(Here isn’t the video.)
Download: December 13th
www.catm.co.uk
BBC Music page
(Fraser McAlpine)
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It’s not often you get to say of a record that it grabs you from the bendy metallic whalesong noises at the beginning. But that’s essentially what happened here. Those strange mournful little eeps act like a magical welcome mat to the rest of the song, a little bit sad and a little bit huh?
That’s my kinda thing, right there.
And when the song arrives…well let’s start by saying that everyone who has had enough of Madame Welch’s banshee wail will not find anything here to change their mind. Florence’s bullroar is given free rein to call down the heavens once again, and being chronically unable to hold herself back, call down the heavens is what she does.
The question of whether this is thrilling or irritating is really one that I can’t answer for you, except to say that she’s clearly going to keep doing it, so you might as well get used to it.
(Here’s the video. Is it me or are pop stars getting lazier?)
And you have to admit, there’s something rather stirring about this rolling behemoth. It speaks to the part of the brain which governs heroic actions, purity of heart, nobility of thought and firmness of spine – the bravial cortex. At the same time, it’s an admission of defeat, a guilty song about being a drag on someone else’s life, but being powerless to pull yourself together against the forces of doom.
In the context of the soundtrack to Twilight: Eclipse, that last bit becomes very important. There’s a lot of stuff about pained responsibility and eternal loyalty and doomed fate in those films, and these are all emotions which Florence can conjure up rather well, because when they hit, they hit like a mighty mallet from Thor’s own toolshed. There’s no room for self-depreciation, the cheeky grin or putting on a brave face. Things are very serious, even when they’re preposterous.
Luckily, she’s also got a marching orchestra and choir at her disposal, to dispense crushing swipes of doom and gloom as they traverse the scorched earth, en route to the hidden caverns of Doofus, on a quest to locate the magical septic grail of Darren, before the last ring-sparrow sings her final song at the next full moon, in order to prevent her from dying, of, of, lurgey.
Probably best appreciated alone, on headphones, watching the rain pelt your bedroom window, while wondering what cruel trick fate has in store for you next, is what I am saying.
Download: 14th November
www.florenceandthemachine.net
BBC Music page
(Fraser McAlpine)
Bloginity says: “The official video for “Heavy In Your Arms” is every bit as haunting as the track itself.”
Pink Is The New Blog says: “There are some artists that just ooze talent and Florence Welch is deffo one of those artists.”
The Gizzle Review says: “If this is the direction of the next album, I for one cannot wait. I just miss the harp…”
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I love a good metaphor, don’t you? When people describe a thing they find hard to define, using the characteristics of another thing that everyone understands? It’s an oven in here! She looked daggers at me! I can’t quite grasp what you’re on about!
The classic metaphor is far more subtle than a simile – which is a type of metaphor – in that a simile is a picture that carries its own frame.
Sorry, that should say a simile is LIKE a picture that carries its own frame. That LIKE is very important, because it allows you, the person who is talking, to explain that just because you have stopped talking about how greedy your brother is, and starting talking about truffle-pigs, it doesn’t mean you think that he has grown an actual snout.
But metaphors, because they don’t have that signpost, are a little bit harder to spot, they’re the Where’s Wally of words.
And yes, that was another one.
(Here’s the video. It uses an empty swimming pool as a metaphor for the blackness of the human soul in a concrete wilderness because it looks cool.)
Coco has a good metaphor going on here about being a robot. Where Marina took great pains to point out that she isn’t one, because she can feel and think and things, Coco claims that she IS, because she can think about isolation and feel lonely, and things. This might seem a little confusing, but don’t worry too much. Pop isn’t supposed to make sense.
(Also, did you know her dad – Sting – once had an album out called ‘Ghost In The Machine’, when he was with the Police? A title based on Arthur Koestler’s novel of the same name. This humans and robots thing must be genetic.)
Anyway, when Coco says she’s got hinges, or sings about having a motor for a heart, or being inhuman if you say so, she’s trying to nail those 3am thoughts where there seems to be a massive black wall between you and everyone you love. She does it pretty well too.
I know I’ve banged on about her voice before, but it really is a lovely instrument. That sandpaper-and-honey delivery, delivering these cold (and let’s face it, slightly silly) words of self-doubt…well it’s something rather brilliant.
Especially when set to those spiralling pianos in the chorus, and that chirruping electropop (there’s a rather good La Roux remix doing the rounds too).
What else would suit her metallic metaphor?
Download: Out now
www.iblamecoco.co.uk
BBC Music page
(Fraser McAlpine)
PS: Lisa Scott Lee once did a song in which she tried to use electricity as a metaphor for the act of love. There was lots of stuff about sockets and plugging things in, which is kind of mechanical but still technically works. Then there was the brilliant bit where she had to sing “it’s all over, warranty expired” WITH A STRAIGHT FACE. And it is for this reason, and this reason alone, that Lisa Scott Lee deserves some kind of knighthood.
Crack In The Road says: “Promises that Coco Sumner’s career can take on an infinitely more interesting path than that of her more famous father.”
The CS Perspective says: “Self Machine’ is an electronic/alternative mix with a killer melody, ding ding, an instant winner.”
Hard Candy says: “There is something so intriguing about her and I can’t wait to hear more stuff!”
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