As I write this, I am surfing the web, meandering through streams of consciousness and mindlessly consuming mainstream popular culture.  If I want to read about how crack cocaine is made, I can. If I want to read about glass blowing, I can. I have no desire to move to the outback and shoot a kangaroo in order to reach self-actualisation. I have no philosophical agenda; I actively choose to ignore reality for the loving embrace of my laptop. Anyone claiming they do the opposite wouldn’t be reading this review right now.

While you read the above, I just read about French hip hop. I did so not because it is funny, or well written, or even interesting. I read it solely because it exists.

I have similar sentiments towards Replica, the newest offering from sonic wizard Oneohtrix Point Never. An analogue-synth enthusiast living in Brooklyn, OPN has been hailed as a genius of dark, minimalist electronica by the likes of Pitchfork and many others.

Replica is a droning, moody piece of experimental music made from the samples of television commercials. It’s dense and complex, but not necessarily inviting. I will listen, but only because it’s sitting in front of me.

Ryan Lynch

I don’t think I have ever met anyone who has the ‘right’ amount of self-esteem. The designation of ‘low self-esteem’ is virtually meaningless, as human behaviour is amorphous. Someone with an overabundance of confidence is often assumed to be compensating for low self-esteem. Someone with too little confidence suddenly hates himself.

Atlas Sound, the solo project of Deerhunter front man Bradford Cox, understands the complexities of being. Composed and recorded solely (for the most part) by Cox, Atlas Sound records are often intimate and personal, and Parallax explores similar themes of isolation and alienation.

Parallax is a deceptively simple record. Conventional song structures house cryptic lyrics looking out over vast, expansive sonic landscapes that can be revisited multiple times to discover all of the embedded subtlties and nuances.

Parallax evokes comparisons to the work of late-American songwriter Mark Linkous of Sparklehorse, particularly the album It’s A Wonderful Life. Both albums possess a sorrowful cynicism, mirroring the artists’ own despondency. On Te Amo, Cox sings, ‘When you’re down, you’re always down’. Less than three minutes later, on Modern Aquatic Nightsongs, he croons, ‘Is your love worth the nausea it would bring?’. Somebody is a Debbie Downer.

Ryan Lynch

UK trio The Subways make a solid return with album number three and a new mindset to engage their fans. Although starting out with some 50 songs written in the lead-up to recording, the band made the bold decision not to use any of them for Money And Celebrity.

First impressions weren’t great and I’ve personally found Money And Celebrity to be a bit of a slow burner - I was expecting the band to take some pretty big leaps forward instead of sticking with their past formula. It would be easy to assume The Subways have grown a little stagnant after taking in the juvenile pop rock tune It’s A Party and We Don’t Need Money To Have A Good Time is also a little lame. Clearly the band are in need of a shit filter as there are some other shockers too, with Friday offering some terribly constructed lyrics.

When they’re not trying so hard The Subways sound a lot less contrived, with Celebrity standing out. Other saving graces include Kiss Kiss Bang Bang and I Wanna Dance With You, proving the middle section of the album is clearly the best.

Money And Celebrity is a solid album, but I was expecting a lot more.

Rob Lyon 

They say that pain makes great art, and if this is true then Brooklyn-based band We Are Augustines are poised to be at the forefront of a renaissance of depressing indie rock. The music of We Are Augustines is far from the unrequited love ballads of Death Cab or the gentle heartbreak of Bon Iver. We Are Augustines’ brand of emotive rock doesn’t ask for your pity or your sympathy, instead Rise Ye Sunken Ships is an album all about redemption.

Vocalist Billy McCarthy’s life is ripe for a TV movie adaptation, and the album chronicles his history unapologetically. McCarthy grew up in orphanages after his alcoholic mother overdosed on sleeping pills and cocaine. His brother, a schizophrenic bouncing from one psychiatric hospital to another, hanged himself.

The debut from We Are Augustines is harsh, yet triumphant.  McCarthy’s vocals will grate some, as at times he sounds like an 80-year-old man having a stroke, however it’s a powerful and tumultuous ride, one that you will not soon forget.

Ryan Lynch

As expected, Imaginaerum, the seventh album from Finnish symphonic metal band Nightwish, starts off in typically epic fashion on Storytime - once you get passed the spoken word intro of Taikatalvi, that is. From there on however it is truly a rollercoaster ride of an album, more befitting a fantasy movie soundtrack than a traditional hard rock album. This is probably a good thing though, considering the companion movie is currently being worked on and promises to be incredible in its own right.

Alongside the usual Nightwish instrumentation and vocals, there are plenty of additional powerful choral arrangements and orchestrations, adding many layers to the album that proves an ambitious project even for Nightwish. It works well though, as Imaginaerum moves freely from the bigger, more lavish tracks to softer and haunting songs such as Slow Love Slow.

Probably the only track to really let the album down is the single The Crow, The Owl And The Dove, which just seems to fall a little short, but thankfully the listener is soon whisked away again on Last Ride Of The Day and the 13-minute epic Song Of Myself.

It will certainly be interesting to see how the music unfolds within the Imaginaerum world on the big screen, but as a standalone, the album itself is more than enough to sweep you into an epic fantasy world.

Peter Lanyon

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