This new film about Oasis’s glory years is rousing, heart-rending and really f**king funny
The Little Ones
Well, props are due to Heavenly Recordings, who originally signed the band and stuck with them despite the absence of major-label funding and saved The Little Ones’ debut proper from gathering dust in EMI’s vault. Yet the band themselves deserve the lion’s share of credit. Over 11 songs they’ve assembled an ensemble of tunes so melodic, catchy and bright you imagine the legendary UK indie’s hand was forced into pressing up copies the moment they heard it. You know that TV footage of baby birds eating chewed-up worms from their mothers’ mouths? Or doe-eyed seals skidding across the Antarctic ice? ‘Morning Tide’ is so fabulously cute it’s like viewing all of the above through a fog of candy floss.
There’s little deviation from the pop blueprint laid out so scrumptiously on their first outing, and – as deeply in thrall to melody as they obviously are – you imagine The Little Ones would struggle to write a song that didn’t sound akin to the sun sparking. Not that this matters one jot; from the title tune, to previous single ‘Ordinary Song’, to album highlight ‘All Your Modern Boxes’, the band forage through every trick ever deployed in the history of indie-pop to incite smiling. There’s Lemonheads-indebted handclaps throughout; the reverb-drenched jangle of Teenage Fanclub; even wry, wordy Guided By Voices-style outbursts, courtesy of singer and songwriter Ed Reyes. ‘Morning Tide’ is a collection of songs that take the word ‘pop’ in ‘pop music’ literally, bursting with effervescence and joy. That’s not all; the record’s very release is evidence that sometimes the good can arise from the metaphorical swamp of shit.
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