Herman Dune – Try To Think About Me

Herman Dune are an anti-folk band based in Paris/Berlin/New York. They embody that genre’s international elasticity – they are pop, folk and indie rock – at once everything you could possibly want from a band and at the same time there’s nothing you can put your finger on to define them completely. From new album Next Year in Zion, this is a melodious pop song pure and simple, but the lyrics hold layers of meaning and emotion that will fill your heart with love, longing, loneliness and lust.

Pumajaw – Horseshoe Nail

Pumajaw describe their sound as “ancient melodies mutating into psychedelic laments and ecstasies.” Whilst many try to raise the buried pagan gods and goddesses of folk’s past, few do psychedelic fervour as convincingly as Pinkie Maclure and John Willis. Listening to this passionately psychotic track from superb new album Curiosity Box, you’re almost persuaded that the duo have lived through some serious medieval shit and magicked themselves into the future to make sure we hear all about how profoundly dark and terrifying it was.

Major Matt Mason USA – Rockstar

Following on the alternative/anti-folk theme, New York’s Major Matt Mason USA is the perfect embodiment of anti-folk’s refusal to pander to the cliches of rock and roll posturing. Hell, he doesn’t even want to be a rock star anymore – but as this lyrical lament shows, he really can’t help it, even if he does sound a bit like Kermit the Frog on downers.

Les Enfant Bastard – Michael Jackson

Here, Edinburgh based lo-fi genius Les Enfant Bastard is trying to convince us that although he appears to be a skinny white bloke, he is in fact the facially-challenged post-black moonwalking nutjob who refers to himself as the King of Pop. By the end of the song you’ll be convinced of one thing at least – he is equally insane – but thankfully for us, in a way that results in this piece of perverse brilliance, instead of the turgid excuse for an audio-turd that was Earth Song.

Amusement Parks on Fire – Alafoss Exit

This is a leaving song, a goodbye song, a ‘moving on to greater things and not looking back no matter how much you want to’ song. This is Amusement Parks on Fire – their name itself a stunning visual image, this particular track being the musical equivalent. The past, the well-trodden path, is up in flames, and there’s only one way to go – forward into the unknown.

Herman Dune – Next Year in Zion

David-Ivar Herman Dune claims that this is the first album he’s recorded when he was happy, and the instrumentation bears him out; upbeat brass bubbles under the surface, Dave Tattersall of the Wave Pictures contributes clean, virtuoso lead guitar lines and bandmate Neman’s clip-clopping percussion would give Eeyore a spring in his step if someone surreptitiously added it to his iPod. Yet this is a record characterised by absence; brother André has gone off to start a new life as Stanley Brinks and with him have gone “the dots from the u”. The lead track is named My Home Is Nowhere Without You and the mournful Someone Knows Better Than Me with its naive disappointment at ready-made Ingmar Bergman obituaries, seems like it might also be a disguised eulogy. On its predecessor, Giant, André’s songs were the dark, brooding counterpoints to David-Ivar’s home-sick, love-struck but playful Dylan/Cohen wordplay. On Next Year in Zion there is only the latter, and enjoyable as that is, the absence is felt.

The Aliens – Luna

The Aliens clearly believe in the art form of the album – not as a collection of separate, well-defined singles but as an epic, sprawling magnum opus of Pink Floyd proportions. And Luna is a retro beast, each song reminiscent of something from the past – whether it be Theremin’s fragile Brian Wilson harmonies, the Neil Young guitar sprawl of Boats, or the psychedelic space odyssey of Blue Mantle. As well as replicating other sounds they reference their own; lead single Magic Man is the playful – but logicial – bridge between this and previous album Astronomy for Dogs. But there’s a sense that the Aliens are too busy playing at the past to truly find their own voice, perhaps leaving the casual listener short of patience to wait for the tunes to reveal themselves. Their hardcore fans however, will be delirious at the treasures contained here.

Rozi Plain – Inside Over Here

There is a problem when trying to review an album like this, which woos you with its easy charms, which stills your spirit with its banjos rippling like a bubbling stream. Rozi Plain’s catherine wheel vocal harmonies set your mind a-wandering and you begin to recline into the sound of her voice and melodies like you would a warm bath surrounded by candles and shared with a lover. Plain, the latest signing to Fife’s Fence Records, has made an album of such charm that there lies a problem in critiquing it effectively. Let me bathe in it, instead, let me reflect. Oh OK then, some facts: it was produced by a handful of folk including Fence brothers Kenny and Gordon Anderson, and a few friends from Bristol where she’s from; and it’s bloody good. There, now let me close my eyes and chill.

All written for the October 2008 issue of The Skinny Magazine.

Herman Düne – Giant

I
knew little about Herman Düne before last summers’ ‘Hey You, Get Off My
Pavement’(other than having heard the sublime ‘Not on Top’) but their
performance, led by the endearingly goofy David-Ivar, convinced me
right away that they were something special.  David-Ivar’s
songs are effortlessly, instantly memorable. From the first single, ‘I
Wish That I Could See You Soon’ onwards, their new album (or in David
Ivar’s Swedish-Chef-from-The-Muppets-accent “alboom”) alternates
between songs penned by he and his brother Andre (who sadly no longer
tours with the band). Whilst David-Ivar’s songs are lyrically playful,
melodically simple and wear his heart on their sleeves, Andre’s songs
are a stranger, more exotic breed which makes this an uneven but
fascinating listen. The album’s varied instrumentation, including a
brass section and girl group the Woo-Woos on backing vocals, reflect
the family’s multinational background. But it’s that other, more
accessible and humorous side of Bob Dylan that comes to mind with
David-Ivar’s songs, as well as nods to Leonard Cohen with use of a
jew’s harp and a mention of his famous blue raincoat. There is a
noticeable theme of long-distance relationships running through songs
such as ‘Take Him Back To New York City’ and ‘When the Water Gets Cold
and Freezes on the Lake’, songs that cheer the heart but also leave a
sense of sadness and loss.