IN&OUTTONIGHT REVIEWS 30 Monday, 7 September 2009 London Lite MUSICALLY theyre about as forward-thinking as a Taliban cleric who yearns for the days when whistling was outlawed, but these Yorkshire lads -- with ex-Smiths jangler Johnny Marr now adding a sheen of guitar loveliness -- are not just landfill indie. Ignore The Ignorant has a clutch of US-influenced indie rock tunes that, well, rock. Cheat On Me benefits from Gary Jarmans Kurt Cobain-esque roar on the chorus, while We Share The Skies has echoes of late Eighties alt-rock and the title track cribs (sorry) the judder of The Smiths Panic. Not bad at all. PAUL CONNOLLY REVIEWSMUSIC T HE reason many bands stumble at that pesky second album hurdle often has very little to do with creative blocks or the pressure to top a prede- cessor. Its more a case of sudden and dramatic shifts in the writers pen-holding habitat, or a massive tweak- ing of their normal frame of reference. Say youre living in your mums spare room, working in a button factory and writing folk songs about riding the bus from said button factory to visit your kids at their mums and drop off your button pay packet child support. What are you going to do when your debut album goes platinum, you buy your mum a new house, turn the button factory into a recording studio and start flitting about by helicop- ter? What are you going to write about then? Matreds and canapes? Breathe a sigh of relief for Jamie T, then. On his follow-up to 2007s scampish, Mercury- nominated album Panic Prevention, he has, like Jenny before him, remembered that hes from the block. His particular block may be leafy Wimbledon but JT has always ignored tennis and Pimms in favour of songs about underage drinking, train station hooliganism and girls getting aggro on Stella. This long-awaited follow-up sees Jamie still rooted in what he holds dearest -- scruff and cheek and grubbiness -- all framed with his scrappy sarf LDN tongue and that School Of Alex Turner gift for finding beauty in mundanity, while never skimping on a good tune. You could think of him as the missing link between Turner and Dizzee; a rascal whose tongue-twisting observa- tions and regional lilt blend wit and charm with riotous hip hop and tender, rugged indie-pop. The track Chaka Demus swerves between the sad facts (A lot of people around here, lost the whites in their eyes) and a buoyant, almost Caribbean swagger, while Hocus Pocus, a whooping singalong fantasy about broken dreams, sounds more Arctic Monkeys than much of Humbug does. On the tremendous SticksnStones, a frenetic tale of a Hampton Wick troublemaker, he could be Mike Skinners ADHD younger brother. Jamie, whose debut was named after the panic attacks that abated when he took up music, has used his new-found confidence to beef himself up sonically. A wall of guitars coupled with a chorus of backing singers and a bit of world music (check out the sumptuous Earth, Wind & Fire which flits between Welsh folk samples, quick-fire raps and bluesy, rocknroll growls) now sits, noisily confi- dent, in place of one boy and his strings. A royal flush for kid JamieTHE BIG NOISE Jamie T KingsAndQueens(Virgin,10.76) MARTHA DE LACEY ROCK Yo La Tengo PopularSongs (Matador,11.74) ITS only polite to tar New Jerseys most prolific musos with the rock brush, even if Yo La Tengo can mould themselves into any genre at the flick of a plectrum. Just six months after the trio, who have been together 25 years, released F***book, a roaring album of scuzzy covers under the Condo F***s moniker, theyre back at the day job with studio album number 12. Predictably, its a diverse barrel of richly layered musicality, from swooning, violin-coated space-rock (Here To Fall) to dreamy Sixties psychedelia (Avalon Or Someone Very Similar), and epic, Sonic Youth-y, instrumental rock-outs (And The Glitter Is Gone). The glitter aint gone. M DE L LIFE is too short to live without poetry, sings the 28-year-old punk troubadour Turner on his third album, and its a sign of how seriously he takes this that hes stripped the sound back to acoustic guitar, piano and percussion, to leave plenty of room for, well, himself. The former frontman of hardcore band Million Dead is probably more sixth-form poet than future laureate, but you can tell hes singing his heart out, even on Dans Song, a tune about drinking in the park with his mates. You may agree that his amiable ditties are poetry -- or you may just think lifes too short. AMBER COWAN LIVE Noah And The Whale ICA To order any CD reviewed, call The London Lite CD service on 01634 832789. All prices include P&P POP Frank Turner PoetryOfTheDeed (XtraMile,11.74) POP Zero 7 YeahGhost (Atlantic,12.72) CHRISTINA AGUILERA says when she was pregnant she craved the droopy-lidded, chilled-out grooves of Zero 7. Henry Binns and Sam Hardaker havent entirely veered off the course they have carved themselves over 10 years as Londons lords of down-tempo, ambient pop -- new tracks Pop Art Blue and The Road drip with minor chord melancholy and moist-lipped female guest vocalists. Though lily-livered in places, they have dialled up the funk: Everything Up (Zizou) has a proper pulse, Mr McGee dabbles in jazz- punk, Swing boasts a steel drum section and Medicine Man sounds like theyre hankering for an invite to Basement Jaxxs party. M DE L INDIE The Cribs IgnoreTheIgnorant (Wichita,11.74) To a T: a second album triumph for Wimbledons street poet NOPE, sorry, not down here, sighed the ICAs ticket attendant, offering a pursed-lipped pity-smile to the anxious couple. Mr and Mrs Fink? Nope. Next! But we really must come in, Mrs Fink pointed out politely. Our sons are in the band. Fridays intimate gig to launch Noah And The Whales delicious second album First Days Of Spring was a Finky affair indeed. Charlie Fink, the 23-year-old mouthpiece for Londons folk-pop four- piece, has the demurely confident stage presence of a young Dylan and a warm, idiosyncratic, quivering growl. Big brother Doug clobbers drums with a rugged passion evident in the strange, frantic way he chomps the air, keeping rhythm with fist and jaw. But the Whalers will soon be half as Finky. Dr Doug, who spent Friday morning working in a hospital, is leaving the band to concentrate on medicine. It was a tricky decision, obvious from the emotion in Charlies voice informing the audience this would be Dougs last gig for a while and the sleeve-to-damp-eyes tic Doug developed during encore 5 Years Time, 2008s sublime sleeper hit. The boys trademark jolly parping trumpets have been ditched for a guest electric guitarist who cranked everything -- from the heart- crushing My Broken Heart to the sumptuously joyful Love Of An Orchestra -- up to 11. Emotionally thrilling. Yep, some talented brothers. And mum and dad, whooping louder than the bands pinafore/ blazer-wearing superfans, looked bloody happy they finally got past ticket-girl to witness the pair playing together for the last time. M DE L WehadaWhaleofa(last)time Fink its all over for Doug: Charlie at the ICA index.html2.html3.html4.html5.html6.html7.html8.html9.html10.html11.html12.html13.html14.html15.html16.html17.html18.html19.html20.html21.html22.html23.html24.html25.html26.html27.html28.html29.html30.html31.html32.html33.html34.html35.html36.html37.html38.html39.html40.html41.html42.html43.html