A solo album from one third of The xx; Irish post-punk goodness.
Oliver sim
Hideous Bastard
As a big fan of The xx, I was a bit sceptical about this solo album from the singer and bassist Oliver Sim. To put it kindly, neither he nor his bandmate Romy Madley Croft possess much in the way of vocal range, yet the compelling interplay between these two soft-spoken, laconic singers is absolutely a part of The xx magic. How would either of them stand on their own? Well it’s fair to say that Sim doesn’t suddenly transform into Freddie Mercury on his first solo effort, but he fares surprisingly well with his vocal front and centre.
I’m ugly is a pretty startling lyric to begin an album, but the real kicker of the opening song Hideous is near the end: Been living with HIV since seventeen / Am I hideous? The album feels a like a deeply personal project; a therapy session might sound like a cringey way to describe it but Sim is clearly using the music to process the emotions and experiences in his life. Though the rest of the songs don’t quite match the raw power of the opener, he does come up with some memorable lines. Disney princes, my God, I hate them / I’m Buffalo Bill, I’m Patrick Bateman. Despite the dark lyrics, the record doesn’t come off as miserable or self-pitying, rather you feel as if Sim has successfully purged his demons out of his system.
Musically the record shares some of The xx DNA with the gentle electronic beats and moody piano and synths; songs like Confident Man and Saccharine could sit quite easily on one of their albums. It may not hit the same heights, but there are enough gorgeous and intriguing moments to keep me listening from start to finish, and not miss Romy’s vocals too much. How about a proper fourth The xx album though?
FONTAINES D.C.
Skinty Fia
I’ve been hearing good things about this Irish post-punk band for years, but they finally caught my eye with their intriguingly named third album. The clue to its meaning is in the album cover showing a skittish deer: in Irish Gaelic, ‘skinty fia’ is basically an old swear that roughly translates to ‘damnation of the deer’. Apparently this album was inspired by the fact that most of the band members are currently living in London, missing Dublin, and feeling Irish and out of place.
The mood therefore is quite gloomy, anxious and melancholic. It begins with an ominous bass line and haunting harmonies chanting in Irish, before lead singer Grian Chatten’s heavily accented vocals kick in. I always like to get a feel of a specific place from a singer’s voice. Though he’s a tad nasally, Chatten is undoubtedly distinctive and more versatile than you’d initially assume, tough and growly in some songs, more tender and reflective in others. The music is likewise more adventurous than the post-punk label would suggest. I’m not really familiar with the band’s first two albums, but a third record is often the one where you’d want to experiment and stretch yourself… and maybe even bring in an accordion, as they do on a mournful ballad The Couple Across the Way.
I don’t always make an effort to go into an album’s backstory, or listen closely to the lyrics, but it does pay off here, especially with the standout track I Love You. It begins as a dreamy love letter to Chatten’s homeland, before turning into a powerful, angry rant about everything wrong with the country that makes the best of young Irish people leave.
yggdrasille.com 