Albums Of The Year 2006

Wot, no Arctic Monkeys? No Razorshite? No Fratellis? No Kooks?


Hopefully those revelations won't spoil your enjoyment of this list too much! Every year that goes by, I consume a wider variety of music, and every year that goes by, these lists get harder to compose. That is, of course, what I love about it - but I increasingly wonder how magazines manage to cover the whole year with just a top 30 or even a top 50. There was so much great music this year, although it’s worth stating that the top 10 of this list really are clear standouts for me. Some caveats as usual - there are plenty of no doubt great albums that I haven’t heard in their entirety yet - particular apologies must go to MJ Hibbett, as I’ve been meaning to purchase his ‘We Validate!’ album for some time. Also absent are the likes of Clipse, Booka Shade, Nathan Fake, Current 93, James Holden, Bill Frisell/Ron Carter/Paul Motian, Branford Marsalis, Grizzly Bear, Gotan Project, Andrew Hill, Micah P Hinson, The Knife, Ooioo, Old Crow Medicine Show, Brad Mehldau and Pat Metheny, Prefuse 73, Tomasz Stanko, Tilly and The Wall, Adem, Blood Brothers, The Hot Puppies, Islands, Dabrye, Destroyer and many others, simply because they haven’t landed in my collection yet. Oh, and I’ve left out Joanna Newsom simply because I’m not quite convinced yet, and it strikes me as the sort of album that doesn’t invite indifference. It’s either got to be near the top or nowhere… An honorary mention must go to Exercise 1’s superb 50 Minutes compilation, which I haven’t included here due to the fact that my own band Unit (sadly now defunct) are included on it. All proceeds go to the Medical Care Foundation for victims of torture, and it’s a consistently enthralling collection of 50 1 minute long songs from 50 artists. With the likes of After Christmas, Piney Gir, Jeremy Warmsley, Emmy The Great, The Hot Puppies and the beguiling Laura Groves (definitely one to watch in 2007), it’s a great cast of mavericks and tunesmiths. Of the final list, I inevitably leave myself vulnerable to accusations of ‘genre tokenism’ - but I’d much rather reflect the range of music I enjoy in any one year than focus on one particular area. So, without further ado, here’s part one (100-51)….

100. A Hawk And A Hacksaw – The Way The Wind Blows (Leaf)
Having worked with Neutral Milk Hotel and on the excellent Beirut album (more on that later), Jeremy Barnes’ project were always going to be worth investigating. This actually traverses very similar ground to the Beirut record, drawing on some unusual influences, particularly Eastern European folk music. A quick look at the later, bawdier films of Serbian director Emir Kusturica will give a good idea where this sound is coming from, but it’s filtered through that instantly recognizable US indie spirit. Good to see the Leaf label continuing to branch out, it’s still one of the most interesting and dependable labels out there.

99. Pet Shop Boys - Fundamental (Parlophone)
Comfortably their best album since ‘Very’, but given the poor standard of the intervening releases, that wasn’t too difficult. It’s sadly weighted a little heavily in favour of mood pieces and ballads, but it’s where the band return to their 80s pop roots that they are at their most musically effective. That they coupled this back to basics approach with some thoroughly contemporary and neatly observed social and political ruminations has saved them from marginal irrelevance. A smart, incisive record that should have come from a much younger band.

98. Morrissey – Ringleader Of The Tormentors (Attack/Sanctuary)
Another of those ‘mixed bag’ albums, this saw Morrissey veer between his most inspired and his most predictable. If ‘The Youngest Was The Most Loved’ was another rewrite of the corrupted young criminal song Morrissey has been writing since the mid-80s, ‘Dear God, Please Help Me’, ‘At Last I Am Born’ and ‘Life Is A Pigsty’ introduced entirely new elements to his work – a sense of epic grandeur and what seemed like sincere personal experience. Some may read too deeply into this material, and Moz undoubtedly still loves nothing as much as provocation, but the best of this album sounded strangely joyful and triumphant.

97. Mystery Jets – Making Dens (679)
A strange line-up involving a father and his son, two drummers and a whole collection of weird and wonderful songs in the best English pop tradition, Mystery Jets immediately seemed like an exciting prospect. If the loss of Syd Barrett was one of 2006’s sadder moments, this band are doing more than any other right now to keep his madcap spirit alive.

96. Tom Petty – Highway Companion (Warners)
This dusty, dirt-road gem was one of the surprises of the year for me. It soundtracked a good part of my long car journeys between London and Aberystwyth and back during the summer, and proved itself the perfect driving album. It’s Petty’s best collection of songs for some time, and even Jeff Lynne’s production, usually uncomfortably smooth and glossy, fails to intrude. Petty’s deceptively simple lyrics also include some worldly wisdom too.

95. Lindsey Buckingham – Under The Skin (Warners)
If anyone had told me at the start of the year I’d be including a solo album from Fleetwood Mac’s lead guitarist in my albums of the year list, I’d probably have laughed out loud. Yet this album is genuinely excellent. It’s an acoustic singer-songwriter album, but one that breaks with so many traditions and conventions that it sounds largely unprecedented. This is one of the few solo acoustic albums in recent years to really make full use of the studio – so much of it sounds strange and refreshingly inventive. There’s also denying the technical virtuosity of the playing, which frequently serves to add gravitas.

94. Flipron – Biscuits For Cerberus (Tiny Dog)
I first saw Flipron at the free festival Strawberry Fair in Cambridge (sadly currently under threat because of changes to the way policing at big events is funded), and they proved one of the discoveries of the year. Although there’s definitely a retro/psychedelic influence on display here, this was no reverent musical history lesson. In the song titles alone, there’s a wickedly inventive wit at work, and the songs themselves are playful and exceedingly entertaining.

93. Various Artists – Rogue’s Gallery (Epitaph)
An album of sea shanties and pirate ballads? Curated by Hal Wilner on commission from Pirates Of The Caribbean director Gore Verbinski? What a bizarre prospect. If a sizeable chunk of the cast list didn’t exactly look inspiring (Sting, Bono, Brian Ferry), it’s remarkable what artists can achieve when given an interesting project. With the band comprised of members of Akron/Family and Pete Thomas from Elvis Costello’s band, the music veers between the raucous and the desolate, whilst the lyrics are frequently outrageously bawdy.

92. Jarvis – The Jarvis Cocker Record (Rough Trade)
One of those albums that I really wanted to place at the top end of the list, but is just slightly let down by strange sequencing and a couple of ineffectual tracks (concluding on a note as banal as ‘everything is gonna be all right’ just doesn’t seem right for Jarvis). It’s actually the natural successor to ‘We Love Life’, and might just as well have been the next Pulp album. The emphasis is again on mordant reflection refracted through characteristically sharp wit, and some of the instrumentation is spend (the rare deployment of a marimba on ‘Baby’s Coming Back To Me’, the thunderous thud of ‘Black Magic’). The highlight is still ‘Running The World’, not only politely titled, but hidden away 30 minutes after the end of the album proper – a delightfully righteous, and mostly accurate, rant about the improper order of things.

91. The Long Blondes – Someone To Drive You Home (Rough Trade)
One of the few hyped indie bands I actually warmed to this year, mainly by virtue of Kate Jackson’s thrilling bellow of a voice and a set of immediately winning tunes. The lyrics are every bit as cannily observed as those of the Arctic Monkeys, but somehow don’t seem to have been gifted as much attention. In particular, they seem to deal very thoughtfully with the variety of relationships between women – from sisterhood to sexual experimentation.

90. Piney Gir’s Country Roadshow - Hold Yer Horses (Truck)
A lovely album, with Piney’s witty and occasionally touching take on country conventions ably supported by a band who play with authenticity and vigour.

89. Bat For Lashes - Fur And Gold (Echo)
One of those albums where you have to completely yield to the world it creates for itself. The preoccupation with fantasy, mysticism and magic in the lyrics leaves ‘Fur and Gold’ open to accusations of pretension, but there’s a mystery, grace and fairytale quality to this album that renders it spellbinding. Natasha Khan has huge potential.

88. Midlake – The Trials Of Van Occupanther (Bella Union)
My review of this album from a few weeks ago had an underlying suspicion of blandness that I’m already beginning to retract. The nuances keep coming through on each repeated listen, and the blend of exquisite vocal harmonies, piano backing and exotic instrumentation sounds increasingly sophisticated. Crosby, Stills and Nash and Rumours-era Fleetwood Mac may be unfashionable influences, but it’s precisely this that set Midlake apart from the generic indie pack in 2006. Midlake have constructed a mysterious and antiquated landscape in much the same way as The Decemberists, and they have populated it with a collection of rewarding, slow-building songs.

87. I Love You But I’ve Chosen Darkness - Fear Is On Our Side (Secretly Canadian)
Like Interpol jamming with Ministry, this was a pulsating, relentless and highly effective bulldozer of a record. It’s loud, propulsive and dramatic, and there’s no resisting it!

86. Paul Burch - East To West (Bloodshot)
Not perhaps Burch’s very best work, but still with plenty to offer, and, in the case of ‘John Peel’, a genuine, sincere and profoundly moving tribute. He remains one of America’s best unsung songwriters, and a master of that authentic barroom country sound. He’s also a superb singer, with a deceptively laid-back, conversational style that really elevates his material.

85. Loose Fur - Born Again In The USA (Domino)
Perhaps more conventional than the first Loose Fur album, but actually much better than many suggested, with vibrant playing and plenty of real freedom. Without having to conform to conventional expectations, Loose Fur continue to play with form to delightful, occasionally comic effect.

84. Junior Boys - So This Is Goodbye (Domino)
Not quite the masterpiece some thought, mainly because the second half drifts too far into the ether and becomes dull, but the good points comfortably outweigh the bad. At its best, it’s a marked improvement on the more-than-promising first album ‘Last Exit’, and Jeremy Greenspan’s endearingly smooth voice makes for an effective instrument in itself. The synth-heavy backings are frequently unusual and highly creative – ‘In The Morning’ in particular is one of the most interesting sounding tracks of the year.

83. Sparks - Hello Young Lovers (Gut)
‘Hello Young Lovers’ was a bonkers, highly ornate and totally hilarious pop irony master class from these old heroes. They’re actually right back at the top of their game, and this sits comfortably alongside ‘Lil Beethoven’ as a fine example of their best work.

82. Tortoise and Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy - The Brave and The Bold (Domino)
This one has been very peculiarly ignored. Those who wanted to hear straight covers of these songs would certainly have been disappointed - every track the two bands selected for this project has been completely remoulded, perhaps even reclaimed, and the results are frequently inspiring.

81. Magnolia Electric Co. - Fading Trails (Secretly Canadian)
Another year, another succession of Jason Molina albums. This one gathers together some songs that didn’t make the cut for their forthcoming ‘proper’ albums next year. Molina’s voice is more resonant and confident than ever, and the music veers from the strident to the decidedly haunting. The work of a maturing, increasingly superb songwriter.

80. The Gothic Archies - The Tragic Treasury (Nonesuch)
This is Stephin Merritt at his most playful, recording a collection of songs for the Lemony Snicket audio books. They pretty much encompass all his genre experiments, from deliberately wonky synth-pop to ukelele dominated modern folksong. As such, this may be as good a starting point for the uninitiated as ever.

79. Elvis Costello and Allen Toussaint - The River In Reverse (Lost Highway)
An important record, first because it unites two major musical figures, but secondly because it marks a long form response to the tragedy of Hurricane Katrina and a joyful celebration of the musical heritage of the city of New Orleans. Some of this is wonderful - with Costello sounding gritty and impassioned, and full of righteous fire. The only gripe is that it would have been good to hear more of Toussaint’s laconic voice - the contrast in styles between the two is marked and intriguing

78. Yeah Yeah Yeahs - Show Your Bones (Dress Up/Polydor)
Anyone suggesting the Yeah Yeah Yeahs had lost some of their lustre on this follow up to the acclaimed ‘Fever To Tell’ may simply have been listening for something that wasn’t there. This is a superbly produced record, characterised by inventive deployment of rock dynamics. Karen O’s voice has developed into something rather more controlled than the untamed howl that dominated on ‘Fever…’ and the whole album sees the band in confident, imaginative form. A more nuanced record than its predecessor, but no less feral.

77. Band Of Horses - Everything All The Time (Sub Pop)
Song for song this is one of the best albums on the entire list, although the nagging sensation that the band have simply aped the My Morning Jacket reverb-laden rock sound leaves it lingering further down the list than I would ideally have liked. It’s a forceful record nonetheless though, made all the more impressive by its relatively concise running time.

76. Wilderness - Vessel States (Jagjaguwar)
Perhaps only marred by the fact that it sounded exactly like the previous Wilderness record, this spindly, occasionally frightening record, heavily influenced by ‘Metal Box’ era PiL, is included here largely in recognition of the fact that I missed their debut last year. More of the same, but it’s a compelling sound.

75. Steve Coleman and Five Elements - Weaving Symbolics (Label Bleu)
Probably the most ‘difficult’ record I’ve heard this year, and not one I’ve been inclined to return to very often, simply because Coleman remains one of the most defiantly serious musicians at work. With his emphasis on conceptual structures and thematic approaches, he might even be considered pretentious, were it not that he has the compositional skill and sublime quality of musicianship to back it all up. ‘Weaving Symbolics’ is dense, furious and provocative – the work of an undoubted major talent exploring the wilder margins of contemporary music.

74. The Flaming Lips - At War With The Mystics (Warners)
Not as immediate a record as ‘Yoshimi…’, and certainly not as inspired as ‘The Soft Bulletin’, ‘At War With The Mystics’ still had much to recommend it when taken on its own terms. The infatuation with bleeps and silly sound effects was mostly superceded by the dense atmospheres the band craft so well, and a maverick lack of respect for conventional structure pervades the record. Wayne Coyne was in fighting form too, although some of the lyrics elected not to confront geopolitical issues directly. As ever, the results were supremely ambitious and touchingly humane.

73. James Hunter - People Gonna Talk (Rounder)
Hunter, together with increasingly infamous London engineer Liam Watson, crafted a really charming record that effortlessly combines the influence of the peerless Sam Cooke with a splendidly authentic pop-blues sound. There were hints of ‘Papa’s Got A Brand New Bag’ in the punchy horn arrangements, but the remarkably crisp rhythm section and smart phrasing of Hunter’s understated vocal added originality and depth.

72. Psapp - The Only Thing I Ever Wanted (Domino)
‘Toytronica’ may be one of 2006’s more unpalatable genre terms (much like when Hot Chip were unfortunately labeled ‘game boy music), but Psapp’s playful electronic pop proved thoroughly charming. There’s something of Tom Waits’ junkyard approach here, but there’s also humour and a real sense of fun and adventure.

71. Ne-Yo - In My Own Words (Universal)
Well who cares about image or fashion? Most readers here might be surprised at my admiration for this record, but I still think it’s one of the most sophisticated and entertaining albums to have come from the US R&B market in a long time. It’s incredibly smooth, and the influence of R Kelly is palpable, particularly in Ne-Yo’s remarkable self-confidence in his own seduction skills. The reason this works is because it mostly eschews production trickery in favour of good old fashioned songcraft. Ne-Yo’s writing will hopefully mature, but there is enough to enjoy here already.

70. The Lemonheads - The Lemonheads (Vagrant)
The press may focus on his years of drug abuse, or his slightly shambling appearance, but in terms of songcraft, Evan Dando can simply do no wrong. The new line-up, particularly with Bill Stevenson from The Descendents on drums, have crafted a crisper, more defined sound for this outing, and the songs remain memorable and punchy as ever. Mercifully in this case, very little has really changed in The Lemonheads sound. The one niggling gripe may be that others have now captured the signature Evan Dando style better than the man himself – the most successful (and characteristic) contributions here come from Stevenson and longstanding collaborator Tom Morgan.

69. The Broken Family Band – Balls (Track and Field)
BFB comfortably remain my favourite UK live rock act, and with ‘Balls’, they finally produced an album that distils the raucous essence of their live shows. Perhaps this time emphasizing the punk over the country, these were mostly loud and energetic songs that provided the perfect complement for Steven Adams’ savage dry humour.

68. Ellen Allien and Apparat - Orchestra Of Bubbles (Bptich Control)
One of the most fascinating and subtle electronic albums of the year, this was music for the head as well as the feet, with distant sounds, propulsive beats emerging and disappearing, and some cleverly processed, slightly detached vocal parts. It all melded together effortlessly, sounding mysterious and compelling.

67. Calexico - Garden Ruin (City Slang)
Another record inexplicably missing from a number of end-of-year polls, especially as the integration of rock dynamics marked something of a sidestep for this well established band. This is not to say that their desert Mariachi concerns have been abandoned completely – but there’s a definite shift of emphasis to the basics of songcraft here that works surprisingly well.

66. The Roots – Game Theory (Def Jam)
‘Don’t Feel Right’ alone in worth a thousand 50 Cents or Chamillionaires. Here was a hip hop album with something to say, and with expertly produced music that as as tight as anything in the seventies funk canon. This may come to be recognised as The Roots’ finest achievement. ‘Phrenology’ might have been more obviously ambitious – but this is both taut and concise, and highly effective for it.

65. Kode 9 and Space ape - Memories Of The Future (Hyperdub/Kode9)
2006 was the year that dubstep became a recognised genre outside its own scene, and ‘Memories Of The Future’ was one of the major statements emerging from the field. Enjoyment of it does largely depend on one’s opinion on Spaceape himself, his deep, West Indian intonations may either enthrall or irritate. I find this album peculiar and almost alien in its sound and atmosphere, yet, like its counterpart in the even more substantial Burial album, there’s a real sense of urban alienation here that is recognisable.

64. The Handsome Family - Last Days Of Wonder (Carrot Top)
This ended up one of those ‘take for granted’ albums, given that it didn’t exactly represent any major development or progression in the established Handsome Family gothic Americana sound. Still, it’s as a good a collection of songs as they’ve produced. In ‘Beautiful William’, they had an eerily beautiful ballad to match ‘Birds You Cannot See’ or ‘The Giant Of Illinois’. There’s also the sense that the music is gradually becoming less rudimentary and more expansive, but without compromising the ethos behind it.

63. Donald Fagen - Morph The Cat (Reprise)
The Steely Dan man continues his rather futile quest for musical perfection, and I can’t help but think that a little more of the life and energy of earlier Steely Dan works continues to be purified out with each new release. The writing remains exquisite though, and this contains some typically weird, yet also pointedly contemporary songs. Fagen’s voice has now weathered a little with age, and he sounds even drier than ever here.

62. Ralph Towner - Time Line (ECM)
One of the few ECM releases I’ve managed to hear this year, Towner’s latest is a solo guitar album of real contemplative beauty. The themes are stately and simple, but they flow effortlessly into improvised passages of astounding fluency. Towner long ago invented a new language for his instrument – it is a source of wonder that he is still drawing new meaning from it.

61. Soweto Kinch - A Life In The Day Of B19: Tales From The Towerblock (Dune)
This is a very good album, full of pithy (and very British) observations and, where the towerblock concept could have been patronising and forced, Kinch had real empathy for his characters and their stories. It could have been great, had Kinch not compromised his aesthetic by programming the drums on the hip hop tracks and keeping live drums for the swing jazz. This created an artificial divide between the two forms, where in live performance the outstanding Troy Miller grooves as hard as he swings. Still, I’m very much looking forward to the second installment of this two album project next year.

60. Glenn Kotche – Mobile (Nonesuch)
The Wilco drummer’s solo work was completely unexpected – with an intriguing take on Steve Reich’s ‘Drumming’ forming a substantial part of it, but also a whole range of interesting experimental percussion work on offer throughout. It sounded completely unlike anything else released in 2006, and was the work of a brave and questing musician distancing himself from some of the more conventional aspects of his band work.

59. Lambchop – Damaged (City Slang)
Business as usual without doubt, but a much more succinct and effective offering than the laboured double set from a couple of years ago. Wagner’s lyrics are somehow both elusive and elucidating, and there is a whole world of hard-won wisdom on offer here. Musically, it’s become yet more sedate, and if there’s an adequate reference point, it would probably have to be the gentle barroom blues of the Tindersticks.

58. Susanna and The Magical Orchestra - Melody Mountain (Rune Grammofon)
This extraordinary covers album continues to grow on me with every listen. I initially thought the uniformity of mood was an obstacle – but actually the consistent tone is crucial to its success. Susanna has taken an intriguing set of songs, many well known, and reinvented them. She does this brilliantly, and the nuances of her Nordic vocals charm and beguile whilst the skeletal accompaniment gives only the stark minimum of support.

57. Stephin Merritt - Show Tunes (Nonesuch)
The better of the two Stephin Merritt records this year by means of its slightly different context (‘The Tragic Treasury’ could in fact have easily been another Magnetic Fields record). However, those who failed to see any connection between this and the rest of the Merritt canon simply because his own voice is absent are simply failing to listen properly. ‘Showtunes’ is jam packed with customarily wry Merritt humour. The music, whilst incorporating a newfound interest in all things Chinese, still follows Merritt’s tendency towards playing conventional harmony with unusual sounds and instruments. The songs are mercilessly concise – and given that they are mostly presented out of chronology, it’s arguably difficult to get a good sense of the shows themselves. It would be great if this could be rectified by having them performed on the stage in this country.

56. Matthew Herbert – Scale (Accidental)
Scale may just be something of a grower. I initially felt it suffered in comparison with the previous Herbert albums in that it sounded much more conventional – at times almost just a highly sophisticated pop album. Yet perhaps there’s really nothing wrong with this, and its more reflective moments do require a degree of work on behalf of the listener that most dance records have no intention of demanding. As ever, the array of sampled sounds is completely bewildering, and Herbert is still a pioneer and an innovator in this area.

55. Jeremy Warmsley – The Art Of Fiction (Transgressive)
Warmsley’s talent continues to develop, and this first longform statement was significant and impressive. Although essentially a collection of pre-released tracks previously spread across Eps and singles, it had been lovingly remastered and sequenced as a complete whole, only interrupted by a brief intermission. Its ambitious scope means that its very difficult to pin down or define Jeremy’s sound – and thank goodness for that! There’s no reason on earth why all music should be confined to neat genre classifications. He is learning to tame and control his voice, and recent live shows have demonstrated that he is using it to even greater effect. I think there is a more mature and consistent record to come from Jeremy – but he is a songwriter and musician of tremendous promise.

54. Comets On Fire - Avatar (Sub Pop)
Heralded as part of a nu-psychedelic movement, what actually struck me most about this album is how rhythmically exciting it is. Regardless of the number of noodling guitar solos, it’s the relentless drive and clatter of the drums and the distant rumble of the bass that do most to sustain my attention. That the vocals are rich in intelligent harmony, and melodic in a quite singular way, helps make it all the more fascinating.

53. Boxcutter - Oneiric (Planet Mu)
Perhaps more typical of the jittering and stuttering of what the Americans would term IDM than the dubstep movement that informed it, Boxcutter’s album was less dense and more exuberant, with a playful skip in its step.

52. M Ward – Post War (Matador)
It’s difficult to judge this when I keep returning to Ward’s outstanding ‘Transistor Radio’ album from last year. This doesn’t affect me so much on a personal level, although the songs are consistently excellent. Some of Ward’s idiosyncrasies may have been buried in the full band arrangements, although the sound is full and powerful. Lyrically, he continues to improve though, and there is the sense that he is maturing and progressing as a writer.

51. The Pipettes – We Are The Pipettes (Memphis Industries)
Killjoys be damned! If there was a more recklessly joyful album released in 2006, I haven’t heard it. The Pipettes are of course lacking originality and depth – but that’s basically the point. This is essentially a loving recreation of the 50s and 60s girl group sound, complete with school proms and a cast of sterotyped characters. It’s hugely infectious and ridiculously enjoyable, as all good pop should be.

50-1 will be with you by the end of the week....

Tidying Up

There's a whole load of stuff I haven't got around to writing about yet, so here's a bit of a catch up in advance of my albums of the year.

First of all, it's time for me to eat some humble pie. A couple of years ago, I reacted violently every time Amy Winehouse appeared on TV or received a glowing review (mind you, that 'Stronger Than Me' single was dreadful...). Two things have made me completely revise my opinions. Seeing her perform a song at Ko's final gig at the Green Note in Camden Town (a tiny cafe venue) was genuinely sensational and, secondly, the consistently high quality of her 'Back To Black' album is something of a revelation. A lot of back to basics soul albums turn out to be bland and insignificant, but her second album very much sees Winehouse finding her own voice. For sure, she's achieved this by heading back to some staple influences for inspiration (Ray Charles, Billy Paul, Donny Hathaway, swing jazz), but there's a soulful spirit to this music that is genuine and unforced. She still remains bolshy and mouthy throughout (with lyrics like 'what kind of fuckery are we/now you don't mean dick to me', one wonders why anyone gets involved with her), but the whole experience now seems much more natural and less contrived. Anyway, she's still a lightweight in the explicit and bitchy department when placed next to someone like Millie Jackson. Mark Ronson's production adds a distinctively modern sheen, with hints of hip hop flavouring, but without diluting the record's timeless spirit. The arrangements are rich and elaborate, but without sacrificing the infectious qualities of peerless pop songs such as 'Rehab' and 'You Know I'm No Good'. Perhaps Winehouse's nasal voice remains an acquired taste, but she seems less interested in simply emulating Billie Holiday this time round, and the vocal phrasing is impressively sophisticated. The highlights are too numerous to list, but the tender 'Love's A Losing Game', with delicate and restrained guitar playing that ably supports her expressive vocal, adds new dimensions to her craft and the title track is supremely ambitious.

The last album from EST (Viaticum) was highly acclaimed and just scraped the bottom end of my end-of-year list for 2005. It is, however, not an album I've returned too much this year, its austere chamber mood feeling a bit stifling and oppressive. Its rapid successor 'Tuesday Wonderland' seems to be one of those take-it-for-granted albums that hasn't quite received its dues from the music press, even in specialist jazz circles. As usual, the titles of the compositions are worth the asking price alone, with 'Brewery of Beggars', 'Dolores In A Shoestand' and 'Eight hundred Streets By Feet' being particular favourites of mine. Musically, it retains many of the staple elements of Esbjorn Svensson's by now signature sound - the subtle integration of electronic textures, gently expanding harmonic motifs, and a subtle, deftly handled rhythmic invention. To these ears, this album pushes these elements further than anything this band have recorded since 'From Gagarin's Point Of View', and has taken them to a new, almost hypnotic effect. It's still much more about sound and atmosphere than the technical virtues of improvisation, but these compositions have more than enough ideas, and the album as a whole is very carefully sequenced.

There are three other jazz albums from 2006 that make for some quietly inspirational listening. Kenny Garrett returns with 'Beyond The Wall', an album that mercifully steers well clear of the banal and smooth territory this excellent musician can sometimes frustratingly inhabit. With Garrett's emotional tones playing alongside some fiery and impassioned blowing from Pharoah Sanders (age seems incapable of diminishing his force and fury), 'Beyond The Wall' neatly juxtaposes the gospel spirit of America with the spiritual and mystical intrigue of the East. It's an intoxicating brew, essential to which is the full and intensely felt piano accompaniment from Mulgrew Miller. As is frequently the case with Garrett, the themes are very simple, occasionally risking sounding insubstantial or incomplete, but in this context, the minimalism feels wholly appropriate, and the keenly felt performances are vibrant and expressive. Albums with spiritual inspirations can seem pretentious, and it's probably a huge help that Garrett managed to get Sanders on board (who played on some of the key albums in Alice Coltrane's series of devotional works and has pioneered this sound himself). 'Beyond The Wall' is, however, gritty and thrilling in its more explosive moments, and carefully controlled and contemplative in its moments of peace and calm.

Over in Britian, the F-IRE collective have spawned a number of genuinely exciting acts, with Pete Wareham's Acoustic Ladyland and Seb Rochford's Polar Bear getting the lion share of attention. Rochford also appears behind the drum kit with the excellent Oriole, although he demonstrates a very different style of playing here from the righteous clatter that now predominates in Acoustic Ladyland's music - here he is supremely sensitive, playing largely with brushes, and really supporting the melodic ebb and flow of the music. The group are directed by guitarist Jonny Phillips, whose compositions are deeply melodic, and frequently inspired by music from other cultures, particularly those of South America and Africa. Phillips' acoustic rhythm playing is textural, but far from neutral, establishing unusual and esoteric moods over which his melodies can float and linger. The combination of Ingrid Laubrock's ebullient saxophone and the languid, delicate cello of Ben Davis is distinctive and unassumingly original. This music is delicate and has a real subtlety that amply rewards repeated listens. The title, 'Migration', is apt, suggesting a flow not just of peoples, but also of ideas, values, sounds and experiences between countries and cultures. Phillips succeeds not just in observing this shared experience, but in fully inhabiting it himself.

Joe Lovano remains one of the world's most astounding saxophonists, capable of powerful extended solos and carefully constructed melodic expression. The variety of his playing means he can handle sensitive ballads every bit as adroitly as he can hard swing. For his latest project, a collaboration with arranger Gunter Schuller, he has returned to one of the key texts in the jazz canon, Miles Davis' 'Birth Of The Cool' collection. The rearrangement of these pieces into a big band suite is an unqualified success, with some inventive reharmonising from Schuller, as well as a whole range of new structural intricacies. The rhythm section swings effortlessly when required, but also handles the through-composed elements of the music with real precision. This music is sandwiched between a series of original compositions from Lovano, all of which are directly inspired by giant and iconic figures in the music's history. What could easily have seemed a tediously reverential exercise is invigorated by the sheer range of inspiration Lovano draws from - there are actually very few players who could claim to be as much inspired by Albert Ayler as Sonny Rollins. The spirit of Ellington and Mingus are naturally strong presences too, but the whole set really succeeds in playfully remodelling some of jazz history's more established conventions.

There are many people more qualified than me to comment on the return of the king of rap Jay Z (but surely every one of his last five albums has seen him 'come out of retirement?'), but I'm going to add my views anyway. 'The Black Album' was clearly one of those pivotal records that it's next to impossible to improve on, but there's little doubt that 'Kingdom Come' would be considered a lazy offering even from a much lesser talent. It starts well enough, with 'Oh My God' and the title track in particular offering something hard hitting and compelling. The latter reworks the Rick James Superfreak sample to surprisingly heavy impact. After that, however, it quickly goes wrong. 'Show Me What You Got', although one of the better tracks, is a sprawling and disorientating mess, whilst the appearance of bland crooner John Legend on the uninspiringly titled 'Do U Wanna Ride?' gives a strong hint at the direction in which the album is headed. From here on, the beats are basic to the point of tedium, and the rapping mainly consists of boasts about the level of credit Jay Z can get. Who cares apart from Beyonce when she wants her 450th pair of heels? It's baffling that one of the more maverick and ambitious productions here comes from Chris Martin! Even The Neptunes are coasting with their dull contribution.

Two albums from singer-songwriters have caught my attention in recent months. 'Song Of The Blackbird' by William Elliott Whitmore is one of the country albums of the year (thanks to Lauren for the tip, albeit it a not entirely unbiased one), and Whitmore's voice is absolutely superb. It's gravelly and gutsy like a soul man overdosing on bourbon, but by accompaning himself usually only with the starkest of settings, he nimbly avoids the pitfalls of cliche. There's a sincere and emotive quality of the music, and the experiences related seem believable, even when they adhere rigidly to American folk traditions ('Lee County Flood'). It's possibly at its best when Whitmore makes use of the banjo, which when used alone, is surprisingly dramatic. Like the excellent Benoit Pioulard album, this should be benefiting from some word of mouth buzz.

The other is 'People Gonna Talk', a very traditionalist, perhaps even conservative record from British bluesman James Hunter, that it's really impossible not to embrace with open arms. We're very much in Van Morrison territory here, although mercifully not the flowery hippy drivel of Astral Weeks, more the jazz-meets-blues territory that Morrison has wandered, occasionally fruitfully, in more recent years. Yet, this album has everything you could want from this form of music - vocals that are crisp but understated, and some saxophone arrangements that don't crowd the music. It's mainly driven by a precision perfect rhythm section, that can incorporate elements of ska or reggae without ever sounding uncomfortable. Hunter's lyrics are simple, but frequently they resonate precisely because of this, and his melodies are warmly familiar, delivered in an unhurried and unshowy style. All the tracks have a similar feel, but it is all so lovingly and authentically rendered (it was all recorded at Toerag studios with former White Stripes and Holly Golightly engineer Liam Watson), and at just forty minutes, it certainly doesn't outstay it's welcome. With repeated listens, the subtle differences in tone become more readily apparent - 'Walk Away' has a gentle swing, whilst the more melancholy 'Mollena' betrays the influence of Sam Cooke. This is a charming, beautifully restrained record that harks back to a bygone era with swing and sophistication.

The Canadian supergroup Swan Lake, involving Dan Bejar of Destroyer and The New Pornographers, along with Spencer Krug from Wolf Parade, are responsible for one of the very strangest records of 2006. 'Beast Moans' seems to have some unfashionably progressive influences behind it, from the peculiar cover art featuring mythical creatures to the baffling lyrics that seem to speak of other worlds. The music favours mysterious droning and exotic atmospherics over rhythm or melody, and as such, it's all a bit difficult to get a grip on. It may well be outstanding, but I also can't help feeling that it's deliberately difficult, and something of an indulgence for the musicians involved. It sometimes sounds intriguing, but rarely makes any real sense. Destroyer's 'Your Blues' album is certainly a far more effective foray into peculiar territory, and it works primarily through being much less guitar-based.

I have no such doubts about the enchanting qualities of Trentemoller's outstanding 'Last Resort' though. This is one of the outstanding electronic albums of the year (albeit with the caveat that I haven't yet managed to hear recommended efforts from Booka Shade, Current 93 and James Holden), sublime and genuinely hypnotic without ever being boring. So much club music only sounds good in clubs, but this, although heavily reliant on the kind of relentless and pulsating rhythm tracks that occasionally tie dance music too closely to its own conventions, sounds intense and imaginative on a home stereo system. It has a peculiar mechanistic beauty, and it alternates between moments of stark clarity and moments of genuine warmth.

I've really run the gamut of genres with this one!

2006: The Year In Popular Song

My albums of the year list will follow shortly, but for starters, here are some thoughts on the tracks that shaped my year, for better or for worse. All my own opinions, not work related etc etc....

Two tracks proved completely inescapable this year - the big, heavily hyped download-only number one from Gnarls Barkley and 'Over and Over', the superb party anthem from Hot Chip. The latter has now been released three times, and plays virtually every time I go to a club or music venue. It was one of those tracks that, largely by virtue of being simple, insistent but also knowingly clever, captured a wave of energy and enthusiasm. Much as I love it, it's not my favourite track on 'The Warning' - that would have to go to the sly, soulful nod to 'Walk On By' that is 'Look After Me', one of the very finest things Alexis has written to date.

Morrissey's 'Ringleader Of The Tormentors' proved a somewhat flawed and frustrating album, but contained a handful of superb tracks, not least the wonderful collaboration with Ennio Morricone on 'Dear God Please Help Me'. Unfortunately, Moz elected not to even attempt to recreate this grandiose melodrama in live concerts, instead preferring to focus on the album's more generic, plodding moments. It's one of his very best studio performances though - a vocal rich in nuance and emotion. Whether or not it's about some hot Roman gay sex is another matter....

Talking of which, everyone's favourite gay Canadians The Hidden Cameras managed to set out their agenda in a more inclusive and compelling way on 'Hump From Bending', one of the most thoroughly joyful tracks of the year. Combining playful innuendo with some righteous liberalism (if such a thing is possible), this felt like a genuine outsider anthem. Some people seemed to find the album, and the recent shows promoting it, disappointing - who were these fools?!

A number of artists provided food for thought in 2006 by mixing pop and politics. The Roots found a sublime streak of social consciousness hip hop with 'Don't Feel Right', one of the best singles of their career so far - punchy, hard-hitting and aware. By delving back into the American folk canon, Bruce Springsteen sounded more invigorated and powerful than he had in years. Not included on the initial pressings of the Seeger Sessions album, his reinterpretation of Blind Alfred Reed's 'How Can A Poor Man Stand Such Times and Live?' addressed the political failings of the Bush administration over Hurricane Katrina with righteous clarity. Less successful were some other attempts to deal with the same issue from Jay Z and U2 and Green Day, the former unaccountably lame, the latter grotesquely pompous. Many were keen to praise Neil Young's 'Living With War' album for its directness and passion - but place it next to Steve Earle and it just sounds unforgivably clunky and ill-judged. It might not be reasonable to expect daring political statements from the Pet Shop Boys, but with 'Integral' and 'Indefinite Leave To Remain', the two most successful tracks on their inconsistent 'Fundamental' album, they delivered some persuasive arguments against much-parroted political maxims. The former used neat satire to undermine the popular notion that 'if you've got nothing to hide, you've got nothing to fear', accurately and convincingly attacking the petty Stalinism of New Labour. Of all this year's political statements, however, the most significant may well be Scott Walker's 'The Drift', an album of such uncompromising vision and insight that it is utterly terrifying. It doesn't make sense to isolate specific tracks, but 'Clara' was itself as complex and ambitious as an entire opera, dramatic and intense, brilliantly capturing the modern world's inexorable drift to the extremes of tyranny and violence. It's entirely a matter of interpretation, but I liked to picture the Mr. Tough of Yo La Tengo's magnificently infectious song as George W himself, being enticed onto the dancefloor to distract him from misguided policies at home and abroad. It's also been a matter of some interpretive debate as to whether Bob Dylan's 'Workingman's Blues No. 2' marks a return to the leftist concerns of his protest days. The whole argument over this is probably pointless - the song is more about comradeship and solidarity in work than it is about any political ideology. Along with the superb 'Nettie Moore', it's his best work so far this decade.

In the mainstream pop world, Girls Aloud triumphed once again with the outrageously camp, loveably lightweight 'Something Kinda Oooh', but then it all went tits-up with that terrible version of 'I Think We're Alone Now'. I still admire McFly's winning way with a pop melody, whether they actually write and play their songs or not. 'Please Please' really was a slice of postmodern pop genius, neatly throwing those tabloid rumours about Harry and Lindsay Lohan back in everyone's faces. OutKast returned with an overlong, laborious and mostly boring soundtrack album, but 'Morris Brown' and 'Idlewild Blue' were superb singles, demonstrating their intuitive musical wit and invention. The major surprise of the year was Amy Winehouse, about whom I must now admit that I was completely and utterly wrong - 'Rehab' is everything a pop single should be and more. Madonna continued to pull singles from the ludicrously overrated Confessions On A Dancefloor album, with increasingly diminishing returns, 'Jump' being one of the least compelling records of her entire career. Initially, I thought Justin Timberlake's 'SexyBack' was a tuneless dirge, but forced to listen to it repeatedly, I now appreciate it as more of a minimal masterpiece, adding a whole new dimension to Timbaland's multi-faceted production. With 'Maneater' and 'Promiscuous', Nelly Furtado finally admitted that she's no great singer, stopped pretending, and made two brilliant dancefloor stompers. Even better than all of these was 'Black Sweat', which saw Prince veer towards crunk, although nobody seemed to notice, perhaps because the rest of the album was a bit shit.

In the indie world, everyone went crazy over those Arctic Monkeys - I remain completely indifferent. As for The Kooks, 'She Moves In Her Own Way', with its mock-scouse vocals, is one of the most incompetent and annoying strummy guitar records in ages. How can such manifest lack of ambition reap such huge rewards? I also couldn't get away from The Automatic's one-trick-pony shouty nonsense pop (not something I ever wanted), or Snow Patrol's dreary earnestness on 'Chasing Cars', a record that just refuses to go away. Oh, and Primal Scream completely embarrassed themselves, amplifying all the shamelessly derivative, ugly dimensions of their music for 'Country Girl' and 'Dolls'. For those that looked a little further afield there were rich pickings, with some sharp social and political commentary from the ever endearing MJ Hibbett on 'The Gay Train' and 'The Fight For History', a brilliant apropriation of northern soul stylings from Camera Obscura on 'Lloyd, I'm Ready To Be Heartbroken' and 'Let's Get Out Of This Country' and perhaps the best reversion of that ubiquitous rhythm from 'You Can't Hurry Love' on 'Once and Never Again' by The Long Blondes. I wanted to despise the latter because of the hype, but their sharply observed songs actually have real merit. The Gossip were the unlikely crossover stars of the year, and it's gratifying that they did it all on their own terms, with two superb singles in 'Listen Up' and 'Standing In The Way Of Control'. The Pipettes had their detractors, but they are beginning to look more and more like killjoys as their girl pop continues to warm my heart. 'Pull Shapes' was a particular triumph. Meanwhile, the award for most inventive song titles surely went to Flipron, for gems like 'Mingers In Paradise' and 'The Flatpack Bride Of Possibilities'. Splendid!

Further into the outer limits, there were some genuine slices of avant-garde pop genius. 'The Mercury Craze' from Subtle, another configuration of the Anticon rappers, is unbelivably brilliant, completely audacious and enervating. Junior Boys produced an album that was roughly 60% outstanding and 40% soporific, but 'In The Morning' may be the electronic track of the year, brilliantly produced, brimming with invention and topped off with a sweetly handled melody. Matthew Herbert's 'Scale' was a more streamlined and accessible proposition than his more maverick work on 'Plat du Jour' and 'Goodbye Swingtime', but it at least had 'Moving Like A Train', an irresistably groovy confection. Psapp perfected their 'toytronica' sound on the thrilling 'Hi'.

There were some beautifully literate songs in 2006, from some of the most dependable artists of recent times. Lambchop's Kurt Wagner continues to drift towards more elusive territory, but his lyrics retain a uniquely poetic wisdom that simply can't be found anywhere else. 'Paperback Bible told of a swap shop style radio show with quiet grace and dignity. Will Oldham was yet again a ubiquitous songwriting figure, with perhaps his greatest triumph to date being 'His Hands', a truly masterful song written for soul legend Candi Staton, and probably the single best track I heard this year. Whilst this was an intense and serious track, Sparks again proved themselves masters of playful irony with 'Baby Can I Invade Your Country?'

2006 also served to remind us of the real value in interpretation. Cover versions remain unfairly derided, and the collaboration between Bonnie 'Prince' Billy and Tortoise, particularly on their stunning refashioning of Springsteen's 'Thunder Road' as an uncertain lament, demonstrated that there can be real artistry in cover songs. Even better perhaps, Susanna and The Magical Orchestra completely reinvented the mood of Kiss' 'Crazy Crazy Nights' to the extent that it became hard to see how it could ever have been a cock rock anthem. Susanna's subtle, tender reading turned it into something incomporably serious and moving, a celebration of the party spirit, but with the lingering knowledge that these great days of youth are slipping away from us.

2006 was also memorable for the return of some iconic figures. Scritti Politti's Green Gartside should have been a real pop star, but his stagefright always caused him problems. Back with a new album that shows him at the absolute peak of his songwriting abilities, and at last performing live again, he was surely a more deserving winner of the Mercury than the Arctic Monkeys (the real contest was between Scritti and Hot Chip). 'The Boom Boom Bap' is that rare beast - a song about music that actually works brilliantly. In fact, the sound of the final verse, where Green simply reads the tracklist to the first Public Enemy album, is one of the most strangely moving sounds of the year. Another artsist to make a serious bid for a comeback was Jarvis, and whilst I still feel his album is slightly underwhelming, his download only single 'C*nts Are Still Running The World' is the sound of a very wise, if noticeably bitter man. Line of the year may well be 'They say the cream always floats to the top - well, I say, shit floats!'. Spot on sir!

Still, whilst this is by no means a damning indictment of music in 2006, the song that touched me most this year was actually recorded back in 1986 - 'Estuary Bed' from the still woefully underrated Australian band The Triffids. This melancholy song, with a tragic romantic sweep, is harmonically very simple and understated, yet all the elements combine to staggering effect, and Evil Graham Lee's steel guitar adds a sense of grandeur. Domino's repackaging of The Triffids' back catalogue should continue apace in 2007, with the outstanding 'Calenture' album scheduled as the next release.

Digging Deep

When Tom Waits last released an album, 'Real Gone' in 2004, I commented that, for all its madcap cabaret and junkyard stomp, the most striking moment may have been the vulnerable anti-war ballad that concluded the proceedings. In light of this, I wondered whether it might not be more artistically interesting for Waits to backtrack a bit and release an entire album of sensitive ballads, rather than simply repeating his bizarre musical hybrids in slight variations. With one of the CDs in the 'Orphans' 3CD set, he appears to have fulfilled my wish. The second disc, 'Bawlers' is a collection of restrained, folk-tinged, and sensitive troubadour songs. It's also quite brilliant. Despite essentially being a ragbag odds-and-sods collection (one track 'Little Drop Of Poison' originally surfaced on the soundtrack to Wim Wenders' underrated movie 'The End of Violence' as far back as 1997), it coheres remarkably, and demonstrates Waits' adherance to traditional musical forms as well as his tendencies towards the theatrical. Many of the songs are in the same barfly jazz meets musical theatre style as 'The Briar and The Rose' from Waits' music for Robert Wilson's 'Black Rider'. There are some truly superb songs here, particularly the simple, direct and moving gospel song 'Down There By The Train', with its view of a compassionate, all-inclusive religion, so different from that so often propounded by evangelical spokespeople in the media. Waits originally wrote the track for Johnny Cash's first American Recordings album, but his own version is equally committed and convincing. 'Bend Down The Branches' and 'You Can Never Hold Back Spring' are concise and haunting, with Waits stretching the melodies to draw more emotion. Even better is 'The Fall Of Troy', a powerful tale of corrupted youth which shows Waits' continuing maturation as a lyricist, a development that also bears considerable fruit on the mysterious, allusive and poetic 'Widow's Grove'.

There's also a real element of the unexpected in the form of a number of covers and interpretations. There's a languid version of The Ramones' 'Danny Says' (one of two Ramones covers on the whole set) and a superbly bawdy take on Leadbelly's blues standard 'Goodnight Irene'. Absurdly, it all ends with a spectacularly cheesy take on Sinatra's 'Young At Heart', seemingly tapping into the same well that Bob Dylan has been mining in recent years for inspiration on tracks like 'Spirit On The Water' and 'When The Deal Goes Down'.

Of the other two discs, 'Brawlers' is arguably more predictable, the bulk of it seemingly constituting of out-takes from the 'Real Gone' sessions. Much of it is blisteringly entertaining, from the hilarious Elvis impersions that liberally pepper the opening 'Lie To Me' to what sounds like another classic Waitsian sea shanty singalong on the closing 'Rains On Me'. This is in the main the most humorous of the discs, and there's plenty of joy taken in wit, wonder and wordplay. The music is also scowling and primitive, with familiar clanking percussion and the highly syncopated, avant-garde guitar technique of the masterful Marc Ribot.

The most comment-worthy song may well be 'Road To Peace', which with its lengthy narrative lambasting all sides in the Israel-Palestine conflict, has been deemed Waits' most explicitly political song to date. It's not a million miles from Steve Earle's impassioned polemics on 'The Revolution Starts Now', but it certainly stops short of some of Earle's more daring statements. Whilst the lyrics might work as narrative, they feel slightly clunky and forced as poetry, and in the end the song probably isn't the major statement Waits wanted it to be.

Again, the reinterpretations are as significant as the originals, with a take on George Khoury and Philipe Batiste's 'Sea Of Love' which is awash with intriguing and atmospheric sound, as well as an inspired refashioning of the gospel standard 'Lord I've Been Changed'.

The final disc, entitled 'Bastards', is the most contrary and challenging of the three, indulging Waits' preference for peculiar readings, beat poetry and malevolent noise. It includes his excellent version of Daniel Johnston's 'King Kong', originally recorded for the Late Great Daniel Johnston tribute collection, and other highlights include some strange new settings for the vivid and energetic prose of beat writer Jack Kerouac. It's the hardest of the discs to listen to attentively, but it repays the effort with at least modest rewards.

'Orphans' essentially does exactly what it says on the tin - as a whole, it's no masterpiece, but rather a consistently fascinating illumination of Waits' multi-faceted writing. The vocal performances are rich in variety, and Waits' delivery veers from savage guttural howl to sensitive croon. The three disc division works remarkably well, and ensures that this project comes across as something different from simply being 'another Tom Waits album'. The design and packaging of the set is also a real marvel, including the famous last words of legends as diverse as Oscar Wilde, Charles II and Haydn, historical facts and figures, and a section on 'the miseries of the great', detailing the nasty ailments afflicting various people of some stature in history. It also comes with a 94-page book detailing personnel, recording and production details, and a complete set of lyrics. Real attention and care has gone into the presentation of this set, so much so that it may even justify the expense of purchase. It's satisfying that in a stale time in the music market, where certain other groups are settling for simply repackaging their back catalogue in overpriced and uninspired 'best-ofs', Waits has rewarded his followers with an intelligently sequenced, beautifully packaged collection. We should be thankful that these orphans have now found their home.

One of the real word of mouth successes of 2006 has been 'The Trials Of Van Occupanther' by Bella Union signings Midlake. The group have been compared favourably with the likes of Flaming Lips, Grandaddy and Mercury Rev, but I detect rather more of a classic rock inspiration behind many of these songs. There are fluent but conservative guitar solos strongly reminscent of Fleetwood Mac, and the emphasis on gently plodding pianos recall early Elton John (not necessarily a bad thing). The luxurious harmonies also hint at the Crosby, Stills and Nash textbook. Much like The Decemerists, Midlake occupy their own peculiar fantasy historical universe of bandits, young brides and kings, and the listener must immerse themselves in this world to appreciate this carefully constructed record in full. It's very gentle, and rich in melody. A handful of the songs (the opening 'Roscoe', 'Van Occupanther', 'We Gathered In Spring' and 'It Covers The Hillside') do linger in the mind effectively, but overall it might just be that little bit too pleasant.

Interesting that the makers of this blog's album of the year for 2005 have now signed a major deal with the V2 label. 'Last Chance Disco' was a sustained triumph for Acoustic Ladyland because, not only did it completely reinvent their own sound, it also merged the technical and expressive world of jazz with the primitive and immediate blast of punk without resorting to contradictory impulses. Following it would inevitably be difficult. 'Skinny Grin', written and recorded it would seem with real haste, has some very impressive moments, but is a far less consistent record than its predecessor. It's impossible to know whether it is the impulse of band or label that has pushed them further in the punk/indie direction, but there is now little trace of real improvisation or spontaneous creative thinking, aside from the frequent thrashing that occasionally veers on the thoughtless. The number of vocal tracks has increased substantially, with a concurrent increase in the number of punk cliches encroaching into the music. Pete Wareham is a composer of genuine ability, but it's unlikely he'll ever be recognised as a significant lyricist.

The instrumental tracks undoubtedly fare much better, with opener 'Road Of Bones' harnessing the elemental distorted fury of classic heavy metal, and 'Your Shame' even borrowing from the Led Zeppelin book of hardened blues licks (albeit handled by Tom Herbert on fuzz bass rather than a guitarist). Best of all is 'Salt Water', featuring a guest appearance from revered punk saxophonist James Chance and included here in a version remixed by Scott Walker. It stands out because of its relentless energy and dynamism, as well as for some full blast blowing from Wareham. As always, the dependably inventive drummer Sebastian Rochford (also leader of Polar Bear and drummer for the excellent Oriole and Fulborn Teversham, amongst many other projects - where does he find the time?) manages to create the high drama dynamics of rock without compromising the sensitivity and creative thinking inherent to jazz playing. That he never resorts to blind technical virtuosity provides further evidence of his musical intelligence.

This band can certainly groove with real fire and fury, and there's no doubting their understanding of both musical traditions they draw from. This time round, however, the 'shock of the new' has dissipated and whilst they integrated their influences effectively on 'Last Chance Disco' there's an increasing sense that they are becoming a band of musicians with jazz chops playing punk rock. It's not clear how long that can remain a diverting prospect.

Choppy Waters

A Brief Report From the London Jazz Festival

We Londoners all like to moan at every available opportunity. We hate the tube and its endless delays and 'planned engineering work' (just because it's planned doesn't make it any less inconvenient, does it?), we hate the dirt and the smoke, we hate the crowds and the relentless rush to be somewhere. Yet, honestly, when London does things well, it remains one of the best cities in the world to live in and experience. Over a period of years, the London Jazz Festival has slowly been cultivating a major reputation, attracting big name acts whilst helping to promote promising local talent. This year, it had the biggest, most star-studded line-up yet. I'm already regretting not booking a ticket to see EST and Polar Bear, a mistake as it must have been one of the highlights of the festival. Still, I can't complain when I got to see a plethora of excellent concerts, some of which came at almost no cost to myself!

First up was an intriguing double bill featuring the Stan Tracey Trio and the Wayne Shorter Quartet. Tracey is justly a legendary figure in British jazz history, and astoundingly has just celebrated his 80th birthday. The set was a polite, somewhat limited trio performance which took few risks and certainly broke no new boundaries. Tracey's unique style has, if anything, become more pronounced with age, and there were a few times when his accompaniment felt a little clunky. Still, the compositions were simple but effective, and the rhythm section swung nicely.

Wayne Shorter's set could hardly have been more different. With Brian Blade kicking up all manner of storm and fury on the drums, Danilo Perez and John Patitucci were left the unenviable task of holding this free-flowing, rather abstract music together, something they handled with characteristic skill and vision. The performance was incredibly intense, and occasionally brimming with genuine invention - but it also felt tetchy and wilfully unpredictable. Whilst the pieces all seemed composed rather than freely improvised, it was immensely difficult to determine what had actually been written down, and melody was certainly made to take a back seat to individual expression. Shorter himself kept switching between soprano and tenor, occasionally even bending his less than supple body to whistle into the microphone, to little more than slightly comic impact. The pieces were long, but packed full of ideas rarely given enough space to develop, and sometimes I simply longed for Blade to lock in with Patitucci's wonderfully rhythmic bass playing. It is, however, amazing that Shorter continues to reinvent himself, never content to repeat or trade on past achievements.....

....Unlike, say, Herbie Hancock, who put in a set at The Roundhouse on Saturday that was in part an unabashed crowd-pleaser, but also demonstrated some of the peculiar judgment that has dogged the latter stages of this great musician's career. His playing remains little short of astounding and he may still be the best piano accompanist in jazz. His solos also still seem largely effortless and inventive. They contrast effectively with the spirited playing of guitarist Lionel Loueke, who clearly has little respect for genre boundaries or polite conventions. His brief solo spot was one of the highlights of the show. Yet, there were too many things wrong with this performance for it to be truly worthy of someone of Hancock's status. The rhythm section of Nathan East and Vinnie Colaiuta are technically proficient, highly gifted musicians, but also relentlessly heavy and a little lacking in soul or feeling. As such, the performances of Headhunters-era classics 'Watermelon Man' and 'Chameleon', whilst lengthy and driving, lacked the subtlety provided by original drummer Harvey Mason. The insistence on performing a handful of tracks from last year's ghastly 'Possibilities' album (featuring the likes of Christina Aguilera, John Mayer and Paul Simon, and apparently representing Hancock's aspirations for the world) also undermined the flow and quality of the show. I would have preferred a more challenging and affecting ballad than the insipid and protracted arrangement of Stevie Wonder's artistic nadir 'I Just Called To Say I Love You'. None of us had really come to hear Nathan East sing after all! Perhaps I'm being too conservative, but I felt Hancock sounded most comfortable and expressive when at the acoustic or electric piano - the electric keytar just sounded stilted, whilst the novelty synth pads immediately damned most of the material with a dated '80s atmosphere. There were moments to tresure for sure, particularly on a rousing 'Canteloupe Island', but it was a difficult set to get through.

Cassandra Wilson started ominously, with similar cod-ethnic synth playing and mock-atmospherics. Her band soon picked up though, with some controlled playing from the rhythm section and benefiting greatly from a harmonica player, whose improvising proved consistently stimulating. Still, the version of Cyndi Lauper's 'Time Out Of Time' (already more famously jazzed up by Miles Davis in the 80s) was soporific, never breaking out of its rigidly enforced ambience. A gritty take on a Willie Dixon tune soon livened things up, and from that point onwards, Wilson demonstrated her passion and genuine feel for the blues. A moron in the crowd still insisted on making unnecessary demands for a standard, to which Wilson obliged with pointed humour. The concert was at its most exciting when closely in touch with the traditions of New Orleans and the Mississipi Delta, and a fine drum solo also helped raise the spirit.

The two gigs I caught on the closing weekend were on a completely different level. The 60th birthday concert for Dave Holland was one of the finest jazz performances I've seen in years. Opening with a brief trio set with Jim Hall and Kenny Wheeler, the three old-timers playing what appeared to be a spirited and perhaps unrehearsed set of consistently excellent compositions. Wheeler took a while to warm up, fluffing his own composition and sounding slightly out of tune. Once in the zone though, he still has merciless control and a rich, beautiful sound. Even in his eighties, Jim Hall still sounds effortlessly fluent in the language of the guitar, his playing elegiac and mellifluous throughout, more than appropriate for the trio setting. Holland, a superb bandleader, held everything together with sturdy precision. The set from the Dave Holland quintet was undermined slightly by the absence of Steve Nelson, who usually plays vibraphone and marimba for the group. Instead, we get Jason Moran on the piano, and an inevitably more conventional approach. Mercifully, this didn't matter too much - Moran's soloing was outstanding, and he left plenty of space for the rest of the band, a good tactic, as trombonist Robin Eubanks and unstoppable saxophonist Chris Potter frequently need it! Opening with a remarkably crisp 'Prime Directive', during which Potter and Eubanks initiated the thrilling trading of licks which characterised the whole concert. Nate Smith, relatively new to the band having replaced the outstanding Billy Kilson, proved himself just as gifted as his predecessor, grooving hard with superb time, and relishing the opportunity to play the unconventional rhythms which Holland's compositions demand. His solo toward the end displayed not just technical virtuosity, but also some real success in conveying musical and meaningful ideas from the drum kit, actually orchestrating and arranging a solo, rather than just showing off his abilities. It was hugely fascinating to watch. The main body of the set focussed on the excellent new 'Critical Mass' album, and was democratic in allowing Eubanks and Smith to have their compositions performed in addition to Holland's. They basically emulate his style, although with great success on this new release. The improvising was lengthy, with bucketloads of energy and enthusiasm, not least from the extraordinary Potter, who played his furious notes with fiery passion. The infectiousness and accessibility inherent in Holland's melodies contrasted brilliantly with all the exuberant improvising, and many of the compositions are as memorable and hummable as pop songs. Anyone who can compose music that is so musically and technically audacious, but also so immediately appealing, must be on to something good.

The final show came from label-mates at Dune, Soweto Kinch and Abram Wilson. Wilson's opening set was surprisingly long, showcasing what must have been the entirety of his new concept album, telling the story of troubled musician Albert Jenkins, his experiences in hybrid hip hop/jazz big band The Outsiders and his family trauma against the backdrop of New Orleans musical history. What a vibrant and exciting mix of styles and ideas this was - and so refreshing to hear someone reinvent the big band with such verve and tenacity. The music was characterised mostly by its driving rhythms and deep rooted connection with gospel and the blues, with Wilson a commanding presence both when performing long, rapidly flowing lines on the trumpet and when singing with gritty integrity. He is an intense and serious performer, and rarely ever smiles - but it certainly seemed like the whole band was enjoying bringing this intriguing music to life.

Soweto Kinch played much the same show he delivered at his album launch at Cargo a few months ago, but with the added bonus of the extraordinary Troy Miller returning to the drum set. Miller is one of the best young players in Britain, with real natural feel and completely unique invention. He sounds as comfortable playing tightly controlled hip hop grooves as he does when swinging beautifully, which again begs the question of why Kinch elected to programme drum beats on the recorded versions of the hip hop tracks. As a result, his intelligent and articulate concept album about lives in the tower blocks of B19 in Birmingham really comes to life in live performance, especially as Kinch is a shamelessly brilliant entertainer. He has brought this music to a young and attentive audience, and they seem to value the attacking soloing as much as the witty wordplay. This show sounded less tentative and more comfortable than the Cargo performance. Kinch continues to get better and better - the second part of his new project gets released next year, and I'm looking forward to it already!

Sublime or Ridiculous?

Lots of albums to write about, I've been building up quite a backlog over the last couple of months. I'll try and be brief, but I'm not very good at being concise!

It's good to see that the ever-prolific Jason Molina is showing no signs of slowing his work rate. There's a new limited edition solo album called 'Let Me Go, Let Me Go, Let Me Go', which I haven't heard yet, but I understand is stylistically similar to the intense, stark minimalism of his Pyramid Electric Co. set. In addition to this, there's another new Magnolia Electric Co. collection. 'Fading Trails' isn't actually intended as a new album proper, but rather a compilation of tracks from a handful of sessions for various projects. There are two new full lengths scheduled for release in 2007 ('Nashville Moon' and 'Black Ram'), from which some of these selections are drawn (presumably in alternate takes), and the album also features selections from the 'lost' 'Shohola' album, much talked about among Magnolia cognoscenti. Unfortunately, the inlay is at best perfunctory, and gives no information as to which tracks come from which sessions. It's difficult to make an informed judgement then as to the progression or development of the band's sound, although much of this sounds like a continuation of the more accessible, but no less impressive country rock of last year's 'What Comes After The Blues'. Molina's voice continues to strengthen, and it's now hard to believe he was ever dismissed as a Will Oldham copyist. As Molina's melodic sense has developed, it's arguable that some of the mystery and illusion of the Songs:Ohia work has been lost, but it's been replaced by a carefully attuned and sensitive songcraft, and with a vocal presence that sounds equally comfortable on rockers such as 'Don't Fade On Me', or more abstract pieces such as 'The Old Horizon'. Best of all is when melody and arrangement are kept decidedly simple, and combine to great effect, such as on the stunning 'Talk to Me Devil, Again'. For the best introduction to Molina's work, I'd still recommend the double whammy of Songs:Ohia's 'Didn't It Rain' and 'Magnolia Electric Co.' albums, but this is an excellent summation of the space Molina has been occupying for the past couple of years. It's just a shame that it doesn't give too many pointers toward the next step.

Hot on the heels of last year's promising 'Picaresque', there's yet another new album from The Decemberists. Given their manifest influences drawn from both the English and Irish folk traditions, it's hard to comprehend why this excellent band haven't been given more attention in this country, especially as their releases are now widely available via the Rough Trade label. 'The Crane Wife' certainly rewards repeated listens, and is steadily worming its way into the upper reaches of my albums of the year. It's easily their most coherent work, in which they have widened their sonic armoury without compromising their inherent strangeness. The lyrics remain preoccupied with history and folklore, bloodshed and violence, and there's a thematic harmony to 'The Crane Wife' that makes it work best as a conceptual song cycle. This notion is supported by the album's sequencing, starting as it does at the end, with a lushly romantic part 3 of the title track, with parts 1 and 2 placed in the latter stages of the sequence. You'll need a high tolerance for whimsy (it's whimsical more than twee), and Colin Meloy's fey vocals may be something of an acquired taste. Whilst it's sometimes tempting to proclaim that these are people who have never been in civil wars or murdered fair maidens (at least I hope not...), it's worth noting just how successfully they have crafted their own singular vision here. There's now more than enough musical drama to match the extravagant pitch of some of the lyrics, particularly on the grandiose medley that makes up 'The Island', a track that manages to incorporate a Crazy Horse-esque swampy groove, Canterbury folk style pluckings, and even a slight borrowing from the more inventive offerings of The Doors. The band also now seem capable of drawing intrigue and sophistication from the bare minimum of constituent parts. 'The Perfect Crime #2' mostly sits on one chord, but drives along relentlessly with a rhythmic sophistication worthy of Talking Heads. 'When The War Came' is the loudest they've yet been, a clamouring surprise with brilliantly sustained intensity. They can also be genuinely anthemic, and 'O Valencia' is a gorgeous sugar rush of romantic pop brilliance, whilst parts 1 and 2 of the title track are richly melodic. This album is something of a triumph - already missing from Uncut's premature review of the year, will it be noticed by anyone else outside the blogosphere?

Another superb record I have to thank the blogosphere for (most specifically the excellent really rather blog - http://www.reallyrather.blogspot.com) is 'Precis' from the mysterious Benoit Pioulard. It's widely available here on Kranky records, but seems to have had no attention from the UK press whatsoever (until this month's Plan B magazine anyway, there's a track on the cover mount CD). I simply would not have heard about it without resourceful and independently minded internet writers! The album is another bedroom recorded kitchen sink fantasia, with an unusual tapestry of sound that defies categorisation. As such, it's a bit fatuous to make comparisons, but there's something of the fractured psychedelia of Animal Collective and Ariel Pink here somewhere. The lyrics are frequently rendered obscure by the recording process and by the deployed effects, but this doesn't prevent emotional connection with the music, as the overall effect is warm and enveloping. In fact, it frequently verges on the mesmeric or slightly sinister as a result, with a similar impact to Boards of Canada at their best. It all holds together beautifully, and is pleasantly concise, leaving at least this listener wanting a whole lot more.

I desperately want to join the Observer Music Monthly in hailing Jarvis Cocker's first solo album as an instant classic. It's not, but don't let that put you off. If anything, it's even more dour than Pulp's final two albums and those who, like me, admire those albums and feel them deeply underrated (surely the recent reissues provided a real opportunity to at least reassess 'This Is Hardcore'), should find plenty to revel in here. If there's a problem, it's simply that there's a little too much at one pace here - it starts off doggedly plodding (although not in a bad way), and ends up slower than it began! Only the characteristically sharp and caustic 'Fat Children' breaks the mood, although it's a little harsh and simplistic musically. 'Don't Let Him Waste Your Time' demonstrates that Jarvis hasn't lost his touch for a simple but effective melody - a shame therefore that he elected to accompany it with an outrageous piece of plagiarism. Those familiar with Dion's 'Born To Be With You' album will recognise the song's backing instantly. We'll call it an homage - at least it faithfully captures the classic Phil Spector sound. 'Black Magic' pulls off a similar trick, albeit with more originality, and its vigorous drama is impressive. Elsewhere, 'Baby's Coming Back To Me', originally written for Nancy Sinatra, is compellingly arranged, whilst 'From Auschwitz To Ipswich' probably represents the most effective coupling of lyrical invention and melodic sensibility on the album. There are some superb lines: 'You don't have to set the world to rights, but you can stop being wrong' from 'Tonight' and the delightful image of apocalypse in 'From Auschwitz...' ('Not one single soul was saved/I was ordering an Indian takeaway') stick in the mind particularly, along with the pointed denounciation of Asbo culture in 'Fat Children'. The piano ballad with a twist, 'I Will Kill Again' (surely Morrissey must have already bagged that title?) is a crisp portrayal of the evil that lurks in ordinary people. Where I can't agree with most critics is that the album hits its stride at the end - 'Big Julie' is dynamic enough, but I can't help feeling that its lyrical territory is really traversing any new ground. The closing 'Quantum Theory' is a little elusive, and it's concluding lines proclaiming 'everything will be all right' can't help but feel a little banal in light of what has come before. It's also hard to resist the notion that 'C*nts Are Still Running The World', saved for a secret track some thirty minutes after the end of the album proper, is the pithiest and most necessary statement here. It is, however, more than enough, that Jarvis remains our most relevant and essential pop commentator. It seems shameful that he has been allowed to sink back into indie outsiderdom when he really should be a perfect pop star.

Is there anyone on the planet not currently salivating over the 'genius' of Joanna Newsom? Her new album 'Ys' (apparently pronounced Ees) has received more column inches than an artist of her relative obscurity might usually merit. In some ways, this is encouraging, and it would be gratifying to see the mainstream media take more risks with challenging and uncompromising material. It's possible that I like the idea of this record more than the reality - it's great to have a harpist in pop music, isn't it? You can't argue with that, neither can you really argue with a work whose supporting cast includes Van Dyke Parks (who provided the lavish, occasionally intrusive orchestrations), Steve Albini and Jim O' Rourke. It's a dream team! It's also hard for a former Medieval Historian to resist an album which is packaged with a CD inlay replicating an antique book, complete with ornate scripts and gold leaf, and where the artist appears in strange medieval garb on the cover. 'Ys' contains only five tracks, but they are bloody long, and there's barely a minute when Newsom isn't singing. She has composed some dense, wordy and allusive prose-poetry for the lyrics (incorporating words such as 'hydrocephalitic', 'mica-spangled', 'spelunking' and 'asterisms' in bizarre and perhaps inappropriate contexts). She deploys alliteration wilfully, and it's a matter for debate as to whether this makes for beautifully flowing verse, or something more clunky and forced ('Then the slow lip of fire moves across the prairie with precision/while, somewhere, with your pliers and glue you make your first incision/And in a moment of unbearable vision/doubled over with the hunger of lions/Hold me close, cooed the dove/who was stuffed, now, with sawdust and diamonds.'). Her voice is certainly quirky to say the least. At its most restrained, it is an impressive instrument, but when she squeals like a strangulated cat, she can sound horribly mannered, as if from the same faux-kooky planet as the ghastly Devendra Banhart. The opening 'Emily' is the track that works best, and where the orchestrations combine with the basic melodic template most comfortably. Like the other songs here, it's very linear, and Newsom takes us on a peculiarly compelling journey through a strangely romantic landscape. The most difficult track is 'Only Skin', where she is unadorned by the orchestrations, which do serve to detract from the harsher realities of her voice. There's definitely an ambitious and singular talent at work here - and the defiant rejection of conventional structure in these songs is admirable. Newsom is making a genuine attempt to reinvent the wheel, and she has achieved some degree of success here. I'm just not convinced this is fully fledged genius yet. It's when she makes a record this wild and unhinged that actually demands repeated listens that she will have reached her full potential.

Another record not to have received enough press attention in recent months is 'Roots and Crowns' from the dependably magnificent Califone. This is their most accessible record yet, but one which still displays a genre-crossing ambition and sonic invention worthy of kindred spirits like TV On The Radio. 'Roots and Crowns' has all the elements of great music - a strong connection with the blues and the American folk tradition, carefully constructed harmonies, turbulent, twisting rhythms and a wildly unpredictable set of electronic interventions. It somehow all hangs together, and production trickery is used with subtlety and dexterity. Underpinning it all is Tim Rutili's delightfully wistful vocal and superb songwriting. I particularly admire the combination of Brian Wilson-esque lush harmony and Tom Waits-esque clattering on the majestic 'Spider's House' or the atmospheric mystery of 'The Eye You Lost In The Crusades' and 'Our Kitten Sees Ghosts' (some of the song titles are worth the price of admission alone). The mastery of these songs became more readily apparent when hearing them performed by just two members of the band's shifting line-up at The Windmill in Brixton last month - the melodies stand up even when the accompaniment is stripped back to acoustic guitar and countrified fiddle. The album itself takes a while to lodge itself in the mind but, once there, it becomes something far more than the sum of its impressive parts. It's a dazzling and intoxicating concoction.

Subtle is yet another project from the various members of the Anticon Collective (Clouddead etc), although this time released with the full backing of EMI (who, with Hot Chip also on their roster, seem to be taking more calculated risks than most of the independents these days). Anyone who has so far been agnostic about Doseone's superficially dazzling but ultimately meaningless stream of consciousness rapping might at least note that 'For Hero: For Fool' provides the most complementary foil so far for his verbal torrents. The music rarely settles, instead constantly shifting between rock and disco influenced sounds (occasionally it sounds most like 80s R 'n' B pioneers like Cameo). This restlessness might be irritating from any other group - but it at last helps Doseone's extravagant wordplay make some kind of sense. This is a far better match than Dose's other rock group, 13 & God (with members of The Notwist), that sounds positively conventional by comparison. This is a rare example of where tetchy musicality and a refusal to define a coherent sound can actually reap extraordinary rewards. Whilst this album is certainly challenging, it's also ceaselessly thrilling.

Stephin Merritt's imagination continues to work overtime. Not content with already having released the wonderful collection of his work for musical theatre on 'Showtunes' this year, he now resurrects another of his many pseudonyms The Gothic Archies. 'The Tragic Treasury' comprises a series of songs composed to accompany audio versions of the Lemony Snicket books for young children. I've not read the books but even with limited knowledge it's hard to imagine a better way for Merritt to apply his splendid wit. He has traversed adult territory with a childlike candour and playfulness with The Magnetic Fields and Future Bible Heroes, veiling his songs in so many layers of irony that it doesn't matter one jot whether they are ironic or not. Musically, this covers little new ground for Merritt, sticking with the gleeful marriage of the acoustic, the synthetic and the unfathomably infectious. His dry humour is in overdrive though, as he unpicks the books' array of weird and wonderful characters. He also has a keen eye for the child's attraction to risk, and the warning of 'The World Is A Very Scary Place' makes for one of his best songs. This album certainly captures the dark side of fantasy in its more peculiar moments ('The Abyss' , 'A Million Mushrooms'), but it's also wildly funny ('I go gray, then bald with chagrin/When you play the violin/How I pray for death to begin/when you play the violin') and even characteristically camp ('Have you no dignity?/Have you no sense of style?/You'll never be pretty until you smile!'). Some have questioned whether Merritt's music will actually appeal to children - I think there are numerous pleasures here for child and adult alike.

If it's not too embarrassing, can I also confess that I might actually quite like the My Chemical Romance album? Combining the grossly simplistic but brutally effective pop-punk of Green Day with the bombast of Queen is an idea so utterly absurd that it ultimately deserves a modicum of respect. This is an indulgent, over-produced, ludicrous extravagance of a record and it's concept (something to do with a dying man) is more than a little silly. Still, there's something inherently compelling about its pomp and majesty. I'll get me coat....

On that bombshell, I need some sleep, but stay tuned next week for some more reviews and some comments on this year's London Jazz Festival.

Another Report From The London Film Festival

The Alternative Closing Night Gala

Yep that's right, whilst some muppets headed in the direction of Leicester Square for the Closing Night Gala screening of Babel (and if Inarritu's previous, horribly overrated work is anything to go by, this will be a tedious, self-satisfied and dour experience), I headed to the NFT (soon to be rebranded as BFI Southbank) for two weird and wonderful films on the last night of the festival. Both, in slightly differing ways, reminded me a little of the recent work of Korea's Kim Ki-Duk, particularly 3 - Iron and Spring, Summer, Autumn Winter...and Spring. No bad thing.

First up was Tsai Ming-Liang's I Don't Want To Sleep Alone, a defiantly dreamy and mysterious mood piece that I found completely enthralling. The slow pace is tricky initially, and I'm not sure British audiences will be all that easily prepared to yield to it. Indeed, about 20 minutes in, there was a mass exodus from the cinema. Only one of Tsai's last five films has received any kind of significant cinematic distribution in the UK (Goodbye, Dragon Inn). Even accounting for this, it astounds me that people pay inflated festival prices to see movies having done no background research on the director. Tsai is an auteur with a very singular style that requires some patience on the part of the audience. This film contains virtually no dialogue, and instead unfolds in long, wordless sequences that emphasise the physical and erotic tensions between the characters. It's a technique completely alien to western audiences - and this film has a unique intimacy and peculiar force all of its own. In places, it's also very funny, which will do much to stifle any accusations of pretentiousness that Tsai may well be placed with. Much of the language comes from the frequent interjection of songs - either captured on radios or performed by street musicians. They all serve to enhance the opaque but haunting mood of the images.

The film is essentially a visual musing on the nature of physical desire, and, perhaps more controversially, the erotic associations implicit in acts of care. A homeless man is beaten to a pulp by a criminal gang demanding money, and is eventually helped out, and offered half of an old mattress, by a member of a group of immigrant workers. The two men sleep next to each other chastely, but a number of carefully filmed scenes depict the physical and emotional tensions between them. Meanwhile, a parallel story unfolds whereby a young woman cares for the paralysed son of a cafe owner. She is humiliated by her domineering female boss. As he recovers, the homeless character of the other story becomes intimately involved with both women, and torn between them and his chaste relationship with his own carer. As a toxic heat haze descends on the city, all three characters begin to give way to their desires and the results are strangely compelling.

I Don't Want To Sleep Alone is Tsai's first film to be produced in his native Malaysia (previously he has worked in Taiwan, effectively in exile). The use of location is masterful, from the cafe to the extraordinary abandoned factory flooded with water. The photography is consistently enthralling, and the final sequences have a rapturous quality unlike anything else I've seen in recent years. Some will no doubt react adversely to Tsai's uncompromising high-mindedness, but I found this to be a bold, beautiful and intelligently provocative work from a modern master.

Zhang Ke Jia's Still Life was a last minute addition to the festival, and surprise winner of the Golden Lion at this year's Venice Film Festival. It's safe to say that this film relies a lot more on conventional narrative and characterisation than Tsai's film, but it still has a surreal strangeness and glacial pace unusual for western audiences. It also interweaves two stories, although not as explicitly. Set in the village of Fengjie (now demolished) on the site of the extraordinary Three Gorges Dam (the world's largest Hydroelectric project), it tells the story of two characters returning to the city looking for loved ones. A man is looking for his wife and child, neither of whom he has seen in the last 16 years, whilst a woman arrives looking for her husband, although it is some time before we appreciate her motive.

Whilst the film certainly achieves some emotional impact from their stories (although some may be more bemused by the dry, almost deadpan nature of the performances), it is less about plot than theme and mood. Zhang's greatest success in this picture is to capture the strange atmosphere of a place being demolished to make way for man-made floods, with all the confusion and transitory sensations that arise from forced relocation. There are two very bizarre scenes - one in which the two main characters see a UFO fly through the valley (is this purely to give some sense that their experiences are linked?), and another where a superimposed spaceship appears to blast off entirely unexpectedly. I'm not sure these sequences added very much, although I appreciated the final surrealist image of a man walking a tightrope between two high buildiings a good deal more, as this seemed to symbolise the precarious nature of the local lives of this region more effectively. It's ultimately a straightforward, if inclonclusive work, although its masterful handling of time and place, landscape and atmosphere, adds considerable weight and impact. Again, like Tsai's film, the intervention of music is significant - in this case some spectacularly cheesy Chinese pop music, with a romantic lyricism that seems peculiarly intoxicating. The Venice award should mean it gets full UK distribution next year, which is good news for anyone prepared to look beyond the ordinary for their cinematic fixes.