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Robert Roth – Someone, Somewhere

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Though he's still best known for his role in Truly's 1995 album Fast Stories... From Kid Coma, Robert Roth is way beyond grunge. This solo debut is crammed with classy naked city observations like the magical opener "Vicki And Jacky" and the epic "Walk All Over Downtown Life". With a musical talent to match his ear for detail, Roth slips mellotron, loops and Farfisa in between some richly arranged songwriting that echoes Pink Floyd and Jorma Kaukonen. If Bob's voice is eerily reminiscent of Syd Barrett, the notes and nuances are highly original.

Though he’s still best known for his role in Truly’s 1995 album Fast Stories… From Kid Coma, Robert Roth is way beyond grunge. This solo debut is crammed with classy naked city observations like the magical opener “Vicki And Jacky” and the epic “Walk All Over Downtown Life”. With a musical talent to match his ear for detail, Roth slips mellotron, loops and Farfisa in between some richly arranged songwriting that echoes Pink Floyd and Jorma Kaukonen. If Bob’s voice is eerily reminiscent of Syd Barrett, the notes and nuances are highly original.

Nelly Sweat – Suit

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Flushed with hubris after the success of his "non-carbonated energy beverage" Pimp Juice and a part in the new Adam Sandler movie, Nelly jumps on the trend of releasing two albums simultaneously. His populist rapping dominates the superior Sweat, which brings on press darling/smug bastard Pharrell Williams, Christina Aguilera and Missy Elliott. "Flap Your Wings" is a rehash of "Hot In Herre", and nearly as much fun. Suit is touted as more grown-up. Ron Isley and Snoop drop by for a swig. State-of-the-art pop, but as he's nothing to say except "shag me", its fizz fades fast over two hours. CHRIS ROBERTS

Flushed with hubris after the success of his “non-carbonated energy beverage” Pimp Juice and a part in the new Adam Sandler movie, Nelly jumps on the trend of releasing two albums simultaneously. His populist rapping dominates the superior Sweat, which brings on press darling/smug bastard Pharrell Williams, Christina Aguilera and Missy Elliott. “Flap Your Wings” is a rehash of “Hot In Herre”, and nearly as much fun. Suit is touted as more grown-up. Ron Isley and Snoop drop by for a swig. State-of-the-art pop, but as he’s nothing to say except “shag me”, its fizz fades fast over two hours.

CHRIS ROBERTS

Nikki Sudden – Treasure Island

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With a dream band that features Mick Taylor, Ian McLagan, pedal-steel guitarist BJ Cole and saxman Anthony Thistlethwaite, Nikki Sudden's Treasure Island has all the hallmarks of a career record. Certainly it's more focused, more seamless than the lion's share of Sudden's prolific post-Swell Maps work, though it hardly veers from his beloved archetypes. Like a '70s fugitive wandering through the long-lost songbooks of Ronnie Lane, Ian Hunter, Johnny Thunders and Elliott Murphy, Sudden writes evocative songs hatched in the church of rock'n'roll and performed with a true believer's gospel fervour. Best song: "Stay Bruised", a gorgeous bit of ensemble brilliance.

With a dream band that features Mick Taylor, Ian McLagan, pedal-steel guitarist BJ Cole and saxman Anthony Thistlethwaite, Nikki Sudden’s Treasure Island has all the hallmarks of a career record. Certainly it’s more focused, more seamless than the lion’s share of Sudden’s prolific post-Swell Maps work, though it hardly veers from his beloved archetypes. Like a ’70s fugitive wandering through the long-lost songbooks of Ronnie Lane, Ian Hunter, Johnny Thunders and Elliott Murphy, Sudden writes evocative songs hatched in the church of rock’n’roll and performed with a true believer’s gospel fervour. Best song: “Stay Bruised”, a gorgeous bit of ensemble brilliance.

Royal Flux

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"The best rock'n'roll," reckons Keith Richards, "is about teamwork." No one needs to tell the Kings Of Leon. Their debut, 2002's Youth And Young Manhood, melded wide-eyed Allman Brothers/Creedence-style Southern rock to student disco-compatible post-Strokes indie, going on to sell over half a million copies. It was also the product of some highly organised teamwork: the implausibly young (bassist Jared is still only 18) and implausibly good-looking Nashville quartet acted as a front for a studio ringer (Angelo), a stylist and, seemingly, a biographer steeped in William Faulkner. The story of the three Followill brothers (plus guitarist cousin Matthew) and their alcoholic preacher-man dad travelling the South in a battered estate car spreading the gospel could almost have been taken from Robert Duvall's Louisiana melodrama The Apostle. The great storyline, though, was only one part of their perfection, alongside great songs and beards. Written in a few weeks in Nashville but then recorded in LA, this time round the Kings are forced to act out a more prosaic plot?the difficult second album. Angelo and former producer Ethan Johns have been retained, but where their debut was sun-dappled and airy enough to release four singles from, Aha Shake Heartbreak is almost defiantly dense and prickly. Ditching the rock radio choruses is a brave move, as is the bold?some might say foolhardy?step of introducing yodelling to the mix on "Day Old". Elsewhere, though, this feels like a step backwards: opener "Slow Nights, So Long" recalls the graceless lurch of The Wedding Present. Proof that Aha... is nothing more than the uncomfortable sound of a band escaping their svengali, though, comes with the fact that the two best songs ("King Of The Rodeo" and single "Bucket") are ones written entirely by the Followills. It doesn't matter that Aha... is a slight falter. Left to their own devices next time round, the Kings might produce something truly special.

“The best rock’n’roll,” reckons Keith Richards, “is about teamwork.” No one needs to tell the Kings Of Leon. Their debut, 2002’s Youth And Young Manhood, melded wide-eyed Allman Brothers/Creedence-style Southern rock to student disco-compatible post-Strokes indie, going on to sell over half a million copies. It was also the product of some highly organised teamwork: the implausibly young (bassist Jared is still only 18) and implausibly good-looking Nashville quartet acted as a front for a studio ringer (Angelo), a stylist and, seemingly, a biographer steeped in William Faulkner. The story of the three Followill brothers (plus guitarist cousin Matthew) and their alcoholic preacher-man dad travelling the South in a battered estate car spreading the gospel could almost have been taken from Robert Duvall’s Louisiana melodrama The Apostle. The great storyline, though, was only one part of their perfection, alongside great songs and beards.

Written in a few weeks in Nashville but then recorded in LA, this time round the Kings are forced to act out a more prosaic plot?the difficult second album. Angelo and former producer Ethan Johns have been retained, but where their debut was sun-dappled and airy enough to release four singles from, Aha Shake Heartbreak is almost defiantly dense and prickly. Ditching the rock radio choruses is a brave move, as is the bold?some might say foolhardy?step of introducing yodelling to the mix on “Day Old”. Elsewhere, though, this feels like a step backwards: opener “Slow Nights, So Long” recalls the graceless lurch of The Wedding Present. Proof that Aha… is nothing more than the uncomfortable sound of a band escaping their svengali, though, comes with the fact that the two best songs (“King Of The Rodeo” and single “Bucket”) are ones written entirely by the Followills. It doesn’t matter that Aha… is a slight falter. Left to their own devices next time round, the Kings might produce something truly special.

Khonnor – Handwriting

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Following in the footsteps of Berliner Ulrich Schnauss, whose A Strangely Isolated Place has become something of a word-of-mouth phenomenon, teenager Connor Kirby-Long has also accidentally reinvented shoegazing with this beautifully evocative lo-fi debut. The stunning opener, "Man From The Anthill"...

Following in the footsteps of Berliner Ulrich Schnauss, whose A Strangely Isolated Place has become something of a word-of-mouth phenomenon, teenager Connor Kirby-Long has also accidentally reinvented shoegazing with this beautifully evocative lo-fi debut. The stunning opener, “Man From The Anthill”, sets the scene, distant voices bleeding over a blizzard of radio static and warm synth washes, while “Crapstone”‘s na

Apes – Tapestry Mastery

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As if our own arena-conquering Muse weren't proof enough, anyone doubting the widespread and undiminished appeal of prog-rock should bend an ear to Washington DC's Apes. Pinning down their sound isn't that simple, however. In fact, nailing buttered fog to the floor would be easier. Brutally blurring the boundaries between punk, metal and stoner rock, '70s psychedelia and prog, their third album rampages about in the same darkly disturbed ballpark as Liars, Oneida and Trans Am. A perverted church organ is the melodic lynchpin, but it's the lurching, lead-lined bass grooves that provide the thrills. Iron Butterfly fans should definitely investigate.

As if our own arena-conquering Muse weren’t proof enough, anyone doubting the widespread and undiminished appeal of prog-rock should bend an ear to Washington DC’s Apes. Pinning down their sound isn’t that simple, however. In fact, nailing buttered fog to the floor would be easier. Brutally blurring the boundaries between punk, metal and stoner rock, ’70s psychedelia and prog, their third album rampages about in the same darkly disturbed ballpark as Liars, Oneida and Trans Am.

A perverted church organ is the melodic lynchpin, but it’s the lurching, lead-lined bass grooves that provide the thrills. Iron Butterfly fans should definitely investigate.

Tom Jones And Jools Holland

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The prospect of Jones The Voice jamming with Jools The Hands is not a happy one. Containing 19 vintage blues, soul and early rock'n'roll standards, this album certainly makes for a depressingly conservative period piece. But it's also clearly a labour of love, raw in execution and pleasingly free of marketing gloss. Holland's boogie-woogie piano playing is an acquired taste, to put it midly, but at least he is on punchy form here. And when Jones strays into lusty gospel-soul with "Who Will The Next Fool Be?", he still sounds magnificent.

The prospect of Jones The Voice jamming with Jools The Hands is not a happy one. Containing 19 vintage blues, soul and early rock’n’roll standards, this album certainly makes for a depressingly conservative period piece. But it’s also clearly a labour of love, raw in execution and pleasingly free of marketing gloss. Holland’s boogie-woogie piano playing is an acquired taste, to put it midly, but at least he is on punchy form here. And when Jones strays into lusty gospel-soul with “Who Will The Next Fool Be?”, he still sounds magnificent.

Jimmy Eat World – Futures

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To qualify for approval on the American emo punk scene, you had to be gnarly, melodically 'challenging' and denounce the very concept of a hit forever. So when Arizona's Jimmy Eat World broke for the Billboard border with their eponymous album in 2002, the 'sell-out' brickbats inevitably flew. Now their fourth album, stuffed with Fountains Of Wayne-but-shoutier chug-poppers like "Pain", arrives as a kind of Joshua Tree for the heavily pierced and mildly upset. And thoroughly pleasant it is, too: more Foo Fighters than Fugazi, and all the sparklier for it. MARK BEAUMONT

To qualify for approval on the American emo punk scene, you had to be gnarly, melodically ‘challenging’ and denounce the very concept of a hit forever. So when Arizona’s Jimmy Eat World broke for the Billboard border with their eponymous album in 2002, the ‘sell-out’ brickbats inevitably flew.

Now their fourth album, stuffed with Fountains Of Wayne-but-shoutier chug-poppers like “Pain”, arrives as a kind of Joshua Tree for the heavily pierced and mildly upset. And thoroughly pleasant it is, too: more Foo Fighters than Fugazi, and all the sparklier for it.

MARK BEAUMONT

Martin Carthy – Waiting For Angels

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Forty years on, Martin Carthy is showing signs of mellowing. His commitment to the revivalist cause is undiminished. But here his singing is quietly passionate, beautifully offset by sparse modern arrangements with subtle production overseen by daughter Eliza. Acknowledging old-fashioned singers, he takes inspiration from mentors like Harry Cox, the Copper Family and Walter Pardon, the latter's "A Ship To Old England Came" a chilling, compelling tale. A trio of instrumentals showcase Carthy's deft playing, highlighted by Martin Simpson's slide guitar. Exquisite, relaxed, and belying Carthy's virtuosity.

Forty years on, Martin Carthy is showing signs of mellowing. His commitment to the revivalist cause is undiminished. But here his singing is quietly passionate, beautifully offset by sparse modern arrangements with subtle production overseen by daughter Eliza. Acknowledging old-fashioned singers, he takes inspiration from mentors like Harry Cox, the Copper Family and Walter Pardon, the latter’s “A Ship To Old England Came” a chilling, compelling tale.

A trio of instrumentals showcase Carthy’s deft playing, highlighted by Martin Simpson’s slide guitar. Exquisite, relaxed, and belying Carthy’s virtuosity.

Pinback – Summer In Abaddon

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Talking Heads' quirky angularity has become a touchstone for US college bands like Modest Mouse and Death Cab For Cutie, and this third album from Armistead Smith and Rob Crow follows a similar route. At their best ("Non Photo-Blue", "Fortress") Pinback unite complexity with conventional AM radio guitar pop to lilting effect. But for all their deft intricacies, they're somewhat characterless?this doesn't exactly get the blood pumping. Yelping choruses attempt to compensate, but it only sounds forced and overstrained. Too much maths, not enough magic.

Talking Heads’ quirky angularity has become a touchstone for US college bands like Modest Mouse and Death Cab For Cutie, and this third album from Armistead Smith and Rob Crow follows a similar route. At their best (“Non Photo-Blue”, “Fortress”) Pinback unite complexity with conventional AM radio guitar pop to lilting effect. But for all their deft intricacies, they’re somewhat characterless?this doesn’t exactly get the blood pumping. Yelping choruses attempt to compensate, but it only sounds forced and overstrained. Too much maths, not enough magic.

The Crickets – The Crickets And Their Buddies

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Groansome pun title aside, this is a lot better than anyone might surmise. The venerable Crickets retain some fabulous chops and their chums are pretty tasty?try Eric Clapton, Rodney Crowell, Phil Everly, JD Souther, Johnny Rivers, Bobby Vee and Waylon Jennings (the latter's take on "Well...All Right" was one of his final recordings). Bossed by Albert Lee and Glen D Hardin, The Crickets roll back their years to fine effect. Only thing is, where's Macca?

Groansome pun title aside, this is a lot better than anyone might surmise. The venerable Crickets retain some fabulous chops and their chums are pretty tasty?try Eric Clapton, Rodney Crowell, Phil Everly, JD Souther, Johnny Rivers, Bobby Vee and Waylon Jennings (the latter’s take on “Well…All Right” was one of his final recordings). Bossed by Albert Lee and Glen D Hardin, The Crickets roll back their years to fine effect. Only thing is, where’s Macca?

Mavis Staples – Have A Little Faith

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Throughout a disappointing solo career, Mavis Staples has never matched the stirring atmospherics of the family's early gospel sides or the power of their '70s funk albums on Stax. Against the odds, Have A Little Faith, her first album since the Prince-produced The Voice in 1993, is a minor gem. A good band and decent songs bring out the best in her still-smouldering voice. Best of all is the spooky acoustic blues "Dying Man's Plea", but the slow-burn funk of "Ain't No Better Than You" and the moving tribute to her father, "Pop's Recipe", aren't far behind. NIGEL WILLIAMSON

Throughout a disappointing solo career, Mavis Staples has never matched the stirring atmospherics of the family’s early gospel sides or the power of their ’70s funk albums on Stax. Against the odds, Have A Little Faith, her first album since the Prince-produced The Voice in 1993, is a minor gem. A good band and decent songs bring out the best in her still-smouldering voice. Best of all is the spooky acoustic blues “Dying Man’s Plea”, but the slow-burn funk of “Ain’t No Better Than You” and the moving tribute to her father, “Pop’s Recipe”, aren’t far behind.

NIGEL WILLIAMSON

Frank Black Francis – Black Gold

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Frank Black Francis: the beginning and the end. One could treat these two dramatically different discs as bookends to Pixies history if the band hadn't just completed a triumphant reunion tour, while talk of a new album continues. But the release of the first tapings of songs that ended up on Come On Pilgrim and Surfer Rosa, paired here with fundamentally new arrangements of familiar material, seems to represent both the first and final chapters of Volume One. It's Black Francis Demo, recorded by producer Gary Smith three days before the band went into Fort Apache studios, to which Pixies obsessives will be most drawn. Despite their existence as preparatory run-throughs, these acoustic readings of songs like "Isla De Encanta" and "Break My Body" are passionate, far from cursory performances that, stripped of complex arrangements, highlight the peculiar melodies at their heart. But it's the inclusion of Frank Black Francis that makes this essential. Recorded in Hackney last year with Andy Diagram and Keith Moliné (currently David Thomas' Two Pale Boys), it sees Black take hold of some of the finest Pixies work and variously turn it inside out, strip it bare, dub it out or reduce it to brass rubbings, revealing how these bizarre tunes are capable of adapting to extreme surgery. The sweet but ghostly shell of "Caribou", the eerie horns of "Nimrod's Son", the Colliery Brass Band take on "The Holiday Song": it's all as exciting as hearing Come On Pilgrim for the first time. If Black's decision to experiment with his earliest work highlights the comparative banality of his recent solo material, one can only hope that the experience reinvigorates him in the future as much as it has here. Alone, perhaps, each of these CDs might appear to be somewhat scraping the Pixies barrel. But to pair them is, frankly, an inspired piece of marketing. Beginning with the very genesis of The Pixies, and ending with nothing short of a revelation, Frank Black Francis may be, as he himself calls it, "messing with the gospel". But somehow, this revisiting of his roots seems paradoxically to have expanded his horizons.

Frank Black Francis: the beginning and the end. One could treat these two dramatically different discs as bookends to Pixies history if the band hadn’t just completed a triumphant reunion tour, while talk of a new album continues. But the release of the first tapings of songs that ended up on Come On Pilgrim and Surfer Rosa, paired here with fundamentally new arrangements of familiar material, seems to represent both the first and final chapters of Volume One.

It’s Black Francis Demo, recorded by producer Gary Smith three days before the band went into Fort Apache studios, to which Pixies obsessives will be most drawn. Despite their existence as preparatory run-throughs, these acoustic readings of songs like “Isla De Encanta” and “Break My Body” are passionate, far from cursory performances that, stripped of complex arrangements, highlight the peculiar melodies at their heart.

But it’s the inclusion of Frank Black Francis that makes this essential. Recorded in Hackney last year with Andy Diagram and Keith Moliné (currently David Thomas’ Two Pale Boys), it sees Black take hold of some of the finest Pixies work and variously turn it inside out, strip it bare, dub it out or reduce it to brass rubbings, revealing how these bizarre tunes are capable of adapting to extreme surgery. The sweet but ghostly shell of “Caribou”, the eerie horns of “Nimrod’s Son”, the Colliery Brass Band take on “The Holiday Song”: it’s all as exciting as hearing Come On Pilgrim for the first time. If Black’s decision to experiment with his earliest work highlights the comparative banality of his recent solo material, one can only hope that the experience reinvigorates him in the future as much as it has here.

Alone, perhaps, each of these CDs might appear to be somewhat scraping the Pixies barrel. But to pair them is, frankly, an inspired piece of marketing. Beginning with the very genesis of The Pixies, and ending with nothing short of a revelation, Frank Black Francis may be, as he himself calls it, “messing with the gospel”. But somehow, this revisiting of his roots seems paradoxically to have expanded his horizons.

Lydia Lunch – Smoke In The Shadows

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A high-profile player on New York's no wave scene of the late '70s, Lydia Lunch went on to pursue spoken-word performance, underground film work, photography and academic lecturing. Music, however, has always been her first love. Smoke In The Shadows is Lunch's first LP since 1999 and may be the best thing she's done in years. Seedy but understated narratives are given noir-ish, jazz-lounge settings, and her trademark nihilistic shrieks are nowhere to be heard. Barry Adamson explores similar territory, but there are plenty of twists in Lunch's seductive tales and, with "Trick Baby", she even tries her hand at rap.

A high-profile player on New York’s no wave scene of the late ’70s, Lydia Lunch went on to pursue spoken-word performance, underground film work, photography and academic lecturing. Music, however, has always been her first love. Smoke In The Shadows is Lunch’s first LP since 1999 and may be the best thing she’s done in years. Seedy but understated narratives are given noir-ish, jazz-lounge settings, and her trademark nihilistic shrieks are nowhere to be heard.

Barry Adamson explores similar territory, but there are plenty of twists in Lunch’s seductive tales and, with “Trick Baby”, she even tries her hand at rap.

All Roads Lead To Land

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Clive Palmer distinguished himself as a founding member of The Incredible String Band together with Robin Williamson in 1965. This new album has little of the Incredible mystery about it. It's mostly Palmer alone in the studio, picking and plucking with a slow and stately gait. He sings with a quiet dignity, although his voice, at times uncertain, wavers over the notes. A valiant effort, but too much of this conventional chugging resembles work by another Englishman with the same first name: Clive Dunn.

Clive Palmer distinguished himself as a founding member of The Incredible String Band together with Robin Williamson in 1965. This new album has little of the Incredible mystery about it. It’s mostly Palmer alone in the studio, picking and plucking with a slow and stately gait.

He sings with a quiet dignity, although his voice, at times uncertain, wavers over the notes. A valiant effort, but too much of this conventional chugging resembles work by another Englishman with the same first name: Clive Dunn.

William Shatner – Has Been

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Largely written with Ben Folds—though Lemon Jelly also weigh in with the lovely "Together"—Shatner's second album in 35 years will be remembered for its magnificent version of Pulp's "Common People". Initially absurd, the novelty of Shatner—joined by Joe Jackson—declaiming Cocker's brilliantly satirical lyrics is soon eclipsed by the genuine verve of the performance. Henry Rollins lends his anger to the furious "I Can't Get Behind That", Aimee Mann pops up on the touching "Trying", and while Has Been refuses to take itself too seriously, going where few would ever go, it is definitely deserving of the cult status that it will inevitably earn. EDEN PARKE

Largely written with Ben Folds—though Lemon Jelly also weigh in with the lovely “Together”—Shatner’s second album in 35 years will be remembered for its magnificent version of Pulp’s “Common People”. Initially absurd, the novelty of Shatner—joined by Joe Jackson—declaiming Cocker’s brilliantly satirical lyrics is soon eclipsed by the genuine verve of the performance. Henry Rollins lends his anger to the furious “I Can’t Get Behind That”, Aimee Mann pops up on the touching “Trying”, and while Has Been refuses to take itself too seriously, going where few would ever go, it is definitely deserving of the cult status that it will inevitably earn.

EDEN PARKE

Various Artists – DFA Compilation #2

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James Murphy and Tim Goldsworthy's Death From Above label seriously impresses with this three-disc offering of brave new work from their coterie of thrift-store druids and cosmic crusaders. Percussive wig-out "Bellhead", the first release in 20 years by clandestine post-punk deities Liquid Liquid, may be the centrepiece, but it's the DFA-enhanced "Sunplus" by Boredoms offshoot J.O.Y., and Delia Gonzalez & Gavin Russom's majestic "Rise" that really flick the trip switch. Regulars like The Rapture, Black Dice and LCD Soundsystem are also in attendance, while Goldsworthy's 12-track mix provides a handy way into this out-there collection. PIERS MARTIN

James Murphy and Tim Goldsworthy’s Death From Above label seriously impresses with this three-disc offering of brave new work from their coterie of thrift-store druids and cosmic crusaders.

Percussive wig-out “Bellhead”, the first release in 20 years by clandestine post-punk deities Liquid Liquid, may be the centrepiece, but it’s the DFA-enhanced “Sunplus” by Boredoms offshoot J.O.Y., and Delia Gonzalez & Gavin Russom’s majestic “Rise” that really flick the trip switch.

Regulars like The Rapture, Black Dice and LCD Soundsystem are also in attendance, while Goldsworthy’s 12-track mix provides a handy way into this out-there collection.

PIERS MARTIN

Interview: Lauren Graham

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In Bad Santa your character Sue really, really likes Father Christmas. How do you prepare for a role like that? It was all very strange. I had to audition doing the scene where I first straddle Santa. So I'm basically in front of a room full of executives humping a chair. I really did love Billy Bo...

In Bad Santa your character Sue really, really likes Father Christmas. How do you prepare for a role like that?

It was all very strange. I had to audition doing the scene where I first straddle Santa. So I’m basically in front of a room full of executives humping a chair. I really did love Billy Bob though, even more than the chair. With a character like this you have to make a big decision. I just thought: she loves anything to do with Christmas, she totally doesn’t see what’s disgusting about this particular Santa. He fulfils a strange kinda fantasy for her. Plus, y’know, I’m on The Gilmore Girls here in the States where I’m known as a very talkative, verbal, cerebral character, so this was a huge relief in a way. This is a girl who’s just totally impulsive and goes with her guts. And Christmas just makes her very, very happy!

Is this the least sugary Christmas film ever made?

Yeah – I think a lot of people relate to it, to its negative view of the holidays. I mean, Billy Bob’s guy embodies every piece of resentment we have to the enforced jollity, all wrapped up into one. He’s just wonderful – somewhere under there is some kind of warmth, that’s what makes the film work. It makes it OK that he’s angry and awful and mean. Do I hate Christmas? I fall somewhere in between. I enjoy it, but I also get the movie ‘s misanthropy. I don’t like sentimental films. The sense of humour here is very dark. But it works.

You and Billy Bob and the weird kid form a bizarre kind of nuclear family eventually.

Yes, in our own strange way. Billy Bob is one of my favourite actors. He’s very generous, he found just small ways to make our relationship really specific. He lets you try things, goes: yeah okay, let’s see if that flies. It’s weird when you work with a movie star, cos you can sometimes get too nervous to do your own thing.

Really? But you’ve worked with Keanu! With Meryl! With, er, Renee Zellweger.

Sure I’ve done a few movies, lots of things, but in this case I really look up to Billy Bob. You need help sometimes to get over your own brand of starstruck craziness. When I did a film long ago with Meryl Streep – One True Thing – I basically couldn’t complete a sentence around her! Thank God Billy was so warm, cos as you can see in the film I had to be warm around him, hur hur.

How’s working with Terry Zwigoff?

Well I’d loved Ghost World. Terry’s just always positive. One of the surprises of the movie was no-one knew how it was gonna turn out. I mean, on the page, on the script, it was really, really vulgar! And yet Terry and Billy were both so sweet. But I still think it’s really really dirty. The humour carries it off. My father is totally appalled by it.

How come it did so well in The States? Bit “edgy”, surely?

Everyone was surprised by how well it did here. There was a fear, sure, but maybe people were saturated with soft, sweet, sentimental films. This tapped into an audience that’s perhaps been under-represented. I think we Americans are just as bitter as you Brits, y’know. That’s what we’re learning here, huh? Or we’re trying, in our way, making an effort to be as bitter as you guys!

Good luck with that. What’s up next for you?

I’ve done two films this summer. One is The Pacifier, with Vin Diesel. Is it action? You bet. Except it’s a family movie, sorta like Kindergarten Cop. Shut up. I did get to do one stunt, which was very thrilling for me. And lived to tell the tale. I’d felt insulted cos when I arrived on set I expected them to inquire if I intended to do any of my own stunts, but they’d already hired a stunt person without asking me. So with foolishness disguised as professional pride I dove in. And then there’s a movie with Jeff Bridges called The Moguls. More of an indie story about a smalltown loser, Jeff, who decides to make a porn film to make his family proud of him. Obviously I’m really attracted to smalltown losers. Just like Bad Santa, Jeff’s guy does some really perverted things in an effort to find personal triumph.

You almost won a Golden Globe?

Almost, yeah. Which is like – I lost. You don’t get The Gilmore Girls there, no? But you get Law And Order, I was in that. My mother lives in London and it’s always nice when anything I do comes out there, with the possible exception of Bad Santa. Otherwise I’m shipping her tapes of my show by the boxload. It’s doing well, and hey it’s great to have an acting job in the age of Reality TV.

By Chris Roberts

Interview: Sam Raimi

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Why remake The Grudge? My partner and I have set up this new company, Ghost House Pictures, and our goal is to make screaming rollercoaster rides of terror - outrageously scary types of films. So when I had the great fortune to see Takashi Shimizu’s original Ju-on The Grudge, which was so terrify...

Why remake The Grudge?

My partner and I have set up this new company, Ghost House Pictures, and our goal is to make screaming rollercoaster rides of terror – outrageously scary types of films. So when I had the great fortune to see Takashi Shimizu’s original Ju-on The Grudge, which was so terrifying that it knocked my socks off, I thought that this would be just the perfect film to kick off our slate.

Japanese horror has a very different feel to US horror – were you ever worried that something might’ve been, er, lost in translation?

Well, yes, there is a difference there, and certainly Ju-on The Grudge has a kind of beautiful lyrical quality to it. But I never thought that would be hard to translate – it’s just like a different melody that the audience gets used to. And at the same time the thing that is incredibly universal is the fear of the unknown, and Shimizu is a great master at manipulating our fears in terms of what’s in the great darkness that lies just beyond. So I never thought there’d be a problem with the translation.

You always wear a suit on set. Rumour says that it’s a nod to Hitchcock?

Although I have a tremendous amount of respect for Alfred Hitchcock, who is the true master of horror and the father of much modern filmmaking technique, I don’t actually wear a suit as a tribute to him. Believe it or not, I wear a suit and tie as a sign of respect to the cast and crew. I like a very serious and well ordered film set – for me it’s the best way to work, and out of that order I like to get a tremendous amount of creativity. And at the same time, the old masters used to dress in a very formal manner on set, and I always thought that it was supercool. Nowadays everyone’s got the nose rings and the coloured hair, so for me to wear the suit and tie is a different way to go.

How much of Spider-Man’s success (both 1 & 2) do you attribute to your direction?

I don’t know if it’s my direction, or my love for the character and what he represents. Like, take Catwoman. My guess is that if the filmmaker really loved the character of Catwoman then it could have been very successful. I had a feeling though, when I saw the trailer, that it was a creation that originated with the studio marketers. And the funny thing is, around fifteen years into my career, when my movies weren’t making any money, I decided that I couldn’t equate my own personal success with financial success. I had to tell myself that I’m just going to make the best picture that I can, get into the characters and tell a story that I think is really interesting. So when Spider-Man makes a lot of money I can’t just go back and say, well, the rule is still true, except for this one case!

By Kevin Maher

Interview: Siouxsie Sioux

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Having just released a new boxset of Banshees B-Sides, Downside Up, Uncut caught up with their legendary frontwoman after her ‘Siouxsie’s Dream Show’ performance at London’s Royal Festival Hall in October. UNCUT: Let’s start by talking about what happened the other night at the Royal Festival Hall? You stormed off and called the venue organizers “silly fuckers”? SIOUXSIE: Okay. Now way up front before we’d agreed to do the shows there, I said the one thing I want - I don’t care about champagne backstage or anything else – the one thing I need to specify is that I can’t have any Arctic drafts on stage. Because when I sing I open up and if I get Arctic drafts it kills my performance. And on stage that’s what was happening, despite them being told what I wanted. So you walked off? And called the Royal Festival Hall “a dump”. Ha! I’ve never seen a man jump over his drumkit as fast as Budgie when he ran after you. Were you two having a domestic backstage? Oh no, he’s right behind me. He was rooting for me. He said, “I’m glad you did that ‘cos I’m freezing my fucking balls off as well”. The whole incident was very punk rock. It was very punk rock but they made it that way, not me. They did something that they should have done from the beginning, which was block the draft. If they’d done that from the beginning then I wouldn’t have mentioned it. There’s currently a big punk retrospective exhibition on in London at the moment. How do you feel about the nostalgia industry that’s grown around punk? Punk nostalgia seems to be every year. “It’s 25 years!” “It’s 26 years!” I think people keep going back to it because it’s a thing that can’t be repeated. People try to reinvent the next big thing that’s going to shake everything up but it’s too self-conscious. What people don’t understand is when punk started it was so innocent and not aware of being looked at or being a phenomenon and that’s what everyone gets wrong. You can’t consciously create something that’s important, it’s a combination of chemistry, conditions, the environment, everything and it’s not something you can orchestrate. It’s a freak of nature and I love stuff like that. You were at the forefront of the London punk scene. Are you still in touch with any of the others from that original crowd? Yes, I saw Steve Jones recently. Actually, he said to me, “I really wish those early Pistols shows before it blew up in the media had been filmed.” He’s right, because not many people saw those early shows and they’re certainly what turned anyone who saw them around, not when the spotlight from Bill Grundy and all that happened. To see people actually trying to stay as far away from the front of the stage as possible. They were incredible. Did you find punk sexually liberating? I didn’t differentiate. It was the first thing that was unisex, and that kind of followed on from the androgyny of Bowie, but taking it further. There were tough girls and tough boys. It was trying to break down the stereotypes and it was the kind of thing where, for the first time, women were on a par and not seen as just objects. Though girls were objectified still. I found an early quote from you circa 1977. “Erogenous zones are overrated”? Did I say that? Nah, that’s probably Sid [Vicious]. It sounds like Sid. I wouldn’t say something like that. I’m fine with erogenous zones. I’ve never been anti-sex or anti-sexuality. I’m just anti-hypocrisy. I’ve always felt that what’s good for the goose is good for the gander. How did you feel when later on you became a kind of alternative sex symbol? Oh, I find all that hilarious. You can’t take anything like that seriously. I mean, sex is pretty hilarious anyway. You’ve spoken before about how much you hated the Siouxsie lookalike phenomenon. When people took it as being part of an army, or a uniform, yes. I was confused by it certainly. I didn’t really know how to handle it. But you became a genuine social type. You are, literally, an icon… Hmmm. … in the same way that Morrissey or Robert Smith begat copycat clones… Oh! But come on, there were more Siouxsies! [smiles] More of me than them. Anyway Morrissey and Robert… they’re just blobby compared to… [laughs] THE ICON! But yes, the amount of Siouxsie look-alikes was frightening. You always resisted the ‘Goth’ tag? Well, all those other bands, the doom, the black. That’s all they had. They took it seriously. There was always more to us than that. What I really resent most about people sticking labels on you is that it cuts off all the other elements of what you are because it can only deal with black and white; the cartoon. Because there’s no detail there, there’s no mood there. I know that the music and what we’ve done has got many levels of humour or seriousness or colour. So of course I found that ‘Goth’ tag very limiting and, rightly so, I didn’t go along with it. Why would I go along with having two arms and a leg cut off? Why would I allow myself to be like Boxing Helena? Banshees guitarist John McGeoch died earlier this year. When did you last see him? It was a long time ago. The sad thing with these Royal Festival Hall shows is that when we were first thinking of doing them at the end of last year, at the back of my mind I was thinking, “Maybe we should invite John?”, because we did “Obsession” [A Kiss In The Dreamhouse, 1982] and a few things from that period. And it was an idea. I was thinking, “God, I wonder how he is, I hope he’s okay, I hope he’s over the obvious problems he used to have with alcohol”. I hadn’t seen him in years, since bumping into him in the early ‘90s. But he was easily my favourite Banshees guitarist. An effortless talent. Very natural and very responsive. So tell us about this new Siouxsie & The Banshees’ B-sides boxset, Downside Up… It’s something I’ve wanted to do for a long, long time. For me, especially, I was always shouting to do B-sides. Steve Severin would be moaning, “I’ve forgotten how to play it” or go, “Oh, let’s just do the singles” but I was always, “Nah! I wanna do a B-side!” To me the B-sides are very spontaneous. The singles are very definite, we know what their purpose is for, but the B-sides I always think allow something spontaneous to happen to compliment the A-sides. To me it’s an element of the band which people who see it as black and white, as a cartoon of a goth band, just don’t get. They’re missing a great side to the Banshees. We can turn on a sixpence. Finally, what can we expect from your new solo album planned for next year? I think it’s gonna have an element of what the Royal Festival Hall shows had. It’s gonna be inspired by orchestra and brass. I started it ages ago and had to postpone it when I got ill, and I was really ill. I saw lots of specialists. At one point I was coughing up blood. I had this operation where they sent this fibre-optic circular saw inside me. I woke up with two bloody tampax up my nose. Two super-size tampax as well! When the nurse pulled it out she said, “This is gonna pull a bit”. I thought, “Oh my god, this is what it’s like to be embalmed and have your brains pulled out.” I was really scared of losing my voice. I’ve never had any vocal training before but I saw this great voice coach who told me I had absolutely nothing to worry about. She gave me some great exercises to do, warming up. So that’s why I was so pissed off getting this cold air at the Festival Hall. I was there in the moment and then all of a sudden it was like Arctic wind. Fuck off! It was definitely coitus interruptus. Interview: Simon Goddard Downside Up is out now on Polydor

Having just released a new boxset of Banshees B-Sides, Downside Up, Uncut caught up with their legendary frontwoman after her ‘Siouxsie’s Dream Show’ performance at London’s Royal Festival Hall in October.

UNCUT: Let’s start by talking about what happened the other night at the Royal Festival Hall? You stormed off and called the venue organizers “silly fuckers”?

SIOUXSIE: Okay. Now way up front before we’d agreed to do the shows there, I said the one thing I want – I don’t care about champagne backstage or anything else – the one thing I need to specify is that I can’t have any Arctic drafts on stage. Because when I sing I open up and if I get Arctic drafts it kills my performance. And on stage that’s what was happening, despite them being told what I wanted.

So you walked off?

And called the Royal Festival Hall “a dump”. Ha!

I’ve never seen a man jump over his drumkit as fast as Budgie when he ran after you. Were you two having a domestic backstage?

Oh no, he’s right behind me. He was rooting for me. He said, “I’m glad you did that ‘cos I’m freezing my fucking balls off as well”.

The whole incident was very punk rock.

It was very punk rock but they made it that way, not me. They did something that they should have done from the beginning, which was block the draft. If they’d done that from the beginning then I wouldn’t have mentioned it.

There’s currently a big punk retrospective exhibition on in London at the moment. How do you feel about the nostalgia industry that’s grown around punk?

Punk nostalgia seems to be every year. “It’s 25 years!” “It’s 26 years!” I think people keep going back to it because it’s a thing that can’t be repeated. People try to reinvent the next big thing that’s going to shake everything up but it’s too self-conscious. What people don’t understand is when punk started it was so innocent and not aware of being looked at or being a phenomenon and that’s what everyone gets wrong. You can’t consciously create something that’s important, it’s a combination of chemistry, conditions, the environment, everything and it’s not something you can orchestrate. It’s a freak of nature and I love stuff like that.

You were at the forefront of the London punk scene. Are you still in touch with any of the others from that original crowd?

Yes, I saw Steve Jones recently. Actually, he said to me, “I really wish those early Pistols shows before it blew up in the media had been filmed.” He’s right, because not many people saw those early shows and they’re certainly what turned anyone who saw them around, not when the spotlight from Bill Grundy and all that happened. To see people actually trying to stay as far away from the front of the stage as possible. They were incredible.

Did you find punk sexually liberating?

I didn’t differentiate. It was the first thing that was unisex, and that kind of followed on from the androgyny of Bowie, but taking it further. There were tough girls and tough boys. It was trying to break down the stereotypes and it was the kind of thing where, for the first time, women were on a par and not seen as just objects. Though girls were objectified still.

I found an early quote from you circa 1977. “Erogenous zones are overrated”?

Did I say that? Nah, that’s probably Sid [Vicious]. It sounds like Sid. I wouldn’t say something like that. I’m fine with erogenous zones. I’ve never been anti-sex or anti-sexuality. I’m just anti-hypocrisy. I’ve always felt that what’s good for the goose is good for the gander.

How did you feel when later on you became a kind of alternative sex symbol?

Oh, I find all that hilarious. You can’t take anything like that seriously. I mean, sex is pretty hilarious anyway.

You’ve spoken before about how much you hated the Siouxsie lookalike phenomenon.

When people took it as being part of an army, or a uniform, yes. I was confused by it certainly. I didn’t really know how to handle it.

But you became a genuine social type. You are, literally, an icon…

Hmmm.

… in the same way that Morrissey or Robert Smith begat copycat clones…

Oh! But come on, there were more Siouxsies! [smiles] More of me than them. Anyway Morrissey and Robert… they’re just blobby compared to… [laughs] THE ICON! But yes, the amount of Siouxsie look-alikes was frightening.

You always resisted the ‘Goth’ tag?

Well, all those other bands, the doom, the black. That’s all they had. They took it seriously. There was always more to us than that. What I really resent most about people sticking labels on you is that it cuts off all the other elements of what you are because it can only deal with black and white; the cartoon. Because there’s no detail there, there’s no mood there. I know that the music and what we’ve done has got many levels of humour or seriousness or colour. So of course I found that ‘Goth’ tag very limiting and, rightly so, I didn’t go along with it. Why would I go along with having two arms and a leg cut off? Why would I allow myself to be like Boxing Helena?

Banshees guitarist John McGeoch died earlier this year. When did you last see him?

It was a long time ago. The sad thing with these Royal Festival Hall shows is that when we were first thinking of doing them at the end of last year, at the back of my mind I was thinking, “Maybe we should invite John?”, because we did “Obsession” [A Kiss In The Dreamhouse, 1982] and a few things from that period. And it was an idea. I was thinking, “God, I wonder how he is, I hope he’s okay, I hope he’s over the obvious problems he used to have with alcohol”. I hadn’t seen him in years, since bumping into him in the early ‘90s. But he was easily my favourite Banshees guitarist. An effortless talent. Very natural and very responsive.

So tell us about this new Siouxsie & The Banshees’ B-sides boxset, Downside Up…

It’s something I’ve wanted to do for a long, long time. For me, especially, I was always shouting to do B-sides. Steve Severin would be moaning, “I’ve forgotten how to play it” or go, “Oh, let’s just do the singles” but I was always, “Nah! I wanna do a B-side!” To me the B-sides are very spontaneous. The singles are very definite, we know what their purpose is for, but the B-sides I always think allow something spontaneous to happen to compliment the A-sides. To me it’s an element of the band which people who see it as black and white, as a cartoon of a goth band, just don’t get. They’re missing a great side to the Banshees. We can turn on a sixpence.

Finally, what can we expect from your new solo album planned for next year?

I think it’s gonna have an element of what the Royal Festival Hall shows had. It’s gonna be inspired by orchestra and brass. I started it ages ago and had to postpone it when I got ill, and I was really ill. I saw lots of specialists. At one point I was coughing up blood. I had this operation where they sent this fibre-optic circular saw inside me. I woke up with two bloody tampax up my nose. Two super-size tampax as well! When the nurse pulled it out she said, “This is gonna pull a bit”. I thought, “Oh my god, this is what it’s like to be embalmed and have your brains pulled out.” I was really scared of losing my voice. I’ve never had any vocal training before but I saw this great voice coach who told me I had absolutely nothing to worry about. She gave me some great exercises to do, warming up. So that’s why I was so pissed off getting this cold air at the Festival Hall. I was there in the moment and then all of a sudden it was like Arctic wind. Fuck off! It was definitely coitus interruptus.

Interview: Simon Goddard

Downside Up is out now on Polydor