DJ Die

Two conflicting worlds ‘reprazent’-ed on one fluid disc. This spliced double A-side comes courtesy of core Reprazent member, DJ Die, and his brand new label - Clear Skyz. ‘Slow Burn’ is an unrelenting drive into horror-flick intensity and long-haul growling funk. ‘The Reasons Why’, however, is a cheery glide into rapturous soul, thanks mainly to the vocal abilitiies of Bristolian scenester, Ben Westbeech. Such complexities can only do superbly on the UK scene. Hence, both tracks have already seen plenty of spin time in the places that really matter.

The Go! Team

Brighton’s ballsiest band rolls, yet again, into town for another animated pep rally with ‘Wrath Of Marcie’, the latest single from their Proof Of Youth album. This ordered bedlam flaunts the Go! Team stamp of distinction. This is due, in part, to Kaori’s distant resonant wailings and the hyper cheerleading rap of frontwoman, Ninja. Corralling ebullient brass, jaunty percussion and The Rockford Files theme tune, this textured fanfare puts colour into sound.

Listening without moving is simply impossible.

‘Wrath Of Marcie’, out November 19th on Memphis Industries

Sara Berg

This year’s award for the Longest Album Title goes to Sweden’s Sara Berg for When I Was A Young Child I Used To Feel Pleasure From Playing With Others.

Turgid or what?

Nope, Berg certainly wont be lighting up the 2008 Mercury Prize hotline. And the cover art depicting her as Joan of Arc - pensively gazing off into some fantastical future where she alone heralds musical sovereignty - is rather ropey too. Yet, listen closely and there are some glacier-pure moments on this album.

In ‘Young Child’ Berg’s dark electropop is reminiscent of fellow Scandanavians, The Knife. Whilst the frenetic synth-beats of ‘Babies & Beautiful Things’ almost smells of ‘Blue Monday’, only to be skewed by Berg’s Dusty Springfield warble.

Like Ellen Allien, only not as German. And not as good.

Andrew Weatherall

When Soma Records served up their dark electro Sci.Fi.Hi.Fi collection there was much dilating of pupils and gnashing of teeth. With Sci.Fi.Lo.Fi – the clever Frasier to SFHF’s dumb Cheers - the knowing reach into the record bag of cool is an honour rightly bestowed upon Andrew Weatherall. Yes, Andrew Weatherall of Bjork, New Order and The Orb remix wizardry; he of Beth Orton and Primal Scream production sorcery; he of Kiss FM migrainery.

Yet, do not expect bucketsful of synth and showers of orgasmic beats because Weatherall has shunned the blinding lazers and finger-pointing techno whoop-whoop. This enticing new spin-off is strictly organic produce, and in parts is a little tainted.

The choicest cuts of exotic meat have been culled and dished up in a roughshod chronology. The vinyl-only entrance policy begins with a fallout of obscure 50s bebop as Joe Boot And The Fabulous Winds swoon over ‘Rock N Roll Radio’ and The Rebs keep pushing the horn and double bass throughout ‘Renegade’.

Psychodelic 60s rockabilly gets an airing in (great name alert) Hipbone Slim And The Knee Tremblers’ Bo Diddley–esque ‘Snake Pit’ and continues through into the classic ‘I Want Candy’ by the blues-thumping Strangeloves.

Killing Joke, Primal Scream, The Fall and T-Rex provide the rump of the album but the tastiest morsels are closer to the bone: The Cramps rambunctious ‘New Kind Of Kick’; the Tropics Of Cancer’s murmurred cloudy mambo jive interpretation ‘Upside Down’; and Shockheaded Peters’ chilling Human League-do-Bossa Nova ‘I Bloodbrother Be’.

It is this inner selection of Nick Cave post-punk bile, and the B-movie artwork that encases it, that should relieve Tarantino of all sleepless nights spent worrying about his next movie soundtrack.

Overall, an eclectic blend that will end those Now That’s What I Call Music Xmas gifts you receive from clueless family.

Black Ghosts

Frightening fact (1): ex-Simian Simon Lord watched Hammer Horror movies from an early age and resided next to cemetery in a house plagued by poltergeist activity and pagan imagery.

Frightening fact (2): ex-Wiseguy Theo Keating’s Dad invented the Bio Activity Translator, a musical device that produced a low electrical hum when fastened to plant stems. Obviously, an odd pairing, so is it any surprise that together they create sinister pop noir?

The Black Ghosts’ ‘Some Way Through This’ is a ballad with a macabre twist - it provides a flagrant portal to the dingier parts of love’s psyche. Floating atop a trembling spine of Portishead orchestral strings, this louche requiem is hauntingly melodramatic – “If this house was on fire would you tell me your desire, if my hands were round your throat would you tell me what I need to know”.

With the addition of a few dark remixes and a video containing prostitution, theft, suicide and murder (acted out by stop-animation Lego) this single is implicitly disturbing. It’s like Tricky and Hot Chip meeting in the dead of night to make love on the grave stones of their former lovers - David Bowie, Datarock and Tiefschwarz.

Gallows

Riding the acclaim of their recent Orchestra Of Wolves album, ‘In The Belly Of A Shark’ is set continue Gallows’ pandemic success, capping it with a frightening air of British hostility.

Taking to the ears with a V8 engine of bass, it hurtles across the plains of Testosterone Valley at speeds far exceeding anything Johnny Cash ever mustered. It screams headlong toward a mountain of jealous introversion (the Shark), a dark and lonely place somewhere on the psyche’s dusty horizon (note: this isn’t a song about the actual innards of a shark).

At the helm of this incensed vehicle is the man-beast himself, singer/shouter Frank Carter. Charging down the shark, Carter screeches over blind rises of pounding drums, rounding corners paved with old-school punk and skidding through hairpins greased wth metal ferocity. Gased up on the blues-drenched funk riffs of Jet and The Films, and taking disorientating directions from Helmet and Grinderman, the peddle goes fully to the nose-bleeding metal with the help of some Sick Of It All and Ligthning Bolt frantic antics.

This abrasive steel-on-steel juggernaught is the best thing to come out of Watford since the Metropolitan fast train to Moorgate. Just be careful it doesn’t run you over.