Nuggets - 23 November 2007

Republic Of Loose - Aaagh!
By Joanna Booth
If anyone makes the old adage that it’s not where you come from that matters, it’s where you’re going ring true, it’s Republic Of Loose. They’re all Dubliners, but you couldn’t get much further from introspective Joycean monologues, Oirish fiddle-dee-dee or even Gray/Rice-ish solemn balladeering. Their influences are planted squarely in the good ol’ US of A. They’re a sort of Celtic Outkast, pumping out this second album of sleazy soul, picking up some critical acclaim and a few celeb fans along the way. Bono is one, but don’t let that put you off too much. It all sounds too American for words, which is a bit confusing but no less fun for that. It’d be a churlish listener who wouldn’t give their chirpy brand of danceable funk a chance.

Jinn - Jinn
By Simon T Diplock
Jinn are going to have some problems here. Not only because there are three other bands with the same name around the world but also because the front cover of this, the Newcastle group’s first full-length, gives no clues to what lies within. A shame really because the few who do delve deeper will find blood-spattered metal, squealing monstrous noise and 20 deadly minutes of the sort of brilliant dark thrash that the British isles have proved so bloody good at producing before. It might take a bit of work to find then but for fans of Converge, Beecher and other such unholy rackets the effort will be entirely worth it.

Kathy Zimmer – Spare Key
By Matt Hell
Nebraskan country-girl is anything but small-town sounding. Sure it’s folk and yes, it’s quite dated but there’s a sophistication about the composition and instrumentation of ‘Spare Key’. But most striking is the quality of Kathy’s voice. Not surprising given her status as an academic musician, with a masters degree in music from the Cleveland Institute of Music, Kathy is almost over-qualified as a pop singer. Whilst it’s true that there are some lovely Bacharachian songs, Kathy suffers, if that’s the right word, from having refined her voice to a classical perfection. Think Joan Baez, if you can stand Joan’s voice then you’ll love this.

The Nightjars - Towards Light
By Joanna Booth
There was a lot of hype about The Nightjars when they first emerged in Manchester two years ago. By many accounts they’re a great live band. Unfortunately for them, this doesn’t seem to translate to disc well. This album sounds tired and dated. The chanting vocals are angry, but not angry enough. The churning guitars and pounding drums are fine but formulaic. ‘Towards Light’ is workmanlike; it’s acceptable; it’s just not rock and roll. The Nightjars cite Sonic Youth as inspiration, but Towards Light is what Sonic Youth never were; derivative and just a little dull.

Ironweed Project - Dustbowl
By Simon T Diplock
Has there ever been a more unappealing mix than electronic hip-hop blues? Maybe only if you add the low, drowsy vocals, drawn out drums, faux-funky horns, and lazy effects of The Ironweed Project into the mix. It’s not that ‘Dustbowl’, the debut record from producer Aniff Akinola’s new creation, is truly awful- ‘Perfect Day’ gets a good, smoked-out groove on and opener ‘Down To My Grave’ just occasionally kicks hard enough to find a decent beat. It’s just that sounds here are either tired, old or sound so much like a bad joke that people will only listen ironically, laughing about it before digging out their ‘Scooby Snacks’ single once again. Which, actually, is all the treatment that someone calling themselves a ‘hip hop alchemist’ deserves.

Alan Cohen – The Alan Cohen Experience
By Matt Hell
The press release claims The Alan Cohen Experience "creates intelligent music that is fun to listen to", which is just a lie. The Experience isn’t much fun at all, instead it’s some kind of wacky musical lecture on the subject of radicalism and historical radicals. Like a 70s idea of how to make the kids really engage with subjects. And what is that you’re supposed to be learning – again the press release claims Alan has a “unique perspective” on whatever he’s blah-ing on about. Lyrically, well, it’s often just history-book-to-music. Musically, it’s awkwardly wrapped around uncomfortably squashed lyrics. And it doesn’t let up much, although ‘Smog: The Industrial Revolution’ (!) is pleasant enough, sounding, in its way, like Jim O’Rourke. For ‘The Digital Revolution’, Alan uses machines, very clever. Self-indulgent and pretentious to the point where you wonder who encouraged him to release this waffle.