Pop by any other name would smell as sweet.

I've got a real sweet tooth. Friday night, for example, I ate 10 Rocky bars - Hardcore. I'm generally the same with my music. A good hook gets me addicted, whether it be a vocal ad-lib or a slab of big synth chords in my face, even the odd keyboard solo. Yes, I can take a lot of the sweet stuff. Pop music might be sickly to some, but I just pile on the syrup.

But in the last couple of months I've been wondering (hell, I've been wondering for the past year), exactly where pop music can go from here. Any artist that tries for commercial success by following current trends, i.e. flaccid urband beats, squelchy electronic basslines and nintendo synths, is happy to retreat 2009's footsteps rather than progress. Even recent enjoyable examples such as Kelly Rowland's Guetta banger "Commander" and Katy Perry's giddy Tik Tok ripoff "California Gurls" seem like lucky strikes rather than inspired and creative songwriting. Although I fear I am his sole supporter amongst critics, I really thought Owl City could pull pop music into a new, happy-go-lucky, blissfully innocent phase in 2010, but now he's failed to make the impact I'd hoped for, I don't really know where to turn.

Or at least I didn't. The lack of interesting pop hits (and the downright offensive; JLS's "The Club is Alive" nearly gave me a hernia) drove me into the unwelcoming arms of less commercial music - The kind I would previously pick and mix my way through, selecting the soft, fuzzy marshmellow stuff over all that was fizzy, sour and chewy.

But it seemed that the music heralded by the likes of NME, Pitchfork and Drowned in Sound was suddenly sweeter than ever. In fact, in comparison to the dull, tasteless likes of Timbaland and Christina Aguilera (whose "Bionic" is in a league of its own for worst record of the year), this indie and alternative music was finally offering the right blend of sweet and bitter. I guess I was sick of satisfying my sweet tooth - Any more sugar and it would undoubtedly rot.

So band by band, my iPod was transformed. Gone was Gaga, no longer bonkers for Dizzee, and no more flashbacks to Calvin Harris. Instead, along came The Pains of Being Pure at Heart, whose nihilistic attitude and razor sharp guitars were undercut by an irrestistable sweetness in the melodies, a combination well represented by their elaborate name.



Crystal Castles also finally crashed into my life, screaming and kicking, with an innocent, unprepared purchase of their sophomore record. Like raving with bloodthirsty zombies, they took blippy synthpop and polished eurodance and ripped through it like a baby alien clawing its way out of your chest. How I can still bring myself to call their music beautiful and euphoric makes no sense, but it really is.



A scattering of incredible pop-tinged, unclassifiable music also came my way at all angles. A band named Elite Gymnastics made the most delirious, dark dance track in living memory in the form of "Is This On Me?", proving that pitch shifted chipmunk vocals need not always be anathema.



An enthusiastic indie dance act called Visitor packed love, hooks and emotion into a very intense four minutes of glorious cheese entitled "Los Feeling" - finally, a band that GETS me!



...and Beach House, oh Beach House, with your windswept love-songs-that-might-not-actually-be-love-songs; when I heard "Norway", it broke my heart every time I heard it and then proceeded to get stuck in my head. I would sing it loudly whilst choking on my tears on public transport. It was a tough week after that first listen.



All these bands know how to write a beautiful melody, a catchy tune and an addictive hook much better than any big current name you could care to mention. So why aren't they the names on everybody's lips?

Because those lips like to taste the same flavours every time. Beach House, Pains of Being Pure, Crystal Castles, even the slightly irritating Drums... these bands have the tunes, but they aren't bound by the need for success that so many major artists give into. They do it their way, and use what the hell sounds they want. If only the diabetic music buyers could hear their beloved polished turds without the trickery, obnoxiously loud mix and glamourous videos: they would see where the real talent for pop music lies. Or at least where it doesn't.

I'll conclude with my new favourite band. A side project of the aforementioned Pains of Being Pure at Heart, the blissful Depreciation Guild have even more in common with My Bloody Valentine than their rebellious older brother, but somehow, through a heartbreaking combination of romantic clean guitars, daydreaming vocals and poppy beats, they emerge closer to my heart than either of those bands, at least they do this week. Here's "Dream About Me". Adieu.

Pop can wait... Thoughts on the new Anathema LP.

“Life is not the opposite of death. Birth is the opposite of death. Life is eternal.”

A hardcore Anathema fan, and I like to include myself amongst them, waits patiently for the next Anathema album for years at a time, knowing that the music contained therein will inspire them, give them food for thought, and make them realise how precious life is, and often how fragile and saddening it can also be. A new Anathema album is a big event in my life, and many others; it gives me a chance to stand perfectly still for its duration, lock myself away from the world, and face my emotions head on. Because only Anathema, through the medium of atmospheric rock, can make music that I can truly relate to, on a deeply personal level. I don’t know how they do it.

Things are a bit different this time round however. It’s been 7 long years since the lonely, isolated “A Natural Disaster” was released, and in that time, those in Anathema, lead singer Danny in particular, have had some sort of revelation, discovered the path to some state of nirvana. I don’t think they quite found God (their death metal past has probably made it nigh on impossible for them ever to do that), but they found something else, something beautiful that gave them hope, helped them to let go of their past worries and depressions.

Now, for a band that made a career out of writing songs expressing fear, regret, isolation and mourning that spoke to the hearts of hundreds of thousands of troubled, lost individuals across Europe, to suddenly “get happy” is certainly a risk. But it’s not like they don’t deserve to, it’s been a long journey. Anyone that remembers that dingy, smothering riff that opened “...And I Lust” on their first EP way back in 1992 wouldn’t hesitate to tell you that Anathema were a very different band back then: 5 young and angry Liverpudlians, desperate to express their sadness and anger; it’s no surprise that the bittersweet underground death/doom metal scene was an easy route for them to take.

But on that same EP, you just listen to the maudlin guitar pickings of the earth shatteringly depressing “Everwake”, as a haunting female voice sings of relief in suicide. Anathema were never a band to take their emotions lightly, it’s not a surprise they outgrew the often insincere and shallow doom metal scene. Listening to 1995’s “The Silent Enigma” and 1996’s “Eternity”, the records were Anathema: “the metal band” became Anathema: “the rock band”, you can hear the musical ideas bursting out, the band desperate to express themselves further but not having the tools within the ‘metal’ genre to really do themselves justice.

And then came “Alternative 4”, and eventually, just before the turn of the millennium, the glorious, spectacular, heartbreakingly passionate “Judgement”. Anathema had found their feet and were beginning to tell their fans exactly how they felt. No longer did that have to worry about heavy riffs and ‘sick’ or ‘brutal’ vocals; this Anathema used a sustained piano note to express despair, and a solo violin to express loneliness. And even, on a couple of occasions, they would sing of hope. Now that really is ‘anathema’, isn’t it? (!)

What a lot of the fans that the band lost during this period failed to realise was that Anathema were growing as people alongside their music. It was therapy, reflection and exorcism of their demons. Drummer John wrote frankly of his drug addiction in “Make it Right”, Danny confessed his heartbreak at the loss of his mother in “One Last Goodbye”, and ex-bassist Duncan wrote of his paranoia and mistrust of others in “Lost Control” and “Alternative 4”.

But those who didn’t, and still don’t, want Anathema to become optimistic are missing out on a whole new musical experience that the band is offering them. These so-called ‘fans’ don’t want to feel the warmth of new horizons and change in “2000 & Gone”, they refuse to believe that “Temporary Peace” from 2001’s “A Fine Day to Exit” has the comfort of love at its core, and they hate to hear the honesty in Danny’s voice in “Are You There?” from “A Natural Disaster”. If these individuals would just listen to Anathema without any bias or expectation, they would understand that Anathema are sharing with them how they are dealing with the negative feelings, fear and pain they wallowed in for so long. We could all learn a lesson from Anathema on how to feel love at our lowest point.

And that brings me (finally) to “We’re Here Because We’re Here”, Anathema’s new record, that was released on Monday 31st May 2010, just a few short days ago. I can’t contain myself any more: the record’s incredible. It’s a masterpiece. It’s everything the band has been leading up to in their career this far, and it was well worth the 7 year wait. We heard “Everything” back in 2006, and although it brought us hope and was a hint of Anathema’s new mindset, that was all it was: a hint, a whiff of positivity out of context. Then along came “A Simple Mistake”, a track that built up to Anathema’s best guitar riff in years; something for the metalheads to chew. It had this same message of hope, even re-quoting “Shroud of False”, stating “we are not just a moment in time”. Poignant stuff, but it was still not quite evident where Anathema were going with all this.

Then 2 years later along came “Angels Walk Among Us”, which sounded like it had been taken straight from the elegant feedback-laden laments that made up their career defining “Judgement” record, but something was different. The longing was there, but now all of a sudden, and you could hear it in Vinny’s voice, what he longed for was now within his reach. “Only you can heal your life... only you can heal inside...”; the penny dropped: Anathema were not simply embracing hope and rejecting pain; they were accepting everything just the way it was, and this acceptance was bringing with it a certain element in Anathema’s music which had been absent until now: Peace.

A further 2 years and along comes “We’re Here...” and Anathema finally show us what they are capable of. You can hear all the stages of Anathema’s career here; the apocalyptic chords of “Thin Air” and “Universal” hark back as far as “The Silent Enigma”, while the troubled busy arrangements of “Summer Night Horizon” and “Get Off Get Out” are pure “A Fine Day to Exit”. But my god, Anathema have never sounded more alive, more tight as a band, more passionate. Each song builds from a fragile sigh to an impassioned roar, and Vinny in particular never holds back: for the first time his windswept tenor has room to soar and he is no longer afraid to spread his wings.

As much as this album is not as much about hope and eternal life as Anathema would perhaps have you believe, given their prophetic onstage presence, and the two lengthy monologues/interludes on the record, that read very much like sermons, there is one track here that really expresses true happiness. “Dreaming Light” could well be the most affecting piece of music Anathema have ever committed to tape, on a par with “One Last Goodbye” at the very least. A power ballad in structure, a simple 4 chord anthem, but one that has sincerity at its very core, wears its heart on its sleeve, stands naked before you and breathes a sigh of relief, as it has no more fear or pain, and hasn’t got any more secrets to hide.

I see “Dreaming Light” as the final part of a trilogy of Anathema’s truly classic songs. The first being the pain and mourning expressed in “One Last Goodbye”, the second being the desperate confessions of “Are You There?” and here we are at the third: a final goodbye, an acceptance and a pledge to move on and never forget. Call me saccharine and overly sentimental, but hearing is believing. This song will convert even the coldest hearted of cynics.

“We’re Here Because We’re Here” doesn’t dwell on its fears, it confronts them. It’s about accepting what we cannot change, as brutal as the truth may be. For every beacon of love and celebration of life like “Everything”, there is a dark glance back over the shoulder like “Universal”. Even outro “Hindsight” is bittersweet, like the comedown after the battle of despair that was “Violence”, which closed Anathema’s last record. But as “Hindsight” fades away into echoes and distant reflections of sound, a major chord gently lands and carries us to the end of the road. We hear the sound of a band that has discovered itself and its music in an entirely new way.

For a band that, for so long, could not see light at the end of the tunnel, Anathema are no longer the lonely soul’s companion, they are now their saviour.

Top 10 Songs of May '10.

10

Better Than Love

Hurts

Hurts can get away with writing glorified power ballads (not even that glorified) because they aren’t pretentious, they simply ARE an 80s synth-led new wave band. They may take themselves ridiculously seriously but that’s the point. So many bands that take themselves seriously enough to think that they are somehow ‘above’ a simple melody and a good pop song, but not Hurts. Better Than Love is hook upon hook of dazzling gothic melodrama, dressed up in Joy Division attitude and Human League arrangements. And it feels better than love.

(Read further thoughts about Hurts and Better Than Love here: http://givepopachance.blogspot.com/2010/05/pop-heals-all-things.html)

9

Jumping into Rivers

Diana Vickers

Within a month of Once being released, it seems that the hype over Vickers' debut died down as quickly as it grew, but we're still left with an undoubtedly remarkable pop record. Jumping into Rivers is, to my ears, the little voiced northerner's signature tune, squeaky ad-libs and fuzzy acoustic strumming as various forest animals get busy with wooden clicks and thuds. The most organic sounding electropop song in ages, Jumping into Rivers is bursting with youth and subdued joy, the peerless soundtrack for daydreams to come.

(Read my review of Diana Vickers’ Tales from the Tainted Cherry Tree here: http://www.lastbroadcast.co.uk/music/album-reviews/v/11175-diana-vickers-songs-from-the-tainted-cherry-tree.html)

8

Better Than Her

Matisse

It wouldn’t be accurate to call Matisse a frightfully original pop singer. Her voice could be any one of the Pussycat Dolls, and what’s that I hear? Oh it’s that synth nabbed from Just Dance... again. So why give it the time of day? It’s simple, it’s a great song. A really great song, one that has more in common with the forward thinking likes of Robyn and Kelis than Cheryl Cole or The Saturdays. Matisse really can do it better than her, or indeed him and them, because it’s inspirational and celebratory. Cheryl might have got away with Fight for this Love, but there’s no guilty pleasure in Better Than Her. Matisse sings “I’m a girl who can take the lead” and with tracks like this, let’s hope she’s true to her word.

7

Umbrella Beach

Owl City

To a lot of people it feels like Adam Young’s Owl City project has already outstayed its welcome, given the bombardment of airplay Fireflies has received, but to me, the magic is only just beginning. Umbrella Beach is everything The Postal Service wouldn’t dare attempt. It’s vast, it’s euphoric, it’s absurdly jubilant, and it’s cheesy as hell, but it quashes any accusation that Owl City is a below par Postal Service. What we have here is uplifting Eurodance from a lonely boy closing his eyes and dreaming he is somewhere else. I’d like to see The Postal Service deliver mail where Adam Young is going...

(Read my review of the Owl City album here: http://thelostchildrensanctuary.blogspot.com/2010/01/owl-city.html)

6

Self vs Self

Pendulum & In Flames

One diluted their sound and forgot how to hold their colour, the other attempted to return to their roots and found that that bird had flown. But in 2010, the two came together and found purpose in their music again through this incredible collaboration. Pendulum’s colossal beats rigidly command In Flames scorching guitar riffs, and Pendulum singer Rob Swire‘s tones are yearning and innocent in comparison to Anders Frieden’s devilish rasps. It’s a match made in heaven, or some place awfully similar.

(Read my review of Pendulum’s Immersion album here: http://www.lastbroadcast.co.uk/music/album-reviews/v/11408-pendulum-immersion.html)

5

Notice

Diana Vickers

If Ms Vickers was at home in Jumping Into Rivers, she’s on the outside looking in on Notice. There’s a touch of poignancy in the simple message and melody of this song. Co-written by Ellie Goulding, the Starry Eyed star could never have done justice to this delicate ballad herself, whilst when Vickers laments “Will you catch my fall? Do you know me at all? It’s like you never notice me” she sounds vulnerable, naive and scared, even when her voice allows itself to soar in a rare moment of projection. The first verse and chorus are the best, delicate acoustics shimmering around Vickers’ sorrowful whispers, but even when the song teeters dangerously near to power ballad territory, it is Vickers’ fight to stay above the music that makes Notice such a touching, emotional listen. She’s still got a lot to learn about the world, and she’ll find this song especially relevant if her career takes a turn for the worse. But it’s far from justice if it does.

(Read my review of Diana Vickers’ Tales from the Tainted Cherry Tree here: http://www.lastbroadcast.co.uk/music/album-reviews/v/11175-diana-vickers-songs-from-the-tainted-cherry-tree.html)

4

Violent Dreams

Crystal Castles

By far the most unearthly sounding and yet spellbindingly beautiful track on Crystal Castles’ second self-titled effort, although not quite the best, Violent Dreams manages to be relaxing and unnerving at the same time. As with most Crystal Castles’ music, the band communicates with you via sound rather than words; the distorted, distant mutterings litter the vast echoing chords like drops of rain from a foreboding thundercloud. Violence is nowhere to be found in this track, but the fear of violence and the unknown grows deeper and darker with each lengthy reverb. But it’s ok, it’s just a dream... or is it?

3

One Touch

Mini Viva

Whilst the rather more famous Xenomania girl group, Girls Aloud, twist the production team’s spacey Eurodance to their quirky, aloof means, Mini Viva make it sound seductive and sexy...

(Read the rest of my review here: http://www.lastbroadcast.co.uk/music/single-reviews/v/11177-mini-viva-one-touch.html)

2

Cry

Gayngs

Against my better judgement, a cover makes it to number 2 in my list, but if any band know how to celebrate mourning, Gayngs have proven themselves to be certain frontrunners. Whether 10cc are turning in their graves or not is irrelevant; when Gayngs perform Cry we are treated to something authentically whiney, depressing, plodding and self-pitying, but this is the essence of sadness. It’s not pretty, it’s not easy on the ear, but it’s still somehow beautiful. Cry is the sound of the moment when we admit that no, we’re not ok, the moment when all hope finally seems irretrievable. And as voices tearfully wail the titular word over a cheesy, lush soft rock backdrop, we are all reminded that there is a sort of comfort to be gained from giving in to your sadness.

(Read my review of Gayngs Relayted here: http://www.popmatters.com/pm/review/125222-gayngs-relayted)

1

Baptism

Crystal Castles

Crystal Castles’ sound stems from taking something gorgeous, or something easy on the ear and sabotaging it with all their might. Celestica is the track that people most associate with the band’s sophomore effort, but Baptism is its true crown jewel. The beats are sharp and unpolished, the pulsating trance chords are compressed and distorted to shreds as Alice Glass yells her way to the front of the mix, like a rebel rallying on her supporters. There is something of a call-to-arms about Baptism, no doubt, and it is this fierce determination that says very clearly that Crystal Castles are not about to take any prisoners. The instrumental breaks bubble with intent like the calm before the storm until all hell breaks loose and Glass begins to aurally assault us once more. Not since Idioteque by Radiohead has a dance track sounded so apocalyptic.