Two recent album reviews for the Mancunion Newspaper
The Joy Formidable - Big Roar (Canvasback/Atlantic)
Two and a half out of five
In the last few years, Indie Pop Rock has produced a stale production line of young acts begging to be seen as raw but accessible. North Wales trio The Joy Formidable are no different. Following 2009 mini album A Balloon Called Moaning, the band’s debut full length is raucous, dark and serious, but craves depth and originality.
Recurring themes throughout include a tiring “the world is going to end but we’ve all been brave” vibe, huge doses of jackhammer basslines and a never ending assault of irate guitar riffs. These combined create a record with drenched sound and attitude, but without a pen to write home with.
Ritzy Bryan’s vocals are flawless, but are rarely complimented by a guitar melody of any form. And here’s a bit of Physical Geography for you, the seemingly endless layering of guitars causes song structures to become crushed under the pressure, forming a verbal and instrumental landslide, destroying the chances of any of these songs becoming memorable.
Big Roar does have its highlights, namely the Smashing Pumpkins-esque creeping tones of ‘Buoy’ and the progressive, thumping feel to opener ‘The Everchanging Spectrum of a Lie’. However, even their best efforts are starved of any absorbing bridges or choruses, bringing everything down just a notch or two.
This is partly what the band promised to produce since their 2007 formation, but without anything deviant of the current norm. Maybe in 2007 this would have settled perfectly into the world they intended to send it to, or at least it would have had a much better chance of success. With this, I fear new listeners have little to hold on to.
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R.E.M - Collapse Into Now (Warner Bros)
Three out of five
After over ten years of a seemingly decaying sound following the departure of original drummer Bill Berry, R.E.M.’s latest effort to return to the golden era falls well short again.
That’s not to say Collapse Into Now is a disappointing record, however. Opening with the pounding, thunderous tone of ‘Discoverer’, shortly followed by the sober pace to ‘All The Best’ whereby Michael Stipes’ monotonous vocals form perfectly, it’s clear to see that even in their fifties there is still creation left in the tank.
The eerie ‘Every Day Is Yours To Win’ combines contrasting cloudy and buoyant tones to create a beautiful track, whilst ‘Me, Marlon Brando, Marlon Brandon And I’ slowly builds to a shuddering finish.
The remaining eight tracks pass with a reduced tempo and few highlights, as blunt chord progressions (something the band have manipulated exquisitely in the past) and Stipes’ blank lyrics contribute to making this an OK record.
The prodding vocals to ‘Uberlin’ and the clichéd spoken lyrics in ‘Blue’ contribute to the alarming number of barely adequate fillers on this record, while the juvenile ‘Alligator Aviator Autopilot Antimatter’ and happy clappy ‘That Someone Is You’ sounds like the theme tune to something on Cartoon Network.
The sound itself is what we have come to expect from R.E.M. The result, when brought together with stiff lyrics, simple beats and tiring guitars, is nothing more than comfortable. This is a band, a legendary band, stuck between maintaining a past tone and creating a new one, perhaps running out of ideas.







