The Walkmen, The Head & The Heart - Birmingham Glee Club

Comedy clubs like the Glee make for surprisingly good music venues, offering an intimacy you don’t get at your local corporate-sponsored concert hall. So it proves tonight, with support act The Head And The Heart quickly winning over the crowd with their energetic performance and sweet harmonies. Their tunes bring to mind a more Americana-influenced Arcade Fire, and having recently signed to Sub Pop, they could be ones to watch.

The Walkmen are a very unassuming bunch, engaging in very little crowd interaction at all. Some might tag them as aloof, but they simply let their performance do the talking for them. And when they really up the intensity, as on the raucous ‘Angela Surf City’, it’s hard to deny the power they possess. Frontman Hamilton Leithauser wrestles with the mic stand as if it insulted him personally, and sings every line as if it’s his last.

They are equally capable of sweet, delicate melody too, as shown on new album cut ‘While I Shovel The Snow’, a tune that holds the crowd in rapt silence. It’s a fairly mature crowd in attendance, and every song is given hushed respect during and big ovations after. The crowd get lively in the encore as the band roll out stone-cold classic ‘The Rat’, but the simple fact is the don’t really have to. The strength of latest album Lisbon, as demonstrated by the tunes played tonight, shows how The Walkmen have grown into a mature, thinking-man’s indie outfit.

Amplifier - The Octopus

Amplifier are clearly not a band for whom half-heartedness will do. This double album can only be described as a labour of love for the band, coming over four years after last record The Insider. Around the time of their debut album, Amplifier were seen as kindred spirits of bands like Muse and My Vitriol: ambition heavy space rock for teenage rocker kids to get stoned to. While Muse pointed their spaceship towards the big football stadium in the sky and My Vitriol disappeared, Amplifier kept on making the epic, overblown music they enjoy, with no concession to fashion or fad.

The Octopus is made up of 16 tracks and clocks in at a solid 2 hours, and the kitchen sink has most definitely been left in along with anything else the band could find. Following the Floyd-like opening sound collage of The Runner, this album is a stream of riff upon galaxy-sized riff. Interglacial Spell bases itself on a lurching, militarised rhythm, and The Wave has a surprisingly poppy, finger-clicking chorus section that breaks up the bombast nicely.

Let’s face it, the band isn’t going to shrug off the “prog” tag with a double album, but the songs themselves fit this description easily. Lyrically, Balamir ticks all the space rock boxes, taking trips to ‘distant suns’ and calling on ‘masters of the universe’. It is all a bit Dungeons & Dragons, but suits the musical pomposity well.

The title track shifts from doomy atmospherics into yet more crunching riffage. The old clichés about double albums being too big to digest in one go do hold true here, especially when some tracks push easily towards and past the ten- minute mark. The brilliantly titled Trading Dark Matter On The Stock Exchange fails to live up to its name, being directionless and excessive despite the mass over-indulgence that surrounds it.

The second disc isn’t quite as memorable as the first, with the possible exception of the energetic, strong melodies of Golden Ratio, but the most impressive thing about this record is its depth. Yes it is huge, seemingly impenetrable at first, but break this album down and you will find much to enjoy here.

3.5/5

Esben and the Witch - Violet Cries

Having been touted as a promising new prospect for a good while now, it seems that the release of a new record and the turn into a new year have seen the indie press decide that Esben and the Witch are due for a big breakthrough in 2011. The magnitude of that breakthrough may not be as huge as our dear NME friends are predicting however, as this is a bleak, cavernous record with little light to temper the shade.

Frontwoman Rachel Davies’s voice bears some resemblance to that of Juanita Stein from goth-poppers Howling Bells – although the Esben & The Witch sound is altogether more menacing. It would seem that Portishead’s brilliant Third LP has been a big influence on Esben, the hypnotic arrangements of Beth Gibbons and co. being well mined for inspiration here. Opener Argyria is a fine example of what the band are capable of, growing steadily from delicately plucked guitar into a hail of noise and Davies’ haunted howl.

The record is full of hypnosis-inducing melody and repetition, occasionally recalling the post-rock textures of Mogwai or Explosions In The Sky with an extra helping of gothic darkness. Light Streams encapsulates the band’s sound well, gradually building into a soporific crescendo before a closing section where Davies, almost a cappella, wails “We’ll cut the sun from it’s moorings” as if the world is about to end.

The disappointing fact about the record is that it rarely rises from its hazy stupor and injects some energy into proceedings. When it does, as on the sudden dancefloor ending of Eumenides, it is genuinely exciting. A shame then, that the band couldn’t introduce more variety through the rest of this debut.

3/5

Iron and Wine - Kiss Each Other Clean

Sam Beam’s fourth album as Iron & Wine continues the expansion of sonic exploration that began on 2007’s excellent LP The Shepherd’s Dog. That album saw Beam add elements of reggae and psychedelia to his understated, pastoral melodies. This new record throws more influences into the Iron & Wine musical cauldron, with snatches of classic 70s radio rock, funk and electronica all complementing some of the strongest melodies Beam has put together yet.

Opener Walking Far From Home is genuinely stunning; various sonic textures shifting under Beam’s endless stream of often-bleak imagery. The song defies any kind of genre–referencing, and its climax confirms the otherworldliness of the song’s mood. Tree By The River is more typical in feel, built on layers of glorious harmonies and gently strummed guitar. The hook comes as instantly as the song kicks in, and will remain wedged in your head forever after hearing it.

Beam has been quoted as saying this album is “like the music people heard in their parent’s car growing up… that early-to-mid-’70s FM, radio-friendly music." Tree By The River backs this statement up well, as does the lush Half Moon, which features some gorgeous female doo-wop backing vocals and an effortlessly blissful atmosphere.

But there is contrast to be found here, such as on the funky, saxophone-laden Big Burned Hand and the bizarre sound collage of Rabbit Will Run. The latter features frequent shifts of feel, with everything from birdcall samples to tribal xylophones and a jazz-influenced ending. Closer Your Fake Name Is Good Enough For Me sees the saxophones come back again, before breaking down into a mantra-like coda that gradually grows into a thrilling cacophony.

The two tracks that bookend this record are great examples of Sam Beam’s songwriting at its best. Both eschew traditional structure and feel, forgoing choruses and focusing on the development of Beam’s lyrical imagery. He can write a great hook, as he demonstrates elsewhere on this great record, and it’s hard to think of anyone else out there capable of writing such stunningly conceived and poetic songs.

4.5/5