Two kings of the indie dancefloor unite for a warm, timeless take on 20th century pop and rock
[a]Nick Cave[/a] once stated that thematically his work was chained to a bowl of vomit....
At least since 1989's 'The Burning World' LP Gira has swapped the slothful pace and sickening volume of his early records for an acoustic country sound. Backed here by a new group, one containing many familiar faces from the New York underground, he once again proves that he is capable of moments of astonishing, blinding beauty - especially the harp-embellished rhapsody of 'This Is Mine', one of the finest songs he's written.
Yet for a man who obviously sees beauty all around him, he's only too willing to destroy it. With a voice 20 fathoms deep and sinking, he spends much of this record in all too traditional territory: drunks are raped by dogs, snakes crawl through eye holes and tongues are removed. An intense violence and hatred is shot through every last second of this 70-minute tour of purgatory. Gira, it seems, is unable to move on. Which is why he remains what he's always been: a voice in the shadows, a test for the strong of stomach.
It's a mire he'll never leave. This is a beautiful album. It's just that it's made by an ugly man.
This unruly second album delivers a sucker punch to anyone who had the Kent duo down as a novelty act
Justin Vernon’s third Bon Iver album is a weird and wonderful thing
With their bigger and better second album, London-based indie/dance band Boxed In have earned their breakout moment
Islamic mythology meets the horror of war in this claustrophobic, low-budget spine-tingler