There’s nothing like making the grand entrance to impress people, but few do it in such style as Humble Pie’s Jerry Shirley when he drove to Steve Marriott’s country home on Friday. As the brakes of Jerry’s mini failed in the entrance to the drive we gracefully smashed into and through the newly-repaired gate and glided to a regal halt half on the lawn!

A barefooted Steve came hurtling through a gateway from the rear garden and pulled up in his tracks when he saw what had happened. Jerry was attempting to halt the car which had started rolling again in the direction of Steve’s car . “I thought it was a scooter crash, we’re always getting them out here. We keep having to rush out with cups of tea to revive people,” Steve gasped. “Are you okay? Right, one new gate needed and two shots of liquid refreshment for medicinal purposes.” on that practical note we filed into one of Steve’s two cottages to find his wife, Jenny, making tea amid four dogs, three kittens, and two geese. This, it seems, was only part of the Marriott menagerie.

Steve Marriott had been living in the country for almost three years now and Jerry thinks it has made a new man of the one-time looner. “He’s much calmer now, different,” Jerry said on the way down. “He’s changed, but not that much… he’s more himself. He doesn’t get moods, he’s just back into being the real Steve.” He has virtually finished with drink and accessories, preferring cups of tea and the fresh air. Uppermost in Steve’s mind that day is the group’s first album with A&M. Titled simply Humble Pie, it is an important first and a lot of hard work has gone into it.

In my opinion,the strongest material was delivered here through Steve’s career! An amazing sound too done by Glyn Johns. This album contains everything..the diversity it has all kinds of grooves, from the blistering opener “Live With Me” and on. Here you Get some blues, soul, some rockin stuff .to acoustic ballads and at the same time it all falls in place. All members contributing on the song writing,and Greg Ridley closes so beautifully with his “Sucking On The Sweet Wine”, which he is also doing the lead vocal.

‘Live With Me’ on side one, called This Side, is the type of thing you might expect to hear during a jazz festival when the sun is high and the atmosphere is peaceful. Pete Frampton’s organ begins and is joined by Jerry on drums and then the guitars of Steve and Greg Ridley. Pete controls the organ fluctuation very well, taking the crescendos down to a soft melody very neatly. It’s a relaxing number with little bursts of energy.

Steve: “That’s a stage number. All those things we kept them like we do on stage.”

‘Only A Roach’ could well be a modern country-and-western number in its approach. The vocal harmonies are used to repeat lines at the end of verses and then sing along together. Not the sort of thing I would have expected from Humble Pie, ‘One-Eyed Trouse-Snake Rumba‘. If you don’t know what the creature in the title is, write to me for the answer in a plain, sealed envelope! A fair old bit of rock and roll with two voices taking alternate parts.

‘Earth and Water Song’ has quiet vocals and thoughtful lyrics with an uncomplicated backing. The acoustic guitar, tapping cymbals, light drumming and flowing organ create a pleasing effect. “I am the earth and she is my water” goes one line, then there’s a short piece of louder instrumental work which becomes more prominent during the number, though it’s never obtrusive. The other side is called That Side; it is generally much louder ‘I’m Ready’ is all very heavy and has Pete yelling over a frenzied riff. A lot of bass drum and cymbals and a fine contrasting lead guitar with lots of guts going into the whole thing. ‘Theme From Skint’ is almost a folk song. It’s like a cross between Bob Dylan and the Rolling Stones being folksy. It gets more pounding after a time and this is because it leads straight into…Rock On.  ‘See You Later Liquidator’ which is no doubt a reference to a certain period in the Pie’s recent career. It is musically violent and takes over as the second part of an idea that began during the preceding track. It builds and builds to a walloping crash of thunder at the end after holding the same course but progressing in volume. ‘Red Light Mamma, Red Hot!’ Much heaviness and pounderama abounds here. Stomp, stomp go the drums, the guitars crack away and Pete belts the lyrics out in fine fashion. A nice guitar passage is combined with fierce drumming and a forceful bass line.

‘Sucking On The Sweet Vine’ is the final track. “A love song” is not quite the right description, though it is basically just that. It is in some ways similar to ‘Only A Roach’ though not so involved. The theme is sadness and desolation, and the music is complimentary though very much of today. Steve: “Greg wrote it and sung it. He needed a band where he could come out of himself.”

The Album over, we talked about its chances, which I rate highly, and Steve commented: “I think it’s the best thing I’ve ever been involved in. What I’m knocked out about is the clarity, that’s down to Glyn Johns, the engineer.

“It’s not just a thin sound to get the clarity, he gets a nice loud sound at the same time. I’ll stand up for this album to anyone any day of the week. an album should be like a stage show.” From the “Life and Times of Steve Marriott”

We rejoined Jerry and Jenny and the dogs who were playing football (honestly) on the lawn. The group had a gig that evening at Southampton Top Rank and getting there was proving a bit of a problem because of Jerry’s crash, the fact that Steve oughtn’t to drive at night (says Jenny) and they had to pick up Pete at his home in Hampstead en route. So a mini cab was called.

Graham Parker has lost none of his bitter finesse with words over the years. I have always seen him as an English answer to Dylan. This album does not disappoint on that score with its unexpected imagery and cynical twists. Musically though things have consistently improved as he experiments more, takes more risks by sometimes using less, and trusting himself to produce.
Don’t get me wrong: his harder soul albums are still to be heard blaring from my speakers frequently, but the sweeping sadness of tracks like ‘The Other Side of the Reservoir’ are there daily. Part Van Morrison, Part Stones but all Graham Parker.

This is an album of renewed vigour so why does he still not get renewed recognition?, Not even a slot on Jools Holland, “Don’t Tell Columbus” crackles with desperation and redemption sung with rich, complicated emotional power. And hooks, lots and lots of hook. It is unhealthy, perhapes even obscene, that someone should be able to come up with an album this good this far into their career.

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TFS is the new band formed by Gareth Liddiard and Fiona Kitschin (from Australia’s epic art punk psych maniacs The Drones) with Lauren Hammel (High Tension) on drums, and Erica Dunn (Harmony / Palm Springs) playing guitars, keys and other gadgets.

We’re not sure why so many Aussies got bit by the bad-band-name-bug, but Tropical Fuck Storm were certainly not exempt from the plague. If you can pardon their unfortunate moniker, however, and focus on their music, you just might find yourself smitten with their manic psych-rock.

from TFS album A Laughing Death In Meatspace and available on TFS Records/Mistletone

They released a totally bonkers-in-all-the-right-ways record in 2018, the weird and wild A Laughing Death in Meatspace. Fans of the now-defunct The Drones might recognize Tropical Fuck Storm’s lead singer, Gareth Liddiard, who was a founding member of the former band back in 1997. Liddiard is still working with Drones mate Fiona Kitschin for this new project TFS, but it’s a completely different animal. They recruited two Melbourne vets,  and now it seems like the four of them might be Australia’s version of Diarrhea Planet, a kind of mythical live act and purveyor of noisy pop-punk. TFS aren’t for everyone, but if they’re for you, we’re pretty sure it won’t take you long to get on board.

Tropical Fuck Storm – You Let My Tyres Down Recorded Live – Paste Studios – New York, NY

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“I’m so scared to get out of here / But I really want to get out of here.” It’s a line from “Strange Light”—a late standout from the sophomore LP by The Goon Sax and I’m not sure there’s a lyric that better sums up the feelings of late adolescence. Those prime years when your conflicting instincts are all fucking with each other, and the endless possibilities preached at you from childhood become paralyzing instead of promising. Growing pains and dawning realizations abound, but it’s in this mess that we finally wind up meeting ourselves. It’s an experience you might have all over again after listening to We’re Not Talking, the latest effort from the Brisbane trio. The band’s first album, filled with achingly familiar suburban references like Target and sweaty-palmed hand-holding, was released when Louis Forster, James Harrison and Riley Jones were just 17. This makes Talking, released two years later, an interesting crystallization of growing up. Taken out of context, a line like “I never knew what love meant / And I still don’t,” would be grounds for a heartbreaking ballad, but here it’s just a passing observation, a scanning self-analysis on the way to being an adult. For The Goon Sax, growing up sounds pretty good.

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Melbourne’s Terry has perfected a blasé, disaffected take on indie pop that smartly avoids cynicism and sarcasm. Last year’s I’m Terry, their third album in three years, is another strong collection of unassuming pop hits—often flat and plodding in that Australian way but always richly melodic, and with a warm homemade aesthetic that reflects the modesty typically found down under. Terry’s one of those bands that could’ve existed at any point in the last 30 or 40 years—they would’ve fit right in on Flying Nun—but are also always unmistakably themselves.

I’m Terry. 
They are Terry. Three LPs in three years that continue to fulfil their promise of their first 7”s: one moment a witty “art” punk Wire scramble, the next moment a dumb “pub” punk oi stomper, the next a beautifully orchestrated shimmering soundscape of rudimentary melodies cascading over one another; the point being these are disparate but always succinct songs soaked in melodies, vocal harmonies that sing-song verses and terrace chant choruses, all peppered with flourishes of synths, horns and violins.
They perfected this almost immediately, and each record is a masterful fulfillment, and so…I’m Terry.
There are so few bands attempting lyrics along these lines, so it’s worth to point toward them, as this is Terry: please be kind. We are spared the righteous indignation of identity politicians, but the empathy here for those under the boot of the colony, of the fortress, of the rich and privileged, and the disappointment and disgust at the effects of what we are calling toxic masculinity informs their more aggressive lambast, and this is delivered in an overt lyricism that doesn’t disintegrate into preach or self loathing lamentation.
There’s an unbridled joy in Terry at the experience of making songs in times they are clearly contrary to, the empathy and the pleas for kindness and all that… I’m Terry is an expression of a humbling kindness, and 2018 needs more Terry! 

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2019 is the going to be a good year for Australian band Sweater Curse’s moment. After a year of clever youngsters delivering some of the best indie-rock music, I’m ready for more, and this Brisbane trio is ready to provide. They’ve yet to release their debut LP—or even an EP—but their singles, especially the regretful “Can’t See You Anymore,” were enough to grab our attention. If they opt to release full-length material in 2019, they’re bound to attract fans of artists like Forth Wanderers, Camp Cope and Snail Mail. But Sweater Curse aren’t copy-cats—their walls of sound, tongue-and-cheek phrasing and vocal teamwork are entirely their own. Writing songs that have been described as ‘slightly depressing but still groovy’ and ‘introspective, slightly sparkly indie-rock’ the band carved out a niche for themselves with a throwback feel.

‘Mon’s Song’ is the new standout from Sweater Curse, one of Brisbane’s best new bands. It’s 90s crunch meets millenial angst for fans of CAMP COPE or even City Calm Down. Brisbane has a rich history of amazing indie rock and you are carrying the torch with class. They’re drawn to the honesty of the Australian indie-rock sound citing acts like The Smith Street Band to Jess Locke and everyone in between as big influences. They write about moments in their lives and relatable experiences and situations, extending their domestic experience into song form.

Band Members

Chris | Monica | Rei

Music written and performed by Sweater Curse

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First rule of band names: make sure your name doesn’t contain the genre of music you play. The band’s colossal, eccentric pop/rock sound is undeniably psychedelic and it’s kind of cheesy to have the genre explicitly in the title. After giving them a pass for a corny, playfully ridiculous name, you can let yourself wander in their magical, sweeping soundscapes. Singles like “Social Candy” and “Marmalade March” invoke equal amounts of high-spirited fun and virtuoso musicianship. Listening to their music requires listeners to abandon their inhibitions and embark on whatever gleaming psych-pop joyride they offer. Their sound is accessible and melodious enough to appeal to pop/rock fans while their musical proficiency and wacky euphoria will also gel with diehard psych fans.

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Band Members
Jack McEwan,
Luke Parish,
Danny Caddy,
Luke Reynolds

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Sydney-based Flowertruck’s debut album, which was released in March 2018, is called “Mostly Sunny”, and there’s not a more perfect description for their ample, radiant synth-rock. Their sound, much like Phantastic Ferniture’s or Rolling Blackouts Coastal Fever’s, is distinctly Aussie, with an emphasis on hooks and rock-solid melodies. The band says their album is “a valuable addition to any discerning motorist’s passenger-side seat or glove compartment,” and it is, but it’s also primed for beach-side boomboxes. As you sludge through a lousy North American winter, this record will conjure images of our friends in the Southern Hemisphere soaking up the sun. There’s enough darkness in the world—why not treat yourself to something light and easy?

Enough For Now is the first single from our debut EP, ‘Mostly Sunny’.

Band Members
Charles, Sarah, Will.

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Few artists can quieten a room quite like Angelo De Augustine. You cannot help but admire the intimacy of this LA-based singer-songwriter, from his hushed whisper-vocals to the gorgeous finger-picked acoustic guitar, he can make a music venue feel like a living room, demanding the audience’s full attention by simply refusing to raise his voice. When the news of Augustine’s new record, “Tomb”, hit, it was announced that he was working with Thomas Bartlett aka Doveman, a renowned musician and producer who helmed recent records by St. Vincent, Rhye, Glen Hansard and Stevens.

If a lot of why earlier album Swim Inside the Moon was so heartbreakingly striking stemmed from its rough and lo-fi recording, how would a studio-produced release even remotely capture this same closeness? By and large, Bartlett’s cleaner mix works wonders for De Augustine. With cleaner vocals and an emphasis on a variety of instrumentation, Tomb is more direct than anything De Augustine’s has released prior.

By adding cleaner production, synth and string flourishes alongside poppier and catchier refrains, De Augustine largely hits the mark on Tomb. With a few curveballs thrown throughout, the warm and comforting lull of Swim Inside the Moon is long gone, replaced by a fascinating record that updates his prior work without losing any of its intimacy.

I’m gonna put this out there: ever since I found out about collaboration with Sufjan Stevens’ strong affiliation with church, I pretty much banned him from my earlobes. Anyway, this one slipped through the cracks because Angelo De Augustine is singing it instead

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The music of You Tell Me exists in this glorious place where several decades of British pop gently collide. That is to be expected considering the pedigree of the two singer/songwriters at the helm of this project. Peter Brewis is one-half of the flint-edged post-punk group Field Music, and Sarah Hayes has logged time in the glittering indie pop outfit Admiral Fallow and dabbled in traditional folk as a solo artist. Add in the detail that the pair met for the first time at a Kate Bush concert and the sound of You Tell Me may start coming into focus even before you get a chance to listen to their self-titled debut. The pair’s 11-song album weaves in and out of those varied sonic worlds with ease and wide-eyed joy, often grabbing little fragments into a lovely patchwork. Opener “Enough To Notice” layers the dreamy spirit of The Pentangle and their ‘70s psych-folk ilk with bubblegum pop, while “Water Cooler” and “Get Out Of The Room” imagines The Blue Nile’s sophisticated gleam meeting a hearty post-rock rumble.

There is a tendency within the running time of You Tell Me for the duo to maintain their cruising altitude for long stretches when they clearly have the abilities to hit the accelerator and soar. The languid pace that they lend to the majority of the songs here suits them just fine, but put up against the peppier numbers, you may long for a bit more variation. At the same time, You Tell Me concocts such a spell with their debut that the journey will still delight and intoxicate.

You Tell Me’s debut album out 11th January 2019