Jamie T’s second album in two years is a punk, rap, pop and hardcore tour de force
It's nothing you haven't heard before, it's just sheer exhilarating pop music as a purgative, redeeming force...
Enter 'Yeah'. Recorded in New York with ex-Cars tall man Ric Ocasek, much of the LP sounds - quel surprise! - like The Cars. Or like 'Cars', by Gary Numan. Which is great, actually. Ocasek's production lends a slickly compact, hard-edged efficiency to The Wannadies' distinctively euphoric guitar-cuddling - positioning it somewhere between '80s electro synth-pop and cartoon metal. Each song comes on like a full-throttle bungee jump, all bludgeoning guitars and layers of fizzy keyboard noises that positively demand to be played at window-rattling volume. The Wannadies may not have spent the last three years in fits of innovative experimentation, but they've been gathering energy like an incipient hurricane.
[/I]). The LP reaches its emotional nadir in the echoey, string-infused 'Low Enough' - one of the few moments a real sense of anguish slips through Ocasek's ergonomic sonic net.
Nevertheless, by penultimate track 'Ball', The Wannadies have forged a resolution. "Grow up grow old and die/It's all a waste of time", Pdr Wiksten sighs, before a crunch of guitar smashes pessimism to bits and he continues, "...Lord knows we're having a ball". It's the new Wannadies attitude writ large - sometimes life stinks, but fuck it, turn up the music and let's have fun while we can. 'Yeah' isn't deep, and it's nothing you haven't heard before, it's just sheer exhilarating pop music as a purgative, redeeming force. Sometimes it doesn't need to be anything more.
Character studies and ready melodies abound in the latest record by the Oxford quartet
A battle-like record where fear and dread rule
Another gripping Pedro Almodóvar mystery, full of vibrant visuals and emotional revelations
The Californian succeeds, once again, in exposing the ugliness of mankind. It’ll get under your skin