After years of playing the role of genius for hire to countless bands, including The Cribs, Modest Mouse and of course, The Smiths, Johnny Marr has finally released an album under the solo banner.
Luckily, the latest in a long line to be crowned Godlike Genius by the NME has kept all of his bet ideas for himself. The Messenger encapsulates everything great about his body of work. The record feels like a tidy summation, a musical CV showcasing what he does best.
And of course, what Marr does best is play guitar. The man who has often been credited with birthing the modern indie sound has excelled on this album.
From the Squire esque cascading riff of title track “The Messenger” to the northern soul rythm of fantastic opening track “The Right Thing Right” each song is fresh, inventive and surprising. Never predictable.
It becomes entirely more impressive when one considers a man who has been in music since the 80s is still churning out more innovative sounds than some of the up and coming bands on the scene.
While the fretwork is impressive, there was a worry the album may fall down lyrically and vocally. Luckily, this is not the case. Marr has as much of an ear for a vocal hook as he does a guitar one, as showcased in songs such as “Generate! Generate!” A rousing Marr era Cribs style tune.
Lyrically Marr has just as much to say as his previous songwriting partners. The album as a whole conveys a theme of apathy and disconnection with life. In a time when social networks and X Factor seems to dominate the public, The Messenger really connects.
If you happen to be a fan of Marr and his previous body of work, you will love this album. If you’re looking for a fresh sound wrapped up in a catchy collection of tunes, you will love this album.
If you’re looking for a Cilla Black cover, this album will not be for you. In fact, music in general probably isn’t for you. Sorry.
It’s took long enough by far, but Johnny Marr’s first solo effort is a standout album, and a great start to 2013.
November 23rd 2013 marks fifty years of possibly the world’s most popular and enduring Science Fiction program: Doctor Who.
Only one other television program has celebrated fifty years of glory: Coronation Street. Let’s face facts, it’s going to be far more exciting to watch the fireworks Who showrunner Steven Moffat has planned for the 50th birthday of an alien who can travel anywhere in space and time, than it was to watch the 50th of a show about cobbled streets and misery.
This aside, fans are positively chomping at the bit to find out just what is in store for the show as it hits the big 5-0.
We already know about the Mark Gatiss penned drama depicting the series’ inception, and the BBC’s plans for an actual, feature length special episode to be aired on the 23rd, as well as shown in UK cinemas in 3D.
What we don’t know, is what is actually going to happen in the special. Plot details elude us completely. Will we see The Master? The Daleks? The Vervoids? Probably not the Vervoids, but here’s what we kind of know already (sort of).
There have been strong rumours that somehow, all eleven incarnations of The Doctor are to be included.
This is possible in that this is usually the norm for the Doctor’s anniversary bashes, with the Three Doctors and The Five Doctors marking his 10th and 20ths respectively.
This is also slightly less possible, in that the first three actors to have played The Doctor are dead. Of course, Richard Hurdnall fooled everyone into thinking he was First Doctor William Hartnell with a cunning disguise (similar hair) for the 20th. Maybe with some CGI and studio trickery, it will be possible to bring these Doctors back to life in some capacity.
For now, there have been absolutely no concrete details. Moffat has kept tight lipped on the whole thing, as has Matt Smith. At this time, we can only speculate on which companions, monsters and even Doctors might pop up.
Filming for the 50th special begins in Spring and series 7 part 2 airs in the UK at the end of March.
Pop Punk superstars Fall Out Boy recently announced their reunion(although they insist they never actually broke up, their hiatus from 2009 onwards would suggest otherwise) with a new tour and album titled: “Save Rock and Roll”.
Queue 19 and 20 year old girls across the country dying their hair exciting colours and reactivating long dead Myspace accounts in a desperate fit of nostalgia fueled craze.
I was especially excited to hear a return to form after the disappointing last album. “Well the new album is called Save Rock and Roll” I thought. “It’s got to be a return to the straight up pop punk of old, right?” Wrong.
For an album called Save Rock and Roll, the lead single can only be some cruel joke on the part of Fall Out Boy. My Songs Know.. is a painfully empty sounding and generic piece of pop chart bollocks. A cautionary tale, a clear attempt to reinvent themselves as something more than a pop punk and becoming so much less.
Sadly, while most bands clearly change their sound to suit themselves, FOB are obviously clinging to relevance with an empty effort that lacks any heart.
You have to admire the irony. Fall Out Boy began as outsiders who hit the big time without even trying. Now they’re all dressed up as the cool kids with a chart friendly sound, and it seems that nobody wants to know.