Where The Love Family explored dissonance between the past and present in last year’s Tracks, The Science Department (Gary Robertson’s other band) have run and run…and run with the theme for their debut.
A couple of weeks back, after seeing the deluge of reviews I wrote for various Medway bands in the space of a single week, Allan Crockford from The Galileo 7 asked me if I’d cast my ears over the band’s latest outing, Tear Your Minds Wide Open.
It would, quite frankly have been rude – not to mention incredibly foolish – to refuse. And so, here it is – somewhat delayed (sorry Allan!). Have a read of the following and then tear your wallet wide open to procure your copy.
In October 2017 The Love Family released their album, Tracks. Rather foolishly I didn’t review it at the time.
It’s May Bank Holiday Weekend. And for Rochester that means Sweeps Festival.
A couple of months back, Medway’s legendary sound engineer Jim Riley got up from his mixing desk and stood at the microphone to record a few songs with The Claim.
Yeah. I thought that picture might get your attention.
If you are not suitably freaked out by it, maybe you need to listen to the accompanying music from UpCDownC. I describe it in appropriately graphic detail on this link.
Another Medway album review? So soon?
A stark contrast with yesterday’s bleak descent into misery, despair and general despondency comes something a little lighter but no less magnificent.
The Senior Service are back with another album – their second. It’s rather good. You should give it a listen. I did…
To be honest, it came out quite a while back. Just before Christmas if memory serves.
But (the big light) still deserves some attention. It’s the sole album from a now defunct band called Lost Film Foundation, released post-split.
Matt Kilda (once known as Lupen Crook) fronted the band with Jemimah Dean sharing vocal duties. The sound switches from the simplest of melodies to glorious, discordant racket while the lyrics paint portraits of inner turmoils at their most chaotic.
Somewhere amidst all that hubbub about the misuse of data to aid and abet elections, my Facebook stream has been alive and kicking with friends sharing images of favourite albums.
Never one to shy away from joining in with a music themed craze, I set out my own list. And in the next few posts you’ll see me justifying my actions.
For now though, here’s an introductory thing abut the whole sorry process.
And now for something slightly different.
While these pages usually confine themselves to the products of a singer, guitar, bass and drums (or permutations thereof), this latest piece is a break from that particular routine.
I’ve been listening to Rachmaninov a lot lately – at times to the point of excluding anything else. It’s proved something of a departure, but a welcome one.
As you’ll see from what I knocked together in my article, Rachmaninov has had a lasting influence on a great deal of pop music – from Frank Sinatra through to Moloko.
I first fell in love with his music when watching the Geoffery Rush film Shine. Being a pianist myself (although far from anywhere near good enough to play anything apart from a couple of the opening chords of the second piano concerto), I’ve been in awe of this composer’s music ever since.
But whether you are a pianist or not – whether you recognise the technical prowess required to interpret his music or not – there is something about this composer’s work that reaches out and touches the soul.
If an alien ever lands in your back garden and asks you “what is music and why do people listen to it?”, just play them something by Rachmaninov and watch as he, she or it bursts into tears before thanking you for enlightening them so much that they decide not to destroy you and all of civilisation.