This new film about Oasis’s glory years is rousing, heart-rending and really f**king funny
That said, this is a tune that comes bound in a guitar riff that sounds like a stuttering velociraptor, while the metaphorical allusion to a crumbling family unit as sinking steamboat certainly beats having the same jeans on for four days as intriguing subject matter. It might lack the visceral punch of their live show, yet like that experience, it’s the input of singer Frank Carter that makes Gallows such an exciting, vital – nay, special – band.
“The SS Death lost everything/And no-one here can fucking swim,” cries Carter, and it’s this sincere vulnerability and sensitivity (Eh? – Morrissey Ed), aligned with their topless swaggering, sexually poised hardcore machismo – and aided by the
nous that, like Oasis with prison tattoos, they blatantly think they’re the mutt’s nuts – that makes Gallows the only band this writer gives a shit about right now. If you see them live anytime soon you’ll understand why in an instant. If you give this a spin now, you’ll understand a mere nanosecond after that.
Delving into the murk and noise of their past, the Boston veterans’ second post-reunion album is a superlative indie rock collection
Two kings of the indie dancefloor unite for a warm, timeless take on 20th century pop and rock
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