the Bedouins, Oh My God, Catcher in The Rye, Better and Silkworms.

Chinese Democracy is best described as a hard rock, sample heavy record designed by a cretin with Fred Durst on vocal duties. There’s speedy riffs, swearing and 508 guitar solos but so many drums, needless grunts and aggression that it strips away any adoration you may have secretly saved for Axl Rose. Once a pencil thin rock rapunzel and all-round rock deity, Axl now is confused mess of ginger dreads singing karaoke rock in the worst possible way imaginable. He’s still got the voice and even though the trademark lilting swagger is encased within a spam flavoured Michelin Man flesh suit, Axl could still get away with being a twat and not doing an album for years because we remember Appetite For Destruction. Chinese Democracy has put an end to all of that.

In the words of the hip, still ‘very much with it’ jive-ass Axl, let’s break it down…

1. Better

Distorted guitar loop with Axl singing a lullaby in the background. 20 seconds in, angry Axl descends and poodle rock prevails. Could have easily been made in 1993, if Slash had left and the band were listening to Nickelback via a time machine.

2. Catcher In The Rye

It begins with a piano and could be November Rain but is something truly terrible. Like Jet with a gospel choir singing All Around The World by Oasis and Axl muttering about guns in a way that can only de described as senile and constipated.

3. Chinese Democracy

This is odd. Axl sounds like he’s in Slipknot and has eaten several cigars before doing the take. A bit grunge, a bit nu-metal and a bit spacey. The screaming riffs sound like some kind of alien mating call.

4. IRS

Lounge rock. Stompy half ballad, half mildly angry rock. The kind of puerile shit you’d expect Kelly Jones and his merry band of inbred fuckwits to come up with and call it genius. Includes the Ivor Novello award worthy lyric “what should I do If I gave my heart to you?”.

5. Madagascar

Marching horns introduce the lolloping protest song which babbles on about how Axl has lost his way, ‘so far from the shore’ and is the anthem which confirms that Axl needs to start speaking with the LA care home right away. There’s samples from famous leaders with hollow beats in the background. It’s ludicrous. Even more ludicrous than the Utah Saints shagging the KLF with Brian May touching himself as he prepares for the 306^th solo of the album. The title is nothing to do with the Disney film.

6. Oh My God

Demonic Axl is back. Or maybe Grotbags, we’re not sure. A nasty, punky cluster of ‘fuck you’ lyrics, monster voices and self indulgent solos. Sounds a bit like Marilyn Manson interspersed with bizarre, FM friendly rock riffs. Schizophrenic and very, very weird.

7. Rhiad & The Bedouins

No, it’s not the name of a Harry Potter spin off. This is the song that sounds closest to vintage Guns N' Roses. A rapid, swaggering beat and lots of wah wahs remind us of Welcome To The Jungle but then it runs out of steam, repeats itself and goes into a frickin’ ludicrous solo before sounding like EMF. A tragedy.

8. Silkworms

Has a bizarre near silent middle section. A bit Chili Peppers, a bit We Didn’t Start The Fire by Billy Joel. Apart from the lyric “what should I do with a bitch like you?” of course. Billy would never say that.

9. The Blues

Sad, if only for the fact that it’s actually an okay song murdered by Brian May doing another screaming solo over a piano and Axl singing in such an earnest tone that we want to kill him.

10. There Was A Time

There was. It was in 1989 on Sunset Strip in shitty bars that gave birth to the original Guns N' Roses. There Was A Time is so cringe-worthy, it’s beyond tragedy.

Northen Uproar return!

Or they did last month apparently and no one noticed.

They had a single in '95 called Rollercoaster? Remember? There's a jingle on XFM which promotes the 100 best indie anthems ever and then pokes fun at the Uproar?

I once saw them live in '96 at the Cavern in Exeter. The biggest thing they had to say was that the Manics' James Dean Bradfield was 'helping' them in the studio. They neglected to say the 'help' involved getting the teenagers booze and fags from the local Spar. Support band Brubaker were managed by the largely ignored third Gallagher brother Paul who, if we're being honest, had more of an interest in pies than Britpop. The two bands were trading off celebrity association in the Britpop zeitgeist, clambering over each other to snag groupies, fags and Haribo Starmix while Noel Gallagher was playing to 250,000 people at Knebworth.

Fast forward to today and a message dropped into my inbox talking of a live TV broadcast, new album and tour. I blinked with disbelief and read the email again. Aha. That's Sky channel 203, a 'tour' which actually means a single gig at the local Manchester Academy for six quid and an album on a label that may have been created by a Moss Side drug dealer. Of course, this isn't nice but, honestly, can comebacks like this really work?

I once stood in the pissing rain at Glastonbury to see Embrace play a stunning set in 1998, years later they became decorators and have now got a (sort of) credible job thanks to a songwriting leg up from friend Chris Martin. If you look closely he writes "I heart Embrace" beside the "Make Trade Fair" tattoo on his ankle. Anyway, the point is, that's a comeback backed by Mr Coldplay, Managing Director of perhaps the biggest band on earth. And that's at good as it gets! Playing forests, doing DJ sets in Camden and writing the World Cup Song! If I was Embrace, I'd ask for my paintbrush and buy back that Ford Transit.

But if you were Northen Uproar, why would even try and come back? We've got The Enemy and they're loads better thanks. Wouldn't you find it a bit embarrassing singing songs about rollercoasters you wrote when you were 18, ten years on? And what about the MySpace shame? The site appears to be managed by a roadie, or at least someone working in a profession which doesn't involve a computer keyboard. Also, and I'm not saying that every one of Lily Allen's 29 million MySpace minions turn up to every gig she does, but Northen Uproar have 388 friends at the time of writing. That's friends and family surely? If you want to do something charitable today, go to their site and read their Maxim Album of The Month review (1997) and see how they are, in their own words, "let loose and wild again". In the words of the Manc Grandaddy Shaun Ryder, we say "call the cops". Or maybe Harvey Goldsmith.

http://www.myspace.com/northernuproar

Babyshambles live at Camden Crawl

If you read last month's post about the Babyshambles Studio 88 gig, here's the pics and footage to go with the sweat soaked orgy which saw Kate Moss look on like a startled infant observing a mongolian clusterfuck for the first time.

If you haven't read the post, the gig was great but prematurely ended my Crawl session after a drum hit me on the head. Still, who gives a shit about missing The Bluetones eh?

See everything here: http://www.myspace.com/secretshowsuk

Or, my rubbish ones here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/8131741@N06/sets/72157600175423984/

Manic Street Preachers, Send Away The Tigers

The Manics never quite disappear from the radar, do they? After James Dean Bradfield released his recent solo album, you wondered whether the Manics would ever put out another album, let alone play another tour. The greatest hits has been and gone and there’s nothing more portentous than a solo album to signal the death of a rock band. It’s easy to imagine James travelling around the world, collecting vintage guitars and doing the odd cameo on a Super Furry Animals album. Likewise, you expect Nicky to pack up his mascara, guitar and Larkin paperbacks and disappear further into the depths of the Welsh countryside, popping back to civilization only to visit Sean’s up-market chippy…

But here they are, indie legends fighting for recognition once again in a musical landscape which hasn’t seen James, Nicky and Sean do anything truly remarkable since 1998’s slogan slathered This Is My Truth Tell Me Yours. Even first single Your Love Alone Is Not Enough harks back to 1998. The airy, giant larynx of Bradfield stomps out an epic chorus while Nicky and Nina from The Cardigans tweet away in the background, as delicate as Norah Jones’ backing singers. There’s a lyrical snatch of classic track You Stole The Sun From My Heart and it weighs heavy on the soul of anyone who has ever witnessed a Manics live show: an assault of riffs with hooks so big they threaten to pull your lip over your head, the scream of a vintage Les Paul guitar and a swirling, cross dressing bassist as your host. Nothing here manages to trigger the excitement once unleashed by a leopard skin Nicky slapping his bass to the opening marches of anything from Everything Must Go. No amount of slogans, make up or revisiting GNR riffs for Manic devotees can save the bulk of the track listing from the Radio 2 playlist. Title track Send Away The Tigers is as close to cock-rock as the Manics have ever come. At points it sounds like The Darkness and occasionally like Bon Jovi. It’s an anthem which only Jeremy Clarkson could love.

Nobody was expecting a revolution, but the will to fight, to be different and create a record to upset your parents disappeared a decade ago. Imperial Body bags is a token war comment, but there’s nothing deranged, no talk of serial killers, taking over the world or the death of your babies. Whether Nicky Wire has anything left to fight for or a controversial bone left in his body is up for debate. Album closer Working Class Hero is a slow, bluesy, desperate cry for help and you can’t escape the feeling that the cover comes directly from the heart of a tired and worn Nicky Wire, changing gear to become more like Neil Young plotting a course for a band that look as dated as the Holy Bible era reverse ‘Rs’ that adorn the album cover.