Björk and Yorke go back to nature

Björk, for me, is one of those artists where you have the utmost respect for their talent, originality, and innovation. But it's pretty rare that you actually want to listen to their music.

A few others fall into this personal category, mostly experimental and ambient acts like Aphex Twin (although Windowlicker is always good fun), or progressive rock acts. Bar their first album, The Mars Volta's output is far too dense and jumbled for me, and to be honest I can only be arsed to listen to Pink Floyd's more popular material. There are only so many hours in the day.

Actually, I can say the same of most experimental jazz as well. I've tried listening to Kind Of Blue and Bitches Brew, Miles Davis's pair of supposedly seminal albums, but I get four minutes into the first (17 minute) track, and the distinct lack of decent hooks leaves me dying for a blast of Toxic. Or a fishing tackle shop.

I do find a few Björk songs an enjoyable listen - Hyperballad's spacey, crumbled beauty in particular, as well as breakthrough hit Play Dead and the camp theatrics of It's Oh So Quiet, with its revolutionary video. But I am generally happy to appreciate her intriguing ice-siren nuggets from afar.

However, Ms. (bet you didn't know this was her surname!) Guðmundsdóttir's new single, Náttúra, might have stoked my interest.

The song, written by Björk, is a shuddering percussion-fest, like a group of African tribal drummers playing murder in the dark. Over them, little Björk - still as freakishly beautiful as ever - does her usual summon-the-gales vocal act, but, for the first time, entirely in Icelandic.

Most of the other sonic elements come from Thom Yorke, in the form of those splayed, half-asleep mouth movements which characterised much of his band Radiohead's fourth album, Kid A. He and Björk are long-time collaborators, having worked together on her song I've Seen It All, which soundtracked the film Dancer In The Dark.

This is essentially augmented only by a few 'nature' sounds - something that sounds like a building tidal wave or earthquake, far off in the distance - and a few rattling cymbals. And that's it. It's like drum and bass, without the bass.

But it's quite interesting nonetheless, and all proceeds from the sale of the single go to the Náttúra Foundation, which works for the protection of Iceland's stunning natural environment.

Greatest pre-going out song?

Last night I was still hungover from an epic Wednesday, but had already organised to go out again, with different friends, and was not about to bail. It was with some trepidation that I cracked open my first ale, and though it tasted beautiful, the urge to get hammered and go mental as usual was sadly lacking.

It was at around this time that some rather familar sounds begin to build and surge from upstairs, like a twisted Spaghetti Western. My housemate had Pendulum on again.

Propane Nightmares, from latest album In Silico, is possibly the most suitable song I have ever heard for these kind of times. Its swirling chemical buzz is like a magnet, a rocket up the arse of a flagging spirit and a flagging liver. I actually had to stop what I was doing (playing the acoustic guitar) and head up to bask in the hurtling freedom of those adrenaline-fuelled synths and Rob Swire's timeless, effortless vocals, calling soothingly from the heavens.

I was out until 5am, and full of energy throughout a glorious evening.

So I think PN could be the best pre-going out song in existence. But I wait with anticipation for something even better to prove me wrong.

Long Live The Queen

Just a quick note here, to heartily recommend that you download a charity single called Long Live The Queen, by Frank Turner.

Frank is the former frontman of iconic hardcore band Million Dead, and is now enjoying considerable success as a solo artist. His music is largely a fusion of country, folk, and feelgood, upbeat acoustic music, and lyrically he possesses both a delightful rhythmic ability and pleasing turn of phrase, but also searing honesty and a down-to-earth, often humorous approach which appeals to a huge range of people.

Long Live The Queen, from second album Love Ire & Song, is one of his best pieces thus far. It concerns one of Frank's closest friends, Lex, who died of breast cancer. It's a true story, and perhaps a rather depressing subject. But rather than a 'funeral song' this is more in the 'celebration of life' category, recounting the tale of one last glorious night out in London town.

The single was released on Monday, and all proceeds go to breast cancer research. Sara Cox (nah, not a fan either, but still...) has apparently made it her Record of the week. Check out the video, which is good fun, and buy the song at iTunes or Play.com. Make sure you get the single version though, so it counts towards the charts and can get Frank and his cause the publicity they deserve!

More info at http://www.frank-turner.com/.

Actions speak louder

In a little Manchester club on Tuesday night, several extremely talented musicians proved conclusively that vocals are far from mandatory in great rock music.

Texas quartet This Will Destroy You were the top draw in a bill of frighteningly exhilarating, instrumental post-rock acts. M6 traffic meant I missed Lancashire-based openers Charlieshero, but their myspace suggests a promising, gently angular addition to the genre.

The Music Box, just up from Oxford Road and boasting great acoustics and ridiculously expensive alcholic beverages, felt like far too small a venue for such epic, galaxy-straddling music.

As a relatively recent devotee to the world of spiralling, effects laden guitars, brooding bass and icy melodicism, it was interesting to glance around the 80 or so other punters, trying to ascertain what kind of demographic the bands on show appealed to.

The answer is: anyone and everyone. Cute indie-ish couples, a few older guys with beards, pretty student girls, and a few groups like ours, of fairly uncategorisable lads. The average age was probably in the early 20s. Progressive rock is not just for grizzled old Floyd devotees anymore.

Maybe that's because this is not music that looks inwards, but to the heavens. Each piece is layered and developed beautifully, evoking everything from intense drama to starry-eyed serenity. And most of all, even more than the best produced pop music, these acts SOUND amazing. The instrument tones are finely perfected to arouse the highest sense of emotion and elation.

Each of the acts I saw had a clearly distinct ethos, however. Codes In The Clouds - from Dartford, Kent - boasted an ebullient array of revolving riffs, pushing each song higher and higher. At one point it seemed like every progression your ear might wish for, or even imagine, was fulfilled just seconds later. They were excellent.

Another Texan band, mom, are traversing Europe with TWDY, and were radically different from the other acts on show. With just a double bass, violin, and drum machine, they weaved ethereal, frozen folk across the assembled throng, like Sigur Ros around a snow-hole campfire. While less brain-frazzlingly engaging than the other acts, they kept the embers red for the main event.

This Will Destroy You are a fantastic band. Clearly heavily influenced by Explosions In The Sky, they nonetheless fashion a sonic template endowed with considerably more direction, clarity, and power. 'Burial On The Presidio Banks', 'Threads', and the oddly named 'The World is Our ___' best showcase their stately genius.

The one odd thing was that, having purchased a rather fetching, intriguingly designed tshirt from a beardy guy at the merch stand before the gig, I later realised he was the band's lead guitarist. It had been troubling me that I could only see three of the band on stage, and that I could not trace the origin of the soaring lead lines I was hearing. Assuming, with some disappointment, that TWDY were using samples, it was not until I altered my vantage point slightly that I realised said beardy guy was sitting on a chair on the far side of the stage, expertly picking out chiming tunage.

Give the post-rock a go, kids. Life's not all Rihanna and Hadouken!

Zzzzzz In The City

Very clever, Gary Lightbody.

Yep, your band is all, you know, MASSIVE, now. So the comeback single - after you sealed everlasting wedding reception playlist ubiquity with 'Chasing Cars' - has to be MASSIVE, too.

But not too massive - just vaguely upbeat and memorable, so Radios' 1 and 2 will both play it, and you can still seal the deal (and a few hundred thousand album sales) in a couple of months, with a nice big ballad.

It worked last time for Snow Patrol, who used to be almost endearingly curious, if almost entirely unknown, and are now Coldplay without the nice guitar sounds.

'You're All I Have', the first cut from fourth album Eyes Open (took me ages to remember that title) was a catchy bit of pop-rock fluff, and the majority of the British population could probably sing it while unconscious.

If it ain't broke, don't fix it I guess.

Hence new single 'Take Back The City' is possibly the most cynically boring song written this year.

It's an easy formula to follow: strummed acoustic guitar with every ounce of life compressed out of it, so it sounds like a one-dimensional synthesiser. Bring the electric in for a few power chords in the chorus, but slice any edge off the distortion. Constant, almost idiotically simple bass-drum led beat.

Each verse uses precisely the same, inanely repeated melody, and such is the air of phoned-in, perfectly packaged INDIElite, that every fourth line Lightbody throws in a piss-weak 'woah-oah-oah' instead of actual lyrics. Woah what Gary?? Maybe someone gave him a little tickle in the recording booth.

And fill it with lyrics about how you love 'this city', and 'the fun never stops' , so it can be neatly applied to anyone in the country who has a bit of regional pride (so, most people). Lightbody could be singing about Glasgow, Manchester, hell even Gloucester.

Iglu & Hartly's recent top five single 'In This City', it could be argued, ploughs a similar 'easy target' demographic furrow. Sing about something everyone can relate to, and it's paydirt. Of course there's a place for that, if you're saying something interesting about it.

I&G's song, while far from lyrical genius, at least attempts to describe the transition from small town to conurbation and the conflicting feelings present. Lightbody deals solely in empty platitudes like "It's a mess / It's a start / It's a flowing work of art".

Of course, there's the obvious argument that complaining about Snow Patrol making middle-aged music solely for commercial gain is like being shocked at the executives of failed banks claiming their multi-million payoffs. It might be a horrible spectacle, but it's going to line their pockets, and what the hell else did you expect?

But that doesn't mean I'm going to listen to it. Try it if you like, I'm sure once will be enough...