A God-awful Small Affair

Looking over the list of the potential recipients of the same award that launched Sam Smith into the unstoppable chart force that he is (although terrible album sales all around mean that basically anyone with a strong marketing campaign can remain in the top 40 for a month or three), I sort of feel sorry for them. Years and Years (probably the most likely, considering the award's not gone to a group before) ( news just in informs me I was wrong ) , James Bay ( this is why ) and George the Poet are all of the hallmarks of what you'd usually hear about a Critics Choice winner: safe, carved for the mainstream and about as soulful as a cup of tea (with milk, obviously). A telling interview near the start of the year in the build up to his album's launch told us that Sam Smith had never actually been in love: "On Latch I was singing about love... but I've never physically experienced it. And I'm kind of sick of listening to albums about the turmoils of re

OK can we all look away and pretend I'm not jumping straight in on an artist's seventh album because it was on Pitchfork's best new music feature? Please? That would be lovely. Some albums are difficult to put into words. Clark is one of those albums. So, let me summarise by saying that I massively enjoy: the way 'Banjo' sounds like Alice Practice's happier little sister. how 'Petroleum Tinged' is basically the entirety of the movie Drive ground into one quick nutshell. The entirety of 'The Grit in the Pearl'. Says Mr. Clark: " I hypnotised myse lf with it, couldn't stop listening to it. Part of me sort of wishes the whole album was just this improvised loop." the bouncy bounce bounce.. ... And so, in the first of four hundred reviews to actually dare to use bullet points, please let's all retire and listen to Clark in silence. Rating: 8/10 Highlights: The Grit in the Pearl; Winter Linn; Unfurla; Silv

The very moment that our eyes and ears stumbled across the video for Water Me - which I am assuming is your same introduction to FKA Twigs that I had - there was the immediate connection in our heads that this bug-eyed girl was going to be pretty big. The problem with such eye-watering, word-of-mouth debut videos from alt-pop artists is that, more often than not, they turn out to be pretty contrived gimmicks . With LP1 , the creatively titled debut from Tahliah Barnett, that's thankfully not the case. Whilst she's not without controversy in her personal life , the first full-length glimpse into her talents and direction expose no such flaws and bullshit. A favourable and kind comparison would be that same feeling I got listening to my first Grimes album ( Visions - I've still yet to trace further back in that particular history): right down to the bewitching little intro of 'Preface'. That shaky, angelic voice will go on to flesh out the album in more b

OK at this stage in the game, Kylie Minogue does not need to be releasing albums. She is lying to us and herself when she puts them out and says "all 11 tracks are definitely worth listening to". Because we all know there are only ever three or four at best. But - WHAT'S THIS - there's definitely five this time around so that's what I'll give her. Well done Kylie, see you again next year. Rating: 5/10 Highlights: I Was Gonna Cancel; Into the Blue; Feels So Good; Million Miles; Kiss Me Once Avoid: Beautiful; If Only; Fine Artwork Watch: What airbrushing? Up next: FKA Twigs  

It is now tradition for a fascinating, new British popstar to bedazzle us with 2 albums at most and then kindly fade into obscurity. Breaking that mould somewhat with her third release is the admittedly ten thousand times more charismatic Ms. Faith, although it'd be nice if we could just give her that final push and break this #2 chart spot streak she's on. Faith's voice has always been divisive: it was haunting and outstanding where her songwriting allowed it to be, but in a gentler backdrop she often comes across as shrill and, at times, unbearable. She did manage to pull off a chart-topper this year, but there she was surrounded by all sorts of strings and synths to dilute her. Here, she's given a little more prominence and a plethora of genres to excel in again, but anyone expecting another New York (I'm sure I went through this futility reviewing Fall to Grace ) is going to leave mildly disappointed. 2014's most insistent cockroach makes a most

Now there's a title I didn't think I'd ever get to write. Following the career of Azealia Banks these past three years has been stressful, so it's impossible to imagine how Ms. Banks must be feeling right now. The feuds were often childish and needless, the musical-chairs game with her labels grew tiresome by the start of 2013, and the constant threats to leak her own album were never followed through. It was often quite easy to forget the talent that was bubbling away underneath all of the drama, and all of the pushbacks in the world - it turns out - haven't had much of a bearing on the impact of Broke With Expensive Taste . It sits quite comfortably at a strong 4/5 on most critics' reviews, whilst her contemporaries fling themselves carelessly at whatever's popular and likely to chart at expense of their capabilities.  Clearly, the feud with Disclosure did not put Banks off her love of the UK's surging house scene. Most of Broke With Expens

Prior to 2011, the idea of anyone creating anything worthwhile inspired by/named after Torquay, my hometown, seemed pretty laughable (I mean, sure, Agatha Christie's works and Fawlty Towers are both fantastic but it's been a while, guys). It may look pretty on a postcard but for the past ten years now it's been in rapid decline to the teenage pregnancy capital of the country (maybe Europe?), deserted high streets (the loss of HMV, Burger King and Blockbusters to discount stores and charity shops) and soaring drug use. So it took something quite special to make me feel wistful and nostalgic about it whilst at university, and The English Riviera was just that. It seems to have had a similar effect on many others, as the backlash against Love Letters - their fourth album now - seems to suggest. I suppose there's a large leap for listeners to follow merely on an aesthetic level; back in 2011 they were dicking around on Torquay pier and licking tarmac , and

As the noughties' most perpetually underrated queen of pop, Kelis' career has already been through as many genres and revivals as Rihanna's had albums. It's going to take an awful lot of resolve for this reviewer, however, to move on from her last one: 2010's Flesh Tone and its gloriously produced barrage of club hits such as Acapella , Home and 4th of July (Fireworks) was the perfect marriage between the music du jour (Guetta's prime year) and a unique, highly defined individual style. Why, the outfits from the Acapella video alone made more of a visual impact than the entire ARTPOP experience. So when, way back in April last year, there came quiet release of 'Jerk Ribs' - perhaps owing to the fact she was inbetween huge American and modest British labels - one couldn't help but feel a little bit concerned. Going back to a soul sound fifteen years into a career often has all the hallmarks of an artist giving up, after all. But

For those of us of a gayer disposition, the slow realisation of a new Wild Beasts record, whilst exciting, does initially make one yearn for a new Antony & the Johnsons record instead. Whilst Hegarty toys around with live recordings, greatest hits, and Hercules and Love Affair, his vocal kindred spirit Hayden Thorpe will have to do . If 2011's Smother was anything to go by, however, then I should probably ditch the sulking; not to mention the fact that it was being partly recorded just around the corner from my university, being such the fan of irrelevant, vaguely personal trivia that I am.   Where Smother settled down with its shoegazing, serene melodies, Present Tense takes care to open boldly and with a snarling, John Grantesque synth. Much seems to have been made of their subtle digs at other bands here but I can't quite find much to support that; instead it seems to tear apart obnoxious 'worldly' folk who're bragging to Thorpe, whilst the syn

Being from a shitty little part of the country where your only chance of spotting a live act is either a bunch of amateurs or the Wurzels (if they fall into a separate category), the opportunity to catch Katy B towards the end of my time at university was a godsend... until she cancelled. I haven't quite recovered. The release of Little Red , Brien's second full LP, has done well to drown those sorrows. On our first glimpses way back in 2013, (I'm aware I'm now half a year between albums being released and me reviewing them. Sorry.) the signs were promising; first single 5AM revived the fantastic party that Katy on a Mission and Witches Brew had thrown, whilst follow-up Crying for no Reason introduced a startlingly vulnerable new side to her sound that should - if there's any justice - cement Katy B as one of those go-to names for outstanding examples of British talent. I'm not holding out for an Adele-style takeover but you get my gist. Production-wi

The career of Lily Allen has been regarded by many as proof of the current state of the music industry being in dire circumstances. Critics of the newly(ish?)wed have never quite gotten over her having famous parents, and even her most ardent fans must admit she could fill several years' worth of gossip magazines with her feuds. Whilst that particular trait's killed off many careers before they could even begin - isn't that right, Miss Banks? - Allen's has survived and continues to blossom for one good reason: her brand of pop music is excellent. Previous albums Alright, Still and It's Not Me, It's You have been packed with so much humour, fine songwriting and heart-on-her-sleeve honesty that they've rightly both rocketed to #1 and remain strong arguments for her lineage in inheriting the UK's all-important Queen of Pop crown. On Sheezus , she - seriously or otherwise - seeks to reaffirm that: "Second best will never cut it for the divas/ Gi

I really must motivate myself to do these little things more frequently. Around 150 records from 2011 covered, and barely 5 of 2014 so far. Sorry to anyone that hasn't jumped ship, yet. Londoners Bombay Bicycle Club surprised a few of us earlier this year by managing to seize their first ever #1 album. Their fourth effort in almost as many years, So Long, See You Tomorrow sees the former channel 4 competition winners rightfully make them "big time" and after a much simpler, but equally charming indie approach in their early material (charming in the same sense that Noah and the Whale would be, were they not flung so vehemently into your ears by Nick Grimshaw's Radio 1), they now embrace all sorts of strange and wonderful samples and instruments into their sound. It wasn't until I heard Shuffle , from their last record, popping up on the soundtrack to the magnificent Sleeping Dogs game that I realised how totally unique it was; finding that one, stand-out h

I'll keep this brief because I'm just sulking over the absence of any Catch You or Get Over You pop majesty. This is the most tolerable bit of mediocrity one can expect from any popstar. I can't remember any of the songs but I think I recall them being 'quite nice'. Oh and don't think using Cyrillic fonts because your last album charted well in Russia has gone unnoticed, either, Sophie. Very canny. Rating: 5.5/10 Highlights: Young Blood; Birth of an Empire; Wrong Side of the Sun; Until the Stars Collide Avoid: The Deer and the Wolf; Interlude; 13 Little Dolls Artwork Watch: Is that a chalet? Up next: Bombay Bicycle Club

The last time I took a crack at reviewing someone whose debut LP was but the folky, quiet preamble to a stunning, electronica-infused sophomore it went and got my second ever 10/10 rating (and also contained a stand-out track called Glacier ), so it's looking at least a little tough for Mr. McMorrow to compare. His 2011 effort Early in the Morning was a real slow-burner with British fans, but he managed to make an impression on the singles chart with a charming cover of Steve Winwood's Higher Love (possibly because it was doing the rounds on The Voice at the time). Chunks of tracks have also been popping up on BBC trailers out of nowhere, so despite that #68 album chart slot he's not really been forgotten. Hopping up forty places three years later only proves that. It's an unnerving challenge though, going up against the likes of Passenger, Ed Sheeran, Bon Iver and James Arthur and all of those other chart-dominating gentlemen. What, exactly, raises him above th

I'm sure that, had I started this whole album-reviewing malarkey in 2010 instead of 2011, I'd have gotten around to listening to Warpaint's The Fool because there seemed to be quite a bit of fuss built up about them over here in the UK (oddly, a bigger fuss than that they generated in their home country). Of course, post-HAIM, the idea of an all-female L.A. rock band might carry more weight but these four are distinctly less poppy than the Haim sisters. It may have subconsciously helped though: this self-titled sophomore slotted rather sweetly into the top ten right here. It may have only been four years but the formative years of Warpaint led towards a very different debut than this; latecomer and drummer Stella Mozgawa had the task of picking up already-written songs for The Fool , but here she's cowriter. It shows.   Intros that segue seamlessly into track two may well be one of my secret passions but the one with which Warpaint kicks off is so restraine

For a few brief moments in 2012 the whole idea of an Azealia Banks/Angel Haze feud seemed exciting and worth watching. Then came the diss tracks, which seemed to just focus on each other's hairlines and who came first. Basically, it's been a long time since either of them put out an EP, mixtape or single that was remotely interesting, let alone good, and I'm now in the position where anything released by either of them is about as exciting as the prospect of an Ashanti album. Her stubbornness and steely grit has definitely made her an exciting prospect though, and while half of that attention will filter into the whole "leaking her own album" aura of petulance about her, some of it trickled into her music and the devastatingly personal cover of Cleaning Out My Closet - in which she details her sexual abuse at the age of seven - made listening to her an uncomfortable mixture of awe and awful. On Dirty Gold , unfortunately, the latter rings truer. The pr