The Joup Friday Album: JEFF The Brotherhood ‘Heavy Days’

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A 65 year old guy named Gene called it;

…for performers who are also songwriters — the creators — for rock music, for soul, for the blues — it’s finally dead. Rock is finally dead.

He should know, he Rocks N’ Rolls all night and parties ever-ry day.

Diagnosis? Murder.

The Joup Friday Album: Mercury Rev ‘See You On The Other Side’

Othersidemercuryrev ‘Empire State (Son House in Excelsis)’ transports me to a gold and frozen 70s New York Morning. Like the intro to some film that doesn’t exist, the staccato piano stabs and underlying atmospherics serve as a sun-dappled Hudson, before the drums, bulbous bass and fluttering flutes summon-up some 16mm Manhattan panorama, speeding up, slowing down, growing in stature as though to pencil-in the enormity of it all. Horns come blasting-in after the 4:15 mark in a staggering pantomime of car horns, dizzying buildings, swelling and spinning until everything accelerates into chaos like the throng of vehicular and human traffic on the streets below. ‘Young Man’s Stride’ bids a final farewell to the galloping jams that made up much of 93’s exhilarating ‘Boces’, while also reminding you of just how much of a dry run that album was for this one, but while ‘Boces’ sounds like an extraordinary rock record, ‘See You On The Other Side’ evolves into something transcendent – it’s texture more deftly crafted but with organic and otherworldly results; muted and drunken trumpets, lilting wind instruments, wailing soul singers, an idealised, pharmaceutically-enhanced vision of the world’s capital city.

The Joup Friday Album: ‘Niandra LaDes (& Usually Just a T-Shirt)’ John Frusciante

lrg-253-jfmakeupA mind is a terrible thing to waste, but damn if it isn’t fun to do so. Self destruction can be an expressway to artistic Nirvana, the catch is that you have to ultimately shed your physical self to get there, as someone who traded under that heavenly appellation would famously find out. ‘The dead do not improve’, just segue into a misunderstood and misappropriated Valhalla defined by the hands of a cumulative bastard- hack comprised of millions with their inaccurate imaginings. In 1991, on the last page of a British Metal magazine only just starting to reinvent itself as Cobain & Co’s hurricane gathered on the horizon, was an interview with John Frusciante that was epiphanic to my adolescent mind. It was my first glimpse at his idiosyncratic way of thinking – more outlandish and Dionysian than his bandmates could ever conceive of being. The interviewer completely failed to deal with his intellect (or at least, decided it would be funnier to feign ignorance and kowtow to the meat-headed readership), and Frusciante blew my impressionable young head off shoulders that had just recently known my ‘rebellious’ hair’s first contact.

Joup Movie Review: ‘Boyhood’ Richard Linklater, 2014

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I feel a Hipsterish cringe as Coldplay’s ‘Yellow’ sounds out over the opening shot of a cloud strewn blue sky, before I remember that I secretly think this is a beautiful song. For a long time, I didn’t even hate Coldplay, I was above all that, they were just an Indie ‘In’ for those younger than me. Of course in recent years I’ve found their self important, remedial plinkety-plonking bombast grossly offensive, but that’s just an irrelevant by-product of experience and the slow creeping cynicism that heralds the beginning of the inevitable rendezvous with decrepitude. As Coldplay serenade the theater, you’ll have to forego a certain amount of cynicism. We’re looking down on 5 year old Mason, unfettered by such trivialities, lying on his back on serene grass musing on the incongruous blue above as it becomes clear that this musical cue is a signifier for this place in time, 2002.

The Joup Friday Album – CHROME ‘Half Machine Lip Moves’

110276-aThe drum kit is sentient and coated in tin foil, its human overseers gaunt and warped from light years of ST37 abuse. These two jumpsuited mutants go by the earth-names Damon Edge and Helios Creed and their clingfilm (Saran wrap) skin is pallid from sunlight estrangement. While Punk was pissing and whinging about the inequity of modern life, Chrome were taking the same musical aesthetics and shaping it into a future we were expecting after the promise of late 60s space exploration and the ensuing Universe of cautionary and allegorical Sci Fi, courtesy of some of the period’s drugs of choice.

The Joup Friday Album: The Residents ‘The Commercial Album’

The effect of music on the mind is allegedly secondary only to scent in its ability to transport one to the past. Since my teens I’ve had this project on the back-burner too sacred to discuss, where I seek out albums that transport me to another world. I’m not talking about your marijuana or ‘Wizard of Oz’ enhanced trip to the ‘Dark Side of the Moon’, rather that abstract artefact that clearly existed at some point in history, but for which you have no frame of reference; either in the form of anything that sounds comparable in your collection or contextualisation from anyone you’ve ever met.

The Joup Friday Album: SHELLAC ‘1,000 Hurts’

There are so many things to consider when the occasion calls for you to pluck an album out of your (re)collection, or hard drive and hold it up as representative of yourself and assure others it’ll be worthy of up to three quarters of an hour of their time. The scope for selection is so wide, I have to blinker this decision with some relevance either to previous posts, the fact that it’s a Friday, or maybe it just has to have an opening track that has you ensnared from the get go. This album has as memorable an opener as any.

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