Team Picture Comes into Focus

Review from LemonWire

There is definitely something going on in Leeds.  The English city has birthed everyone from post-punk greats like Gang of Four, the Mekons and the Wedding Present to Goth purveyors Sisters of Mercy, synth-pop sleaze merchants Soft Cell, Alt-rockers Kaiser Chiefs and the arty, intellectual strains of current heroes Alt-J.

The next Leeds offering to gain worldwide acclaim just may be Team Picture, a five-piece ensemble described on Facebook as “One part post-punk, two parts fuzz.” Although the evidence is slim -- just four singles so far -- the appeal is undeniable

(You can hear all four tracks on the band’s Soundcloud page)

Team Picture’s latest release “Back to Bay Six” begins as a driving barrage of alternately ragged and ringing guitar with urgent vocals and a spectral “oooh, aaah” chorus. The track changes pace for the final couple minutes, sliding into a more lilting approach to six-string shimmer. The willingness to allow songs to indulge such instrumental flights of fancy and the employment of sophisticated arrangements gives Team Picture a prog edge that sets them somewhat apart from their indie rock brethren.

TP released three tracks in 2016. “Birthday Blues” is another relatively long (six minutes) sonic blast, featuring a propulsive, insistent intro followed by a guitar line that cuts through like The Edge on acid. Singer/guitarist Josh McCarthy’s psychedelic, multi-tracked vocals consist only of the repeated line, “Ain’t nobody wanna be friends with me,” rendering the title self-explanatory. The track concludes with three minutes of unrestrained guitar glory.

“Classic M” comes off like a Jesus and Mary Chain homage with a more plodding beat and dark, primal vocal highlighted by a sing-shouted female chorus, giving the short track a post-punk Goth feel. Team Picture manage to make good use of the male-female vocal dynamic in a manner similar to fellow Leeds newbies Menace Beach.

Contrasting the other three Team Pictures tracks is “Potpourri Headache,” a slowly turning, six-minute voyage to the deep end of your mind. With a title worthy of a Pink Floyd outtake, the song offers plenty of psychedelic guitar drone and ocean waves of ghostly vocals that twist and turn like woozy brain taffy.

Team Picture’s Band Camp site describes them as "Professional genre tourists and consummate knob twiddlers." Indeed, they take the lo-fi, DIY approach to indie rock and marry it with digital tools that allow even the most humble acolytes to ape rock-god studio veterans. Whether they can reproduce their amazing sound in a live setting is to be determined, at least on this side of the pond, but following their progress is bound to make our ears happy.

So far we have only a snapshot, yet there’s a good chance Team Picture will be suitable for framing.

Menace Beach: Surf's Down!

Review from LemonWire

Despite their name, Menace Beach hail from Leeds in the landlocked north of England, but do manage to invoke some feelings of peril on their excellent sophomore album, “Lemon Memory.”

Built around core members Ryan Needham and Liza Violet, Menace Beach carve out edgy indie rock fueled by distorted guitars, post-punk attitude and post-modern malaise, infused with a sure melodic sense. The duo’s alternating vocals make the elixir even more potent.

Needham and Violet go in for dark subject matter but pop smarts are always lurking just below the surface, and they’re not afraid of kitschy song titles like “Can’t Get a Haircut,” even if the track itself is grinding and, yes, menacing.

Needham gets right to the point on the album opener, “Give Blood,” diving headlong into a monster riff and snarling lyrics like,

“Why'd you wanna sing about dead
Why'd you wanna sing about dead
Don't wanna sing about life”

But Violet offers some backing vocal contrast, and Needham adds a melodic chorus. That same memorable balance of elements finds its way into the disc’s nine other tracks. There’s a good deal of ‘90s Alt-Rock influences, too, but Menace Beach know the good from the bad and it never gets ugly.

“Lemon Memory” crams in plenty of buzzsaw guitar and occasional organ flourishes that are used to good effect on such tracks as the driving “Sentimental,” the Pixies-like pop confection “Watch Me Boil” and the title cut.

Violet’s plaintive singing is front and center on the churning “Maybe We’ll Drown” (see accompanying minimalist video). She offers heavenly vocals not far removed from Cocteau Twins’ Liz Fraser on “Owl” and album closer “Hexbreaker II,” a shoegaze-y drone where the effect is downright blissful.

There’s not a bum track to be found. Menace Beach never over stay their welcome and occasionally leave you wishing the song was a little longer. It’s still early in the game, but don’t be surprised if “Lemon Memory” finds its way onto some year-end “Best Of” lists.

Proper Ornaments Get Hung Up on Psychedelia

Review from Gigwise

You can easily imagine James Hoare strolling around enveloped in a hazy, paisley cloud of psychedelia, on his way to a late-afternoon hookah bar brainstorming session with the ghost of Syd Barrett. Hoare, who also logs time in London alt-pysch band Ultimate Painting and indie-pop outfit Veronica Falls, is half the creative team of the Proper Ornaments, whose new album, “Foxhole,” is due for a late January release.

Hoare formed the Proper Ornaments in 2010 with Argentine expat Maximo Oscarnold (aka Max Claps), who was rescued from a messy situation in Buenos Aires by none other than former Rolling Stones manager Andrew Loog Oldham. “Foxhole” is their second proper full-length album, following a string of EPs and singles and 2014’s “Wooden Head.” The new disc eschews most of the rock elements of its predecessor to focus squarely on the more contemplative aspects of neo-psyche songwriting.

“Foxhole” consists of 11 simple, straightforward tracks built around a no-muss mix of guitar, bass, drums and piano, augmenting hushed (in some cases, nearly whispered) vocals a la Jesus and Mary Chain. The mood is mostly somber and inward-looking, but not cold or lacking in emotion, and unfailingly melodic. Hoare and Claps wear their influences on their billowy sleeves, inviting glances into the review mirror via song titles like “Back Pages,” “Memories,” “1969” and “When We Were Young.”

The album gets off to a promising start with “Back Pages,” the titular Dylan reference reflected in the ringing guitars reminiscent of preeminent Zimmerman interpreters the Byrds. When the Proper Ornaments follow that with “Cremated (Blown Away),” a melodic ditty with a propulsive, Velvet Underground-lite groove, you might suspect “Foxhole” will be another collection of breezy, buzzy indie concoctions.

But next up is “Memories,” a soothing, piano-based five-and-half-minute session of Floydian analysis conducted inside a Beatlesque armoire. The gently cooed lyrics urge the listener to “look into the sun / when everything’s become / a whiter shade of gray,” recalling Aussie rockers Jet and their Fab Four homage, “Look What You’ve Done.”

“Foxhole” then slips into a handful of tracks that are somewhat indistinguishable from one another, though never less than nicely crafted. The songs come and go, leaving vague impressions rather than concrete imprints. A few are more like sketches of songs rather than fully-fledged tracks, odd considering that, according to a band bio, virtually the entire album had to be re-recorded from scratch after an eight-track tape malfunction rendered the original session tapes useless.   But Hoare and Claps are out to capture a vibe here and seem determined to see it through.

The album regains momentum with the slightly brighter “Bridge by a River” and “I Know You Know,” which demands attention as it veers closer to folk-rock territory.  “The Devils” closes “Foxhole” in a more grand, baroque manner, with some (title notwithstanding) heavenly vocal harmonies that might bring a sly grin to Brian Wilson’s face.

James Hoare seems like a bloke with psychedelic melodies literally oozing from his pores, which might explain requiring three bands to fully feed his muse. While falling short of the standout neo-psychedelia produced by Ultimate Painting, the Proper Ornaments offer likeminded listeners another fertile little patch to plant their posies. Surely not the kind of thing you’d listen to while sweating on an elliptical trainer but, let’s say, a welcome alternative to the usual offerings at your local restorative yoga retreat. Hookah pipe optional.