list.co.uk/music LATIN BLUES HURRAY FOR THE RIFF RAFF The Navigator (ATO Records) ●●●●●
INDIE ROCK THE PIGEON DETECTIVES Broken Glances (Dance to the Radio) ●●●●● Records | MUSIC
Like so many in our global community, Alynda Segarra, aka Hurray for the Riff Raff, is a glorious mix of cultural influences and background, some of which she’s only acknowledging now in her acclaimed rootsy rock’n’roll songs. Of Puerto Rican descent, Segarra was brought up in the Bronx, had her musical epiphany via New York’s downtown punk scene, then heeded the call of the south and has made New Orleans her home for many years. The Navigator is her musical homecoming, a semi-autobiographical odyssey
in which she sings a version of her own experience through the story of the title character, Navita, who gradually comes to an appreciation of her heritage and the pro-active need to preserve it. Segarra sings the inner-city blues in ambivalent style on ‘Living in the City’ which, thanks to her freewheeling NY rock’n’roll delivery, is a celebration as much as a condemnation of urban life. Next, she mixes in brooding new wave electronica elements to the yearning
‘Hungry Ghost’ (‘and I travel from coast to coast’). Meanwhile Hispanic percussion and Tropicália influences resonate throughout like an additional background narrative, woven through the slow sway of ‘Nothing’s Gonna Change that Girl’ before soulfully seeping into the title track. ‘Rican Beach’ is a fictional battleground in the South Bronx but intended
as a rallying cry for the preservation of indigenous culture against capitalistic interests. Here, Segarra gets to the heart of the album’s matter, recalling the
We’ve all done it. Chosen a worthy, if unattainable New Year’s Resolution that will definitely transform our lives for the better and instead turns January into a month-long guilt trip. The key to success (according to official NHS advice, no less) is breaking goals down into small, manageable chunks – to measure your marathon training in the half-miles rather than by the dozen.
Judging from their fifth studio album, Broken Glances, it seems that the Pigeon Detectives – those cheerful, cherubic cheerleaders for uncomplicated indie rock, still going after all this time – have taken that advice on board. So, rather than taking up jogging like the rest us, the lads from Leeds have decided to cast aside their tendency to write ‘songs that smash you in the face’ and create an album that contains a little more subtlety. They’ve benefitted heavily from the guidance of producer Richard Formby, previously associated with acts like Wild Beasts and Ghostpoet, and although lead singer Matt Bowman doesn’t have anything close to the vocal dexterity of the former’s Hayden Thorpe, the Detectives’ tilt at reflective songwriting has brought them to interesting new places.
It’s an eclectic LP; familiar-sounding tunes like ‘Enemy Lines’ stand alongside tracks like ‘Monroe’, which ends on an indulgent two-minute long keyboard instrumental, and lead single ‘Lose Control’, which sounds as if it was created by a totally different band. The emphatic, anthemic choruses are gone, traded out in favour of moody, brooding themes on ‘Postcards’ and the sparse arrangements
Cree singer/songwriter and Native American rights activist Buffy Sainte-Marie in her soulful stridency, and occupying similar territory to Ry Cooder on his Chavez Ravine album, about the clearance of East LA’s Hispanic community to make way for Dodger Stadium. Those artists lamented historical cultural cleansing; on the angry epic piano ballad ‘Pa’lante’, Segarra rails against the aggressive gentrification of the present, and the future. (Fiona Shepherd) ■ Out Fri 10 Mar.
of sombre ‘Falling in Love’ – it’s as if, finally, they’ve realise that emotions don’t always have to be the size of the stadium they’re being performed in. The Pigeon Detectives aren’t
quite there yet, as evidenced by promising numbers like ‘Sounding the Alarm’ which displays an instinct for pop hooks which placed them in the noughties’ indie pantheon in the first place, before falling back on a regulation chorus line. Still, it’s progress. (Sam Bradley) ■ Out Fri 24 Feb.
FOLK ALASDAIR ROBERTS Pangs (Drag City) ●●●●● INDIE GRUNGE MINUS THE BEAR Voids (Suicide Squeeze Records) ●●●●●
‘Tell me the marvels you saw on your rambles,’ sings Alasdair Roberts towards the end of Pangs, the latest chapter in his reimagining of old weird Caledonia. ‘I saw a calabash in Amarillo,’ comes the reply, followed by a litany of wonders from across the globe. It’s testament to the scope of Roberts’ syncretic vision that he can cast his net so widely, while remaining rooted in the folklore of these islands. Pangs is the Glasgow-based singer-songwriter’s eighth album, not including collaborative projects such as Urstan with Gaelic singer Mairi Morrison and last year’s Plaint of Lapwing with multi-instrumentalist James Green. His last album for Drag City, 2015’s Alasdair Roberts, was an austere, but deeply rewarding solo collection. Pangs sees the return of regular collaborators Stevie Jones, Alex Neilson, Rafe Fitzpatrick and Tom Crossley, plus Debbie Armour on backing vocals and Jessica Kerr on cello. But unlike 2013’s A Wonder Working Song – a sprawling occult ceilidh of an album, full of guest appearances – Pangs derives its energy from the core trio of Roberts, Jones and Neilson. While both musicians have played separately on previous Roberts albums, and together in avant-folk supergroup Sound of Yell, they come into their own as a rhythm section here. For all the brilliance of Roberts’ finger-picked guitar, none of his prior albums have had such rhythmic vitality. ‘The Angry Laughing God’ skips along at a fair old pace, rising to a gallop in its final section, while ‘The Downward Road’ explodes in a riot of whoops, whistles and whip-cracks.
When you think of Seattle, your mind most likely conjures up images of Kurt Cobain, Chris Cornell and other archetypes of 90s grunge. But the city has also been a haven of sorts for indie bands in the new millennium, thanks in part to a shifting focus from the angst and heavy distortion of grunge to the dreamy and comparatively halcyon sounds of American indie. Minus the Bear may be a product of that shift, but in a 15-year history, their music has remained somewhat independent of the conventional output with which Seattle has become associated.
The opening tracks of Voids illustrate this perfectly, going from the unanticipated pop-heavy chorus of ‘Last Kiss’ to the off-kilter rhythms of ‘Give & Take’, a more signature Minus the Bear move. Guitar lines are particularly strong throughout the album, as evidenced in the more serene ‘Call the Cops’, where guitar intricacies draw out the vocal melody’s simplicity. There’s a similar effect in ‘Invisible’, but the competition between guitar and voice is more distinctive, leading to an explosive chorus where Jake Snider’s vocals ultimately triumph.
Minus the Bear are known for their use of electronics, fluidity of rhythm and ability to build atmosphere, aspects that have always set them apart from their indie-rock peers. Final track ‘Lighthouse’ is a reminder of this, with its cacophonous instrumental crescendo providing a playful finale to their many
Roberts and his collaborators augment the basic tracks with electric guitar, synth, organ, fiddle, cello and flute, but the results are never overcooked. The arrangements are playful and Crossley's flute and Armour's backing vocals are beautifully judged, bringing lightness and colour, without being overly pretty. From the swirling medieval folk-rock of ‘Pangs’ to the stately balladry of ‘The Breach’, this is one of Roberts' most accomplished albums to date. (Stewart Smith) ■ Out Fri 24 Feb.
tonal experiments.
With each release, the band have succeeded in renewing their sound in a way that illustrates a penchant for experimentation and genre defiance. Album number six, Voids, does not quite serve as the tabula rasa which is perhaps intended, but in retaining the elements that are characteristic of their musical landscape, it reinforces the band’s many strengths, drawing attention to a collective drive for progress. (Arusa Qureshi) ■ Out Fri 3 Mar.
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