I’ve been putting together a playlist for my niece and nephew this week… and finding out that bringing music to pre-teens is quite the sonic leveller. Unless they’re already rowdy enough to enjoy an ear-bashing and a jump-around (punk, or some heavy duty hip hop beats) or are already hooked on weird noises (dub, radiophonics) or have the patience for bouts of classical music, you’ve got to reign in your missionary instinct and just go for the sweet golden pop globs.
Hopefully, you’ll get the chance to slip in something more interesting (so far I’ve earmarked the sheer weirdness of Good Vibrations; a dose of Minnie Riperton’s early orchestral soul; carefully placed doses of Can and Everything Everything; Sweet Billy Pilgrim’s glorious but lyrically unsettling Joyful Reunion), but if you’re a listener with a sense of mission, it can be a little frustrating sanding off all of the tolerances and extra perspective you’ve developed over the years. Going back to the slick hook; to sidelining the appealing awkward vocal in favour of prettier bel canto pop voices; to putting back what was kicked over and setting aside what jars in favour of what flows. Then again, if you’re spending a fair amount of time chasing the weird, it can be refreshing going back to the world of beautiful craftmanship, of appreciating the sheen and shareability of a genuinely great pop tune.
What with these kind-uncle mixtape adventures softening my ears, and having taken time out to read Greg Prato’s book on the “yacht rock” phenomenon (which I still can’t take seriously as a name for that smooth studio-massaged grown-up’s pop, that Hall & Oates/Eagles/Al Jarreau/Michael McDonald sound which we were encouraged to treat like shit-in-a-blazer twenty years ago as we dug into our post-punk college rock noises and our narcoleptic dream pop), I’m particularly receptive to Scruff Of The Neck’s four-emerging-bands concert this coming Thursday, providing big, bright pop sounds for illusory big, bright times.
Headliners Island Club are prime mood movers for this. Perhaps it’s the chatty glow of that Prato book, but while the Brightonians cite “Tame Impala’s dense psychedelic wigouts… the razor-sharp groove of Earth, Wind & Fire… the shimmering pop nous of The 1975” as their influences, I’m hearing prime late ‘70s/early ‘80s adult-oriented rock, swirled through spacious digital sousings – that surf-spray of luxuriant noise – from contemporary pop. Sometimes you’ll pick up the traces of Trevor Horn stadium-record sonic tricks: pop-funk guitar, faux-Fairlight punches of atmosphere chording. Sometimes it all rides along on a warm California session groove, Mikey Askew’s nimble white-funk-brat voice keeping up with each slip’n’move. The songs themselves travel well-packed, clean and joyful, bringing hints of story along with them, touching lightly on darker feelings but blowing them up with dashes of celestial harmony or summer-storm instrumentation. All right, it does sound like aspirational yacht-rockin’ hijacking latter-day production techniques, but the results justify everything: a fine marriage of instinct and popcraft.
Electro-pop star-in-waiting DØM is Dom Scialo, previously known as Tibican. A shed-tinkering pop obsessive with a yen for Lindsey Buckingham, Prince, Haim and The 1975 (them again), he bobs and bops along a faultline of sleekness and jaggedness, blending a Christmassy chillwave jangle with the brush and snag of his vocal nasality and his gauge-busting synth tones. Imagine Billy Corgan hijacking Pet Shop Boys at their brashest and you’re part of the way there. Having emerged earlier this year, he’s already put out three singles on Spotify (which I’ve managed to eavesdrop on elsewhere), revealing an artist with a knack both for salting his sweetness and for coming up with complicated love songs full of digressions and disclaimers.
Calling Bokito “feel-good indie pop freneticism” is selling them short. That’s boilerplate pop flyer blether for trainer bands, the kind of always-third-on-the-bill plodders whose entire motivation is just to be energetically mediocre for a year or four. Bokito have bigger ambitions and keener, greedier ears. The London/Irish band might sit in a pop bracket, but they’re cramming it with helpings of Afrobeat, softshoe funk and Moses Moorhouse’s oddball soulboy-squawk of a voice. The latter’s simultaneously a quirk, a weakness and a selling point. It’s brilliantly awkward and straightforwardly strange: a bit of endearing fangawk, like Merz attempting to be Prince for a set’s worth of songs.
Opening the show are Tonochrome, a band for whom I’m developing an increasing admiration. Still young although not exactly new (they’ve been six intermittent years in development), this year’s debut album ‘A Map In Fragments’ has seen them blossom into a proper proposition. A tech-savvy, chameleonic pop-rock band with their own shifting dynamic perspectives (based predominantly around the songwriting of Bolivian art-rock émigré Andres Razzini and the deftly probing and morphing guitar palette of Charlie Cawood), they step lightly in and out of blazing latter-day rock, jazz poptronica and prog, the metres shifting, the camera angles swapping. En route you might see flashes of Muse, the younger Talk Talk, the current Dutch Uncles: you’ll see them for a minute and then they’re gone.
Some of the same scale and pizazz, albeit through a much heavier rock filter, is going to show up at Chaos Theory’s Thumpermonkey the following week….
The work of a certain strand of metal band – the ones which cross-fertilise math-rock with tech-metal, latter-day prog and ecstatic noise – tend to grow and accumulate, like crystallography farms. Each successive work is a bigger, more refracted and complex build upon the last. Memory Of Elephants have a brand new album due, while Masiro are touring last month’s ‘Geodesics’, so we’ll be able to test the truth of that. The former are Bristolians: longstanding Chaos Theory favourites, whom I’ve previously described as “a restless, conspiratorial mask-dance of a band” (and as playing “a welter of restless multipolar mood changes and psych-cyclones with a bewildering delightful stockpile of guitar tones; from mechanistic hissing growls, fire-ribbon swishes and sudden injections of Detroit proto-punk to great woozy carousing fuzzwalls of MBV dreampop, Chinese orchestras and – at one point – what sounds like a gnarly old organ playing itself.”). The latter have been variously compared to Pelican, Isis and Battles, and tagged by me as “a melange of prog, metal and funk grooves… if that makes them sound like early ’90s macho blokes in shorts, imagine a trio who went the other way, reframing and reappraising those elements from a confusing refracted perspective. As a listener, they make you work to get back to the sources, but it’s a compelling game of reconstruction.”
But it’s absolutely going to be the headliners’ gig. Launching their first album for six years (their last being the flagrantly mysterious ‘Sleep Furiously‘), Thumpermonkey have come a long way from the knowing weird-fiction parodists and gonzo shapes of their early years. Their recent work nudges persistently against the edge of the rock envelope: not so much in terms of noise (they’re old-school rock instrumentalists, palming and playing powerful electrical-architectural riffs rather than blurring the universe), but more in terms of ambition. A latterday Thumpermonkey song’s more like a contemporary classical song: protracted, a lyric-driven musical wandering from thought to thought, but always with that solid rock foundation, that return to purpose.
The new album, ‘Make Me Young etc’, is an existential peering into the world of dreams and fears, Michael Woodman singing it as if he’s delivering a thoughtful final human testament from the mouth of a cave in the hills. Thumpermonkey are in a school of their own, and they built it up themselves. I suspect that they’re always going to be a niche band, but there are few better-crafted, more intelligent niches to be found in rock.
Dates:
Scruff of the Neck presents:
Island Club + Bokito + DØM + Tonochrome
Camden Assembly, 49 Chalk Farm Road, Camden Town, London, NW1 8AN, England
Thursday 4th October 2018, 7.00pm – information here, here and here
Chaos Theory Promotions presents:
Thumpermonkey + Memory Of Elephants + Masiro
The Victoria, 451 Queensbridge Road, Hackney, London, E8 3AS, England
Thursday 11th October 2018, 7.30pm – information here and here
Misfit City 
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