While Herd Runners builds on the qualities Aldred has always been attracted to – bold, traditional storytelling and sentimental arrangements – it feels less urgent than the records that came before it.Thirst For Romance and Beneath This Burning Shoreline raced in with exuberance, but 'Clear Skies Ever Closer' channels its romanticism thinly, opening flushed in smooth guitar riffs and quick string motifs. It's a wonderfully loose song, culminating in a bridge in which Aldred tumbles gleefully down to sweltering trumpet and platitudes about love. Nothing has changed about the way Aldred writes songs, or the way in which he can revitalise the queasiest musical clichés, but the ease with which he does it is evident in Herd Runners.
Herd Runners is unlikely to make waves: it's too delicate a record, showing off what Aldred can do with Being There-influenced guitar twang (appearing on 'Sacramento' and 'Drinking for Two') instead of the bold, sombre tones of Beneath This Burning Shoreline (which could've veered into Starsailor territory if taken further: maybe it's for the best). This feels like an attempt by Aldred to make his songs as gentle as they are grand, evident in his most vulnerable vocal performance to date. Cherry Ghost didn't make good on the pop potential of 'People Help The People', and haven't fared well as an "indie rock" band – Aldred's voice is too mature for that, and his musical vocabulary makes his songs anachronistic. It's sadly fitting: Herd Runners is another excellent record by a disastrously underrated songwriter who doesn't believe in love, but doesn't get enough of it either. There's only so long he can wait.
(The Quietus)

“Clear Skies Ever Closer” sees the album jump into life with a blissful lilt. A luxurious production drapes itself around the track, and the expansive strings and propulsive brass make for an opulent and vociferous start to the album.
There’s a crafted, yet unforced quality to these songs. No more so than on the heart rending album highlight “Sacramento”. ‘‘Sacramento’s half the city since you took that job two states away/I count the days as I wait these tables trying to save the fare to come and stay’’, is a beautiful and wonderfully economical opening couplet to set the scene of a boy scraping together enough money to go after the girl. The track showcases the refined elegance of Aldred’s song writing, and “Sacramento” as well as the timeless “Drinking for Two”, like a great many of the songs in his back catalogue, sounds like an old standard, plucked from the dusty vaults of musical history. It’s certainly one of his best, and like numerous tracks on the LP, it plays with a glossy melancholia; a dark edge to the lush, string augmented tracks can be found in the lyrics, in these tales of downtrodden souls in pursuit of an elusive salvation.
(The Line Of Best Fit)

"Heaven is the title of the diary written by Nakajima Ume, a young woman who lived in Japan from 1836 to 1864. It's entries catalog her catastrophic marriage to a cruel nobleman, and her later introduction to a young, idealistic poet whose expressions of sympathy inspire her to escape from her unfortunate circumstances.
When her friendship with the poet is discovered, Ume is sent away to a distant village, where she falls into a deep depression and eventually learns of the poet’s death. Though the news of the poet’s death initially disturbs Ume, she soon discovers within herself a new sense of clarity and motivation. Her diary ends with a final pronouncement: she will drown herself in order to reunite with her fallen lover."

The Bilinda Butchers is one of those rare acts that has actually managed to define a certain branch of shoegaze, by bringing traditional Japanese vibes and melodies into the genre. There has been a number of great japanese bands gazing down before these guys entered the scene, but these to my knowledge never intertwined their musical heritage into their sounds.
(SlyVinyl)

The Japanese flavour is the first taste you get on ‘Ume’, a song of devotion to kick off the tragic tale. It’s done in grandiose  style, this song is a stunner. It’s followed by the catchy ‘Less Than’ which dispels any hope of predicting what the next song might sound like. ‘Old Style Anami’ pairs ambient synths with spoken word. The trio have mentioned previously how video games have influenced them, in these moments it’s most noticeable.
Sarah Psalti (former singer of Keep Shelly In Anthens) contributes to the second single ‘Golden House’. It’s an 80s styled synth popper that marks a turning point in the album’s theme, things are about to get dark! The rain of ‘New Style Askashi’ leads into the 2013 single ‘The Lover’s Suicide’, another one of ‘Heaven‘s highlights. But for me, ‘Tanka’ and ‘Edo Method’ are the strongest songs on the record. Both play with pitch bending synths against breakbeats with fantastic vocal melodies.
The latter half of the album focuses on the concept of heaven and the afterlife. ‘Heaven Holds A Place’ is ironically happy, almost comical. I’m guessing that’s what they were going for, there’s soulful falsetto vocals and a chorus of ‘Oooh’s after all! Presumably this is the moment when our remaining lover looks forward to reuniting after death, but I could be wrong. Needless to say, ‘Heaven’ is a unique record, it’s rare to get this wrapped up in an album. It’s a conversation starter that’s likely to drag you back for repeated listens. I can only speculate how many fans will fall in love with it, destined to be high on ‘best of’s lists for 2014.
(Sounds Better With Reverb)

Then over five days in early 2014, accepting Webster's invitation to record again, new and former bandmates reunited in a remote studio in Wales. The group breathed new life into one older studio demo and eight of Webster's new songs, resulting in the nine tracks comprising Embers.
The advance single, "It's Not Enough," is definitive UK in style, a veritable lovechild of influences along the lines of U2, Coldplay, Travis, and even poppy-yet-solemn hints of Morrissey.
Embers' mood is cool, rainy, and foggy, though the production and instrumentation plays crisp, bright, and clean. The album is beautiful—a multi-layered, wide landscape of sound.
(Coyote Music)

In another universe, Rick Webster would be as famous as Chris Martin and Unkle Bob as big as Coldplay. (…)
For me, this is the best, most rounded Scots album released this year so far.
It starts with rain and a plaintive violin as All At Once blasts into view - Rick's earthy vocals, a banjo and a stadium-sized melody. But don't think it's going to be an album of cod folk like Mumford & Sons. Embers is next, a straight-up rocker with Rick's ear for a catchy ear worm and some nice piercing guitar.
If You Believe lowers the pace to a lanquid, lovelorn lurch as Rick promises "I'll wait for you". He then gets all Morrissey on lead single Not Enough. (…)
The album finishes with Lightning and is as fantastic as opener All At Once.
Stirring and a hypnotic beat will make sure the smile that you found on your face at the start of the album will continue all the way through to the end.
A fantastic album that deserves your ears.
(Daily Record)

Alvvays is a thrilling, often lethargic debut. It can be a catalyst for out-of-body relaxation with its deluge of frothy, bubble-bath timbres, or it can be a rousing, strangely communal record, enabling all-night gab session on the beach by campfires. It’s an album for friends, for lovers and for the self.

Es bleibt damit bei durch und durch guten Voraussetzungen für die Band, die sich nach dem ersten Hype entspannt zurücklehnen kann, um – mit viel Glück – eine zweite Welle abzuwarten, auf der es sich dann um so besser surfen lässt. Den richtigen Soundtrack haben Alvvays ja bereits geschaffen.

Die zehn Songs der aktuellen LP klingen folglich sehr rau, intuitiv und ehrlich. Fink geben den Songs genügend Raum und Zeit zum Atmen und Entfalten. Lange Intros und Outros sind die Folge, die aus „Hard Believer“ ein fast meditatives Werk machen.

• 08.08. Karlsruhe
• 09.08. Rees-Haldern
• 10.08. Kassel

Nicht, dass ihre bisherigen fünf Studioalben nicht auch schon recht zugänglich gewesen wären, aber diesmal passt sich Sia den chartstauglichen Konventionen geschmeidiger an als bislang. Da klappern die Beats so synkopiert, wie sie seit den Neptunes zu sein haben, gibt es mit „Straight For The Knife“ eine mollige Ballade, jubilieren die Synthies und verbreiten die Streicher das angemessene Pathos.

Die Texte allerdings, die die Australierin mit ihrer grandiosen Stimme, die alles kann zwischen strahlender Helligkeit und knarzender Tür, vorträgt, fügen sich nicht so problemlos ins Radioformat. Die Liebe ist hier stets leidgeprüft, das Leben eher ermüdend, die Depression ein guter Freund und der Wahnsinn nicht weit. Weit geht sie hier auf, die Schere zwischen Ton und Text. Weit genug, um ohne großes Risiko die nächsten Hits in der Karriere von Sia Furler zu prophezeien. (Musikexpress)

Whether or not stadium pop is to everyone’s taste, this is it in its smartest and most human form. (Fact Magazine) 

When you listen to 1000 Forms of Fear and hear the real pain in her beautiful, guttural vocal hiccups, it doesn’t feel like a voyeuristic experience but, rather, like an old friend’s new hurting or your own past mistakes. (Consequence Of Sound)

1000 Forms of Fear is a anguished pop album for our uncertain times, crafted by an artist who is conflicted and torn by her celebrity as well as her vulnerable heart. (The Line Of Best Fit)

A clever range of textures (from raw cello through stuttering piano to popcorn-light synths) keep things interesting and there’s a bravery in the way she spins inspirational lyrics from her long battles with addiction and bipolar disorder. (The Telegraph)

Honeyblood is not quite the energy-fuelled ride of adrenaline and force the band is capable of producing, but it establishes them as an important component of the new tide of female rock-bands emerging. Whether this evolves into the future of rock, we shall have to wait and see. What is more certain is that Honeyblood have the right to take this record forward with a sense of pride, and hopefully grapple with their growing status as one of Britain’s most hopeful young bands. I’m just hoping that expectation won’t be one to come back and haunt them.
(Bearded Gentlemen Music)

They namecheck PJ Harvey and Throwing Muses in interviews, but their sound is actually more akin to the excitable, lo-fi indie-pop fuzz of the Shop Assistants or the Darling Buds. There's nothing new here, but it's all done with vim and effervescence. Killer Bangs bubbles with pop fizz, Bud's "Nip it in the bud!" hookline is something of an earworm and Stina Tweeddale's lilting-then-shrill delivery ("Slimeball! Sleaze!") recalls the Sundays' Harriet Wheeler. In fact, Tweeddale's voice is the best thing here, although it might be more suited to Dolly Parton-type big country rock than what – for all its charms – its still generic indie rock.
(The Guardian)

Not as great as you might have hoped, but far better than you might have feared, a little more reliant on others than a man who ended his Autobiography claiming that "I have never had anything in my life that I did not make for myself" might care to admit, World Peace Is None of Your Business may be as good as it gets at this stage in his career, which is good enough.
(The Guardian)

Der Albumtitel zeigt, dass dem 55-Jährigen immer noch griffige Bonmots einfallen, die Kernaussagen seiner Texte kann man mittlerweile aber auswendig herunterbeten: Regierungen sind böse („World Peace...“), die Menschen abscheulich („Mountjoy“) und „Sex is not the same as love“ („Smiler With A Knife“). Die einzige „Innovation“: Dieses Mal hebt Morrissey seine Themen auf eine globale Ebene. Es geht um Weltfrieden und um den brutalen Planeten Erde. „Brazil and Bahrain. Oh, Egypt, Ukraine, so many people in pain.“ Da ist es nur schlüssig, dass sich auch Anklänge von Weltmusik in die Songs schleichen: ein Akkordeon unterbricht „Earth Is The Loneliest Planet“, eine Flamenco-Gitarre durchfährt „Staircase At The University“. Das alles hört sich weniger schlimm an, als man vermuten würde. Mit Jesse Tobias und Boz Boorer hat Morrissey Musiker in seiner Band, die ihm ein paar solide Songs geschrieben haben. „The Bullfighter Dies“ ist ein eingängiger Zweiminüter, das theatralische „I’m Not A Man“ motiviert Morrissey zu einer großartigen, musicalhaften Gesangsleistung. Und „Smiler With A Knife“ ist fast so schön wie „Asleep“ von den Smiths.

Leider verpasst Produzent Joe Chiccarelli der Platte einen Rocksound, der ihr nicht gut bekommt. Einmal singt Morrissey in „Kick The Bride Down The Aisle“ sanft: „You’re that stretch of the beach, that the tide doesn’t reach“. Harfen flirren, Glocken bimmeln. Und kurz sieht man den Sänger da stehen, auf diesem verlassenen Abschnitt des Strandes, einsam und traurig wie Lana Del Rey. Doch gleich darauf fährt die Rockgitarre dazwischen und zerstört den Moment.

So ist WORLD PEACE ... wie viele späte Morrissey-Platten: eingängig, aber grobschlächtig. Routiniert und irgendwie emotionslos. Laut Jesse Tobias sind aus den Sessions genug Songs für ein weiteres Album übriggeblieben. Hoffentlich hat sich Morrissey die besseren aufgespart. Und hoffentlich produziert sie beim nächsten Mal jemand, der ein besseres Gespür dafür hat.
(Musikexpress)

If there’s one word to describe Brothers and Sisters, it’s “energetic;” in fact, “Silver Joy” is the closest Jurado comes to his classic style as he sings softly over a finger-picked guitar. Every track may not be as upbeat as “Silver Timothy,” but they all feature that energy Jurado has been experimenting with at their core. Whether it’s the more familiar-sounding songs like “Metallic Cloud” and “Silver Katherine,” or “Jericho Road”’s spaghetti Western march or even “Return to Maraqopa”’s swirl of synthesizers, Jurado is stretching to make something truly unique.

DAMIEN JURADO ist ein Meister der leisen Töne, der auf „Brothers And Sisters of The Eternal Son“ eine Reihe kleiner Songperlen aneinanderfügt, die in unaufgeregter Schönheit des Hörers Herz berühren.

The album opens at a more subtle pace, with 'Tears of Joy' taking that Sixties influence and showcasing a love song packed full of electric wah-wah guitar strums and sultry arrangements. The vocals remain at the forefront of Slow Club's production and it's in this that we witness their growth as songwriters - producing song structures that are catchy yet subtle, organic yet sleeker than ever before. The polished construction enables us to appreciate the smaller details, such as the gentle, electric strumming melody of 'Everything is New' and the encompassing horn additions to 'The Queen's Nose'. The latter is the most quintessentially Sixties-style offering, with on-the-beat strums and key changes and yet the band are able to craft it into something entirely unique; mixing this instrumentation to create a modern day love song with a comforting quality.

Paring back the everything-but-the-kitchen-sink approach of old shows us a band that are more self-assured than ever before. Gone are the over encompassing structures and instead, we're presented with gorgeous stripped back offerings, such as the piano accompanied 'Number One'; teamed only with soft, deepened harmonies, it's the rare glimpse of Watson's solo efforts at the beginning of this song that make it that little bit more special. Once Taylor joins, it's an undeniable, triumphant ballad that proves the 'less is more' approach can often produce truly magical moments. (...)

Sleeker, stronger and more confident than ever, on Complete Surrender Slow Club flourish with each strum and every breath. They've perfectly blended their skills of pop, folk and soul to produce pounding dance anthems, breath-taking ballads and nostalgic marvels that are so perfectly placed in the track listing, you'll never be skipping for your favourite. Beginners, they are not.
(Drowned In Sound)

There have already been some cracking standout singles from this album – Hey, Hey Lover and Absolved. Both are uniquely charming, with the former a desperate tale which harks the album title in its chorus. Absolved is a thoroughly more uplifting experience, both in terms of tempo and percussion, but upon repeated listening proves to have the same dark undertones which run throughout the album.

Robert Jordan is a monumentally sombre affair which starts off empty and downtrodden and somehow turns into a potential bond theme with the addition of some strings.

In a rather contrasting turn of events ¡No Pasarãn! is a far more gung-ho, 60s track, whilst This Is Not Entertainment alters things again, as it exudes more latino beats and acoustic melody. The social commentary on the latter makes it stand out as this generation’s That’s Entertainment.

Despite there being a similar mid-tempo to each song, We May Yet Stand a chance is certainly not short of variety and versatility in terms of influencing genres and tales to be told. However the mix is consistent enough that it doesn’t feel like The Heartbreaks are lost. No, quite the opposite in fact – they are flirting with possibilities well within their limitations as they hover around a genre which has needed a kick up the backside in the last few years.

There’s no denying it, The Heartbreaks are absolutely mesmerising storytellers. Clearly standing alongside fellow northern lyrical geniuses like Morrissey and Alex Turner, it surely can’t be long until they reach the same dizzy heights of fame. We May Yet Stand a Chance holds it’s own as a great alt-indie album, but combined with the social commentary and messages it sends, could prove to be a real marker of our generation.
(More Than The Music)

The Heartbreaks’ new album We May Yet Stand A Chance is a beacon of clarity in a sea of mediocrity. In a time when bottom-feeding drivel dominates the popular music charts, four lads from our little seaside town have revealed a work of depth and social conscience.

We May Yet Stand A Chance is a cracking pop album, no doubt, but the lyrics, theme and versatility are what set it apart. Grandiose in parts, introspective in others, We May Yet Stand A Chance is a far more developed and cohesive beast than the group’s 2012 debut Funtimes.

Whilst Funtimes rarely deviated from a formula of good-time melodic pop, this explores everything from Motown soul to Latin guitar, even the Wild West. At times, singer Matthew Whitehouse’s spectacular vocals make the hairs stand up on the back of the neck. Through his lyrics, drummer and chief songwriter Joseph Kondras makes chillingly bold and accurate statements about changes in modern culture and our way of thinking. The guitar wizardry of Ryan Wallace and bass of Chris ‘Deaks’ Deakin underpin a satisfyingly meaningful piece of work.
(The Visitor)

War der Vorgänger still und introvertiert, ist das neue Werk wieder eine politische Platte geworden. Sie bedient jene Manics-Fans, die die Band gerne Dinge wie „Let’s Go To War“ singen hören. Seinen Titel trägt das Album übrigens zu Unrecht: Als „futuristisch“ wären die leblosen Synthies und Beats, die fast jeden Song ruinieren, nicht einmal in den Achtzigern durchgegangen.

Und was der oft so brillante James Dean Bradfield bei „Mayakovsky“ an der Gitarre aufführt, geht auf keine Kuhhaut. „Europa Geht Durch Mich“ ist dann ein Song für all jene, die gerne einmal Nina Hoss’ Theaterdeutsch auf einer Platte der Manic Street Preachers hören wollten – sprich: für niemanden. Viel besser passt die Stimme von Scritti Polit- tis Green Gartside zu „Between The Clock And The Bed“. Neben dem Titeltrack und dem packenden „The Next Jet To Leave Moscow“ zählt er zu den wenigen Songs, die man mehr als einmal hören möchte. Macht aber nichts. Nächstes Mal sind die Manics vielleicht wieder in Höchstform.

The album was recorded in Berlin and the dark pulse of that Krautrock influence gives the songs a steely sleekness of purpose (and real cohesion), while the band layer a vigorous variety of sounds and tempos on top to keep things interesting. (The Telegraph)

Every track is quite full of life and holds no lack of energy that characterizes good, classic British rock ‘n’ roll. (musicOMH)

Futurology never feels like a pastiche, and sounds unmistakably like the Manic Street Preachers while sounding unlike any other album they've made. (The Guardian)

Platten vor Gericht // Juni 2014 from Platten vor Gericht on 8tracks Radio.

Sounds like a three in the morning jam in which Johnny Cash, The Velvet Underground & The Everley Brothers try not to wake the neighbours.  

In a past life Pete Fij was Pete Fijalkowski of Creation records almost-theres Adorable, and Terry Bickers was House of Love's erratic six string prodigy who set fire to £10 notes in the back of their tour van. Now 25 years on they've joined forces for a sparse, rather lovely album documenting the devastation of being dumped in middle age. Bickers' playing is a masterclass in understated Lou Reed-style picking, bending and sliding, like a whole album of The Velvet Underground's Pale Blue Eyes, while Fij's voice has the fragile, worldly wise tenor of Richard Hawley or Ian McCulloch. It could be a tad serious were it not for Fij's barbed self-deprecating lyrics "Hope, moire addictive than coke" he sings on Betty Ford, "it's Cupid's cruel joke." Smart Stuff. (Q Magazine)

Tasteful enough to soundtrack your local’s Sunday roast, yet too arch to ever fall in with a Mumford, Marthas & Arthurs shun the fashionable folkies and extend the blood line of Brit cynics from Half Man Half Biscuit to Stuart Murdoch and Morrissey.

While occasionally sounding like they should be singing about maypoles or bushes and briars, these nine songs actually deal with a thoroughly modern cast.

Witness the fish-loving frizzly-haired Al Jazeera anchor of ‘Diamonds Between Her Thighs’, or the gorgeous Terry and June-referencing heartbreaker ‘Meantime’.

It doesn’t always work. The skiffle-flavoured ‘Used Up All My Aces’ is a bit clumsy in its card-playing analogy, more Chris de Burgh’s ‘Spanish Train’ than Dylan’s ‘Lily, Rosemary And The Jack Of Hearts’. Elsewhere, ‘Backwards Blackberries’ tries and fails to do for fiddles what The Stone Roses’ ‘Don’t Stop’ did for jangly guitars.

But then they give us ‘Rosa Lee’, a moody atmospheric ballad that recalls Grizzly Bear Daniel Rossen’s best efforts. Block harmonies and an acoustic guitar keep it anchored, simple and sincere, while a piano chimes like Satie and a mournful trumpet solo steals the show.

All in all, ‘More International Hits’ is less jet-set and more country fair; a Penguin classic and Panda Pop on the village green, wishing away the rain. I can think of worse ways to soundtrack the spring.
(Subba-Cultcha)

Despite all these references and talents for instrumentation, SixToes don’t fully define their sound until ‘Zen Box.’ Throughout The Morning After it feels as if SixToes may be trying to occupy the same space as Zach Condon’s Beirut. But in ‘Zen Box’ David Greenep’s vocals still hum but also soar and squeal. It’s a bit more expansive and in the composition and arrangement they have allowed themselves more freedom to express.

Perhaps their most accomplished instrumentation is saved for the final moments of ‘Low Guns’ – in which the vocals of Dave Gahan from Depeche Mode make an appearance. The unkempt falling and cascading violins drag their way to a crescendo making a sound similar to something heard on a Bright Eyes album. It is a great example of SixToes talent for arrangements.

It’s been six years and an expansion to six members since SixToes released their debut, Trick of the Night, in 2008, which is a nice number given their name. Like six toes, all on one slightly troubled foot making music that is as well arranged, well referenced, well respected and drenched in bleak tones. SixToes are at their best when given freedom to express in a solitary moment or empathise with a monumentally dour, sour moment in life.
(Bearded Magazine)

Perhaps as a thank you for this, and the other interpretations of DM tracks, Depeche frontman Dave Gahan features on “Low Guns”. His trademark angst-driven vocals enrich the group’s theatrical spectacles, with guitars initially swapped for war drums before a post-break build up to lush arrangements and a strange blend of melancholia and euphoria. Simply stunning, and by no means an easy song to get along with towards the string-heavy outro, but one that reaps rewards once that difficult task of turning off and opening a mind simultaneously has been achieved.

A folkier feel fuels songs elsewhere on the LP, with “Volume Song” built, as many of the numbers are, on playful guitar parts and poetic, storytelling lyrics. “Nobody Inn” is similar, telling the story of a drinking hole, but not exactly selling it to those looking for a “2 For £10 Menu” to take the family. Echoed vocals twist and turn, using alliteration and repetition (“a crashing bore, he hit the linen… and if there’s blood to spill he’ll spill it”) to create an almost hypnotic, or perhaps inebriated effect. Unorthodox rhythms play out and in and around throughout, with the vocals of (almost) title track “The Morning After Melodrama” seeming to float above and tangle in the “the waves” and tides” sung about, like a stream of ribbon in a changing wind, with deeper voices appearing to take the place of what would ordinarily be the cellos lines later on.
(The Line Of Best Fit)