EP REVIEW: One Day As A Lion, One Day As A Lion (Released: Out Now)

The trouble leaving something familiar is forming a new cohesion with the unfamiliar. This almost always take time and often compromise and, however rarely, heartbreak.

The One Day As A Lion partnership between Zack De La Rocha and Jon Theodore (former Mars Volta drummer) has produced familiar substance of little groundbreaking worth. Listening to the self-entitled EP it’s difficult to hear anything new beyond the distinctive vocal chord assault.

Like Audioslave, this could be Rage with new faces conforming to what was already a successful but ageing sound.

The biggest flaw in all the tracks is the oppression upon them, not allowing them to become, to drop into a heavier, faster form. Sure ‘Ocean View’ has a breakdown with some hastier drums but no sooner do you want it to liftoff into a thrashing solo to that stirs moshpits, it finishes.

There’s still some powerful stuff though. ‘Last Letter’ is an anti-religious wake-up call, ‘Wild International’ is the customary anti-war war cry and ‘If You Fear Dying’ is a kick up the arse to all the paranoid victims of this quietly hysterical terrorist era.

Watch Rage Against The Machines 'Killing In The Name Of' below:

More interesting than these long-time Rage romanticised themes is De La Rocha’s vocal experimentation. Blurting what are some impressive melodies for the usually shouty MC his efforts unfortunately end up sounding like Ozzy Osbourne, albeit, early Ozzy.

The thing about familiarity is that sometimes you want it back so badly eventually the change heartbreaks your heart. There’s little compromise here. Potential to turn these songs into anthems is squandered, the sound shows little progression but then despite this refusal to move forward it still sounds as angry as ever, which will do us.

This review can be found on Thrash Hits with other pieces by Dean Samways.

Words: Dean Samways

Image: Google

LIVE REVIEW: Simian Mobile Disco, Southampton Guildhall (Date: 30.12.07)

I’m always a little bit sceptical when I’m about to see a dance act, even one prefixed, oddly, with the ‘indie’ adjective. There’s something Not Quite Right about seeing two guys playing music through a series of contraptions analogue and digital, LED-littered units and a mess of wires. They could just be playing their CDs under the desk, couldn’t they? They might have their iTunes library open, right?

Such pessimism often breeds a reluctance to go to this sort of gig. Some time ago a Chemical Brothers, Faithless or Fat Boy Slim show wouldn’t even have lightly pricked my interest. After tonight, though, I’m converted.

I’m a complete Simian Mobile Disco virgin. It took Justice to bring them to my attention, and they don’t even play that track tonight. Instead they blow me – and all and sundry – away with everything else. And they’re only the support band, playing second fiddle to Mercury winners Klaxons.

The visual show surrounding SMD’s bobbing twin bodies is almost as tight as the electronic beats: vertical bars of light flash between red, green and blue and guide white circles up and down around the two guys as they tweak their arrangement of equipment at the centre of the stage – it’s all very Radiohead at Glasto 2003, aesthetically. During each of the songs the two James’ are only visible by their silhouettes dashing between the beams, the ceiling cast in white light.

As expected the set is one long mix of tracks woven together with a joyous jauntiness that sends hands thrusting into the dry ice mist. But such descriptions inevitably fail to portray the display in all its real, malleable glory.

The duo continue to work their knobs, switches and buttons, bending bodies around in the darkness to the rhythm being generated. The use of the equipment as a percussion instrument is impressive, and with every thud of an open fist the songs alter and transform into the next track. Sound and vision is often said to be the sensory combination that inspires and awes, and this astonishes. This feels more of an event than a traditional gig, with subsequent DJs sending the crowd into a euphoric state of indie trance. Headliners Klaxons can only stand back and wish that their show was as electric as their support’s. An unfortunate position to be in, especially when you’ve supposedly penned NME’s Song of the Year.

Words: Dean Samways

Photos: neumagazine.co.uk

LIVE REVIEW: We Are Scientists, Southampton University Student's Union (Date: 18.11.07)

Great gigs that stay with you fall into two categories: epic or fun. Arcade Fire, Editors and Muse are epic spectacles that shake you to your very core and leave your bones resonating for an age. Bloc Party, Dirty Pretty Things and Dizzee Rascal are fun. Fun should not be confused with throwaway. These loosen the jaw and relax the bladder. They stun. They throw bodies into spins and send arms-a-flailing. We Are Scientists are of the latter category.

Bouncing on stage with a new drummer and guitarist, who are never really introduced, Keith and Chris promise to “fuck you up!”; by this they bring a little bit of entertainment and learning, and like an episode of Sesame Street where Big Bird is cavity checked by that doughy-eyed mammoth, they deliver. They hit the crowd hard with a lightning rendition of ‘Nobody Move, Nobody Get Hurt’ then flow straight into ‘This Scene Is Dead’, which is slower than its recorded counterpart but is as pounding as an assault of kettle drums. Now comes the banter: WaS seem to have an uncanny ability to be as funny as hell, but only if you’re in on the gag. This doesn’t detract from the understood japes being little nuggets of comedy genius.

After ‘Inaction’ an uneasy stride is taken into unknown territory. The first of the new songs is played for the crowd to get their ears around. Perhaps called ‘Patience’, it echoes Coldplay and is the first indication that maybe this ‘difficult’ second album will be more destined for the coffee table than the dance floor.

Another new one has a new romantic tone. Keys are given more prominence in the new repertoire as the tempo dawdles to an ambient, Rapture-like slow jam. It’s now that you ask yourself, “What’s happened?”

Just as it seems all is lost and the Scientists seem destined to be locked up in the lab to find that secret ingredient of dance indie again, they leisurely thrash out ‘It’s A Hit’, ‘Lousy Reputation’ and ‘The Great Escape’ before coming back on to attack a somewhat disheartened crowd with another new one. This time it’s ‘70s punk, aggressive and just what was needed. Hope is restored and then cemented with ‘Cash Cow’.

“We had to finish on this… because it’s so fucking dance-able!”

Words: Dean Samways

Photo: Peter Hill