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PAUL WELLER SATURNS PATTERN


Alex


Paul Weller has never been a stranger to reinvention – his years with the Jam and the Style Council are proof enough of this – but his latest release, the futuristic, sci- fi sounding Saturns Pattern is a whole new direction altogether. With clear progression from his previous effort, 2013’s Sonik Kicks, Saturns Pattern is synth-soaked and full of electronic elements with exceptional production; there are pauses and stammers that leave you on the edge of your seat. White Sky is the best example of this – the introduction could be a Horrors song, the inserts and sound effects almost Clean Bandit-like. Of course, no Weller album is complete without magnificent, booming guitars and Saturns Pattern is no exception – woven intricately into the electric mesh of sound are heavenly alt- rock whispers and bluesy solos, dancing above a weathered bass line. Long Time transports you to a sweltering bar in the wild west somewhere with its rollercoaster of psychedelic riffs, hand claps and jangly piano bursts and I’m Where I Should Be paints pictures of deep space, almost reminiscent of Life On Mars-era Bowie. Closing Saturns Pattern is the mighty eight-and-a-half-minute Tese City Streets, a conclusion that’ll leave you wishing for more from a sophisticated, contemporary album by an aging but still spectacular musician.


20 / July 2015/outlineonline.co.uk


FLORENCE & THE MACHINE HOW BIG, HOW BLUE, HOW BEAUTIFUL


Finley


I really wanted to love this album. Florence Welsh’s earlier work had meant a lot to me as an angsty 13 year old, and so I felt almost obliged to find the same sort of reverent affinity with How Big, How Blue, How Beautiful. On first listen, I wasn’t convinced. Te knitting together of folky rock and brass sections felt rather repetitive across the album, as well as slightly crowded at times. However, the second half of the album is, without a doubt, worth sticking around for. It’s the more stripped back tracks that make up the backbone of How Big, How Blue, How Beautiful. Te lack of elaborate instrumentals in St. Jude and Long & Lost throws Florence’s astonishing vocals into sharp relief, illustrating the striking balance between power and vulnerability that her voice commands. Tese songs are most indicative of the four-year gap between albums, bringing a newfound maturity to the music. Tird Eye is my favourite of all, and comes closest to the majestic, shout-out-loud anthems that Florence is famous for. Album number three definitely has some moments of genius, but unfortunately isn’t quite all I hoped for.


SLEAFORD MODS KEY MARKETS


Lizz


Jason Williamson haunts me. I wake in the night for a wee and there’s Bronx in a Six’s chorus prodding my brain. I go to the supermarket after work and can’t stop thinking about the weird lyrics to Tarantula Deadly Cargo. I chat with buddies and all I can hear is “You pretend to be proud of your own culture while simultaneously not giving two fucks about your own culture.” Andrew Fearn’s simple laptop beats accompany Jason’s spitted, barbed and wickedly funny lyrics. Tis, their third proper album begins with a crowd chanting “Sleaford Mods! Sleaford Mods!” and Live Tonight sets in with repetitive grimy guitar, a drum machine and bleak lyrics. Bronx in a Six is a total testosterone strut. Silly Me has a dub swagger to it and Williamson even sings the odd line, albeit it slightly and deliberately off key. Quiet Streets offers more obvious and pointed jabs political jabs; “Miliband got hit with the ugly stick, not that it matters, the chirping c*nt obviously wants the country in tatters; they all do”. Rupert Trousers has some stunning lines “dark movement past sycamore trees in the hamlet of Newton or wherever..” and then disses Blur brilliantly; “even the drummer’s a fucking MP”. He’s angry and he’s honest. Tat’s important and rare. I’d say Jason’s a poet, but he’d fucking hate that. A vital call to arms.


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