release - swans - my father will guide me up a rope to the sky

type: album

released: 23rd september 2010

label: young god

genre: no wave, noise rock, post-punk, folk, ambient

It could be argued that there was no call for this album to be made, as the last one under the Swans banner happened 14 years ago, and founder Michael Gira has been recording albums pretty much every two years since then with strongly neofolk directions under Angels of Light. Jarboe, who shared songwriting duties for over a decade is nowhere to be seen.

After the announcement of the so-called reactivation of Swans in January this year, certain questions had to be asked. Is it simply a way for an ageing musician to make money from a now-revered name? Is that an inherently bad thing? Perhaps more importantly, is it worse to reunite for the money alone and never enter the studio again - something we've seen a lot of in recent years - or to record another album and risk tarnishing the brand? It's clear that Gira is taking a risk here: the funding for the recording was found largely through Gira's limited run solo album and live DVD I Am Not Insane released earlier this year, many of the songs later appearing on this album. So if this isn't totally Swans, rest assured that it is sincere.

Here we have assorted members of Angels of Light, Norman Westberg from the original Swans lineup and a few wildcards, including Devendra Banhart and Mercury Rev's Grasshopper backing Gira up. But can it really work? How could this be a worthy successor to Soundtracks for the Blind, which totalled well over two hours across two discs, or even going-out live album Swans are Dead, with its bruising, tortuous opener Feel Happiness?

Opener No Words/No Thoughts begins with some rather ominous chimes followed by a bit of proverbial muscle-flexing of the kick drum and cymbals. It stands at a comparably tame nine and a half minutes, but it rocks as hard in that time as anything they've done. And what's more, it tells us that Gira is fully in the Swans mindset and fully in command of his band, their screeching guitars and pounding drums setting out sonic caverns for Gira to fill with his baritone diatribes, which hit as hard as ever. It's a lot to take in on the first listen, but it's probably the most exciting thing on here.

Reeling the Liars In is bluesy and folky and funereal, sounding much closer to the Angels of Light end of the spectrum, and it memorable for its damning lyrics. The rest of the album fits somewhere between these first two polar opposites and standouts. Inside Madeline even seems to cover the ground of both in a single span. You Fucking People Make Me Sick may have an ugly title and some novel playing of the piano but it's a beautiful song, featuring neo-hippie and New Weird Annoyance Devendra Banhart on vocals. My Birth has a punk vibe that recalls some of the more lo-fi Swans recordings of the 80s, while Eden Prison has a noisy crescendo that wouldn't have anything like as much impact if it had been attempted with those earlier recording techniques. Little Mouth is another folk song, both haunting and cinematic, and ending on Gira's dark voice alone to close the album. But as the backing band fade away and become irrelevant again we have to remind ourselves that this really is Swans.

So we have a brooding and schizophrenic album that, while showcasing a variety of sounds and styles that Gira has picked up over a career spanning four decades, is actually quite consistent in quality. It doesn't sit up there with the best of Swans' material, which at its height felt like a shocking burst of raw anger, but it has energy, and if its sole purpose is to set the band up with a great collection of songs to play later this year, then it's done a fine job.

Swans - You Fucking People Make Me Sick

event - jens lekman at the deaf institute, manchester

2nd august

Bill Wells warms up the earlybirds here tonight, playing a few low-key piano numbers backed up by the jazzier players from Jens' own band. This Falkirk-born composer is later introduced as a good friend, but their music couldn't be more different emotionally. These are mournful pieces, lying somewhere between Angelo Badalamenti and Miles Davis' slower side. It's interesting to see this side of a man who's later going to be playing piano for songs like Sipping on the Sweet Nectar, but it's over after about twenty five minutes and before the sold out venue even makes it to half capacity.

An introductory a capella is then given by Khaela Maricich of The Blow to a perplexed audience, the first of many bizarre moves in a set that touches on performance art, cabaret, celebrity gossip and even striptease, all delivered with a knowing sense of awkwardness. It could be a hint of strangeness to come, or maybe even a suggestion that she feels very much like an artist working alone. Maricich was formerly one half of a duo, but Jona Bechtolt has now left to focus on his own musical and mixed media project YACHT, leaving Maricich as the sole stage presence, supported only by her touring sound engineer. Her slices of electronic pop and bouts of wilfully obscure dancing are interspersed with soundbites from a gradually unfolding narrative, guiding this sense of abandonment and twisted comedy. There was a collaborator - an actress, a tabloid princess and a friend based in New York - who fell in love with a woman. She wanted to come out with a statement, which was to be a pop album declaring her lesbian love. The one to write this album was none other than the woman standing here in front of us, but this friend got dumped and the album was called off. So here she is, performing a few of her older songs like highlight Parentheses, but for the most part playing songs written for another to sing but no longer wanted, taking the time to explain how it all happened. There is the occasional break from character: "Or I could just be making it all up. Let's hope for the sake of this next song that I'm making it up." When she finally leaves the stage we are left grateful that such a strange combination of events led us to this unique performance, this wild combination of storytelling, dancing, on-stage costume changing and gorgeous art pop. Most of all, we are glad that Lindsay Lohan got dumped.

Jens' first song is a new one explaining his choice of jewellery, a golden key worn around his neck. It is sentimental and affectionate, and it sets a

romantic mood for the evening in a room filled with couples. However, romance with Jens Lekman is never straightforward, and the next song, poppy The Opposite of Hallelujah gets a great reaction during the repeated lines 'you don't know what I'm going through'. It also shows us how well his live band can assist him in the quiet ballads, but also turn it up when they need to. Just like The Blow before him, he seems at ease in engaging the crowd, making jokes about living in Melbourne and about the lack of response for his mailing list requests for residents of Dublin to come out partying. The the subject of his relocation to Australia is used subtly and then not so subtly as an introduction to another new song currently titled An Argument With Myself, in which two sides of Jens Lekman debate his life choices, one even resorting to playground violence ("stop hitting yourself, stop hitting yourself", complete with actions). What we have here is a man clearly in his element and enjoying himself, but also able to command an incredibly tight band of synths, piano, accordion, drums and saxophone, that can really do justice to his sample-heavy last album Night Falls Over Kortedala. This is exemplified in his casual mid-song cue for a sax solo, which takes us into the jazziest interlude of the whole set. A highlight is new

single The End of the World is Bigger than Love, which he introduces perfectly: "This song's about putting things into perspective, which is something you have to do a lot when you're Jens Lekman". He's clearly having a great time, and comes out for a second encore on his own, playing an acoustic Pocketful of Money and repeating its refrain "I'll come running with a heart on fire" to its absurd logical conclusion. When that's finally over, about an hour and a half after he first came on stage, he says he needs to get some fresh air, but also wants to play some more songs, and invites the audience to 'go somewhere' with him. What happens next is history - a five song acoustic set and singalong at nearby Sand Bar to about thirty five dedicated followers, culminating in general conversation and fun for a long time to come. A true entertainer and a true gentleman.

Jens Lekman - The End of the World is Bigger than Love

event - toro y moi at the deaf institute, manchester

30th july

Tonight South Carolina musician Chaz Bundick made his debut appearance in Manchester, on just about the rainiest day we've had all summer. He records under the name Toro y Moi, which means something like 'Bull and Me' in Spanish and French, and released album Causers of This earlier this year. Unlike his wilfully obscure moniker, however, the album is a collection of soulful pop songs with a funky edge, albeit soaked in dreamy reverb and recorded under the most stringent of lo-fi instructions. New single 'Leave Everywhere' ditches the synths for jagged guitar hooks, reminding us of his punkier musical past and suggesting a possible direction for the second of his albums allegedly set for release this year.

First act on stage is worriedaboutsatan, who play moody electronica that builds up a dark, hypnotic intensity with layer after layer of drum beats, spoken word samples, and bowed guitars. Joint members Gavin Miller and

Tom Ragsdale prefer not to face the crowd but rather each other, directing the music with a chemistry that recalls Fuck Buttons but without an enormous table to separate them they manage to convey a real intimacy. There are no real pauses between songs (but people applaud in the quiet sections anyway), so the final minutes of their time on stage have a climactic feel that makes you think they could do great things with a bit longer than half an hour.

Next up are Manchester/London act D/R/U/G/S, another duo with a similar but guitarless setup. They face the audience, casually inviting them to prepare for the headline act with a much dancier electronica than worriedaboutsatan, even bringing in house elements. Sometimes the samples and beats work together perfectly and the end result is enlightened euphoria, but at times it sounds like disaffected disco, which is a shame because they do look like they're having a lot of fun. Expect bigger things.

Chaz walks on stage to cheers at about 10pm and greets the crowd, which has doubled in numbers over the past ten minutes. There is no messing about and, complete with bassist and drummer, he launches into the first two (and two of the best) songs from the album, Blessa and

Minors. Already two of the most production-heavy in his catalogue, he seems to overdo it with the volume levels apparently turned up to full, sadly forgetting the distinctive vocal melodies. Perhaps this is to do with the fact that he's only been with the band for a few months - and the other members do seem slightly nervous -, but it's no great shame as things move swiftly on to some of the funkier album tracks, which work really well live and get the crowd moving. There is never a total feeling of excitement or engagement, but that's not what this music is about. Instead we are taken by Chaz, in his own laid back and smiling way, on a journey into his world of dreams and vagueness. There is no focus because this is a performance out of focus, except perhaps for closer 'Low Shoulder', with its clear vocals over a funky but not overwhelming backdrop giving us a moment of real beauty. Rising to fame with an arguably gimmicky name and friends in high places, this is a man who nevertheless promises to outlast his contemporaries.

Gold Panda - You (worriedaboutsatan remix)

D/R/U/G/S - Love/Lust (darkmixx)

Toro y Moi - Leave Everywhere

event - tramlines festival 2010, sheffield city centre

23rd-25th july

Last weekend saw the second edition of Sheffield's free summer festival Tramlines with 250 acts playing over 50 venues of all shapes and sizes, from the 8,000-capacity Devonshire Green stage (complete with fairground) to something called The Rude Shipyard and a world music stage. It was really friendly and well organised, last year's wristbands being abandoned for a more relaxed first come first served – and in most cases all served – system.

Only going down for the Sunday, we managed to see a few of the bigger acts, starting with Leeds' Grammatics at The New Music stage outside the City Hall. They played a charming set, with Owen Brinley singing sweetly from under a kneelength navy coat and thanking the crowd 'very much' between songs. They played a few from the upcoming Krupt EP and finished with a rousing version of Relentless Fours, bringing out a token moshpit from the young crowd in its final fret-thrashing minutes. There was a slighty sour taste with the announcement afterwards that this was to be one of Grammatics' final shows, and that they've decided to call it a day. You can help them on their way out over at Pledge Music, as they're offering up limited editions of the EP, their own guitars and even the chance to have them do an acoustic set in your back garden.

Next up were Rolo Tomassi, Sheffield's own practitioners of punk jazz mathcore, who were curating this Drowned In Sound-bannered stage and who played last year. The boxy tent complete with city hall didn't quite seem fitting for them, but singer Eva Spence's howling, frantic movements and constant demands for a circle pit were enough to keep an expectant hometown audience fairly busy.

With that we headed over to Devonshire Green to catch headliners Echo & The Bunnymen, who were absolutely tight even if Ian McCulloch wasn't 100% fit to perform. The crowd came alive for the one-two punches of Seven Seas and Bring on the Dancing Horses, and The Killing Moon and The Cutter respectively, with the latter closing the set. It was only during the encore however, when they were joined on stage by Richard Hawley for a cover of The Velvet Underground's I'm Waiting For My Man, that the feeling of a daytime picnic was lost amid people of all generations dancing ecstatically.

Next we made our way to the university area for Three Trapped Tigers in The Foundry, the music venue of the Students' Union. Proceedings up until now had run impressively smoothly for a free festival, so it was with an obliging sense of disappointment that we read the stage times: "Three Trapped Tigers (solo performance due to illness)". Apparently it was a dodgy Chinese that finished off the other two, but we made do with our solitary trapped tiger, who did his best to engage the audience, debuting songs written only last week and taking requests, where guitar lines had to be improvised on keyboard. While totally unexpected, this was a rare treat and a great warm up for 65daysofstatic who were next on the bill, or so we thought. For little did we know that at the time there were so many people crammed into the venue that security were being forced to turn away hundreds more at the door. The rumour goes that someone decided to try the fire exit as a sneaky entry point, setting off the alarm and causing an automatic shutdown of power to the building, along with hundreds of angry fans – the fire drill sounded just as the band were taking to the stage. No explanation was given by the personnel at this point; they just asked us to make our way to the doors. There was to be no performance of 65daysofstatic that evening.

In dire need of some simple noise pop to lift our spirits, we queued to see Dum Dum Girls at The Harley. Dingy and wonderfully atmospheric, it was an ideal place to wait for some technical problem or other to sort itself out, and by the time they started their set at 1am nobody seemed to mind or even notice that for most of Sheffield the Tramlines festival had long since finished. Apart from some very striking haircuts and a certain L.A. nonchalance there wasn't an awful lot in the way of engagement, save closing with Sonny Bobo cover Baby Don't Go, the only sign of emotion in a fun but otherwise pretty samey set. After that we did of course go, safe in the knowledge that we'd probably got our money's worth.