#13: Dirty Beaches

New Narcotic of the Day #13:

Dirty Beaches

Dirty Beaches is the beautifully pun-tastic pseudonym of one musical man, concocting a low-key, off-kilter collection of ideas and moulding them in his mind until this subdued sort-of-dub leaked into the world. His music burns with an icy sunshine, which sounds implausible until you learn he lived for years basking in the heat of Hawaii before moving to his current haunt, the snowy, chilly Canadian city of Montreal.

'Lord Knows Best', the track that made me fall into sonic reverie, sways with a perfectly pitched piano pop flutter, whilst the voice of Dirty Beaches growls, almost menacingly, atop, fusing these two seperate worlds into a vat of melting wonder, dripping with a late-night, drunk swagger.

He turns The Stooges into something far more terrifying, which is something I never thought possible. But 'No Fun' becomes a warning track, blaring forth a drilling beat with dry, instructive vocals demanding and commanding atop the whole thing. His voice resonates like Ian Curtis on a comedown, mumbling in a half-intelligible saunter that enraptures as much as it creeps and crawls.

Listen to a bit of this Dirty Beaches fellow right now before his album creates another bloody genre craze. GO GO GO!

Dirty Beaches' Myspace

Albums of 2010: #4: The Fool

#4: 'The Fool' by Warpaint

Warpaint have been around, in altered forms, since around 2004 and an EP released last year ignited the blogosphere with ravings of the supernatural stylings offered forth by the LA girl gang. And now an album exists, titled ‘The Fool’, with over half of the tracks spread out idly over five minutes yet this extensively straining sound is barely noticeable, such is the subdued ferocity that the album emits. The whole thing seeps by, filtered through layers and layers of archaic mysticism. Backing vocals embed themselves as an extra instrument, recalling choral command via spiritual rituals of old. The band drift between a Siouxsie-style gloom and a Sonic Youth growl with each passing refrain, two comparisons that still ring far from the peculiar display of euphonic whisperings on offer.

Each song title remains a short, sharp jab of similarity to the sound, in contrast to the winding, weaving, unwrapping five minute wanderings behind the name. ‘Shadows’ spins into life with the resonance of a warped record, crawling in the shade of a thick woodland cover beneath a starless eve. Opener ‘Warpaint’ strums a Joy Division throb with an unfathomably sultry vocal stride. ‘Undertow’ is a power play, with hints of seventies stoner rock and dashes of melodic indie pop combining to form an painstakingly sublime six minute ode to bitterness, where Warpaint drag you with them the whole way down.

The record treads the line between winter and autumn, full of frosty detachment and chilly uncertainty. ‘The Fool’ is an album to curl up with in the witching hour, with a fire burning and something hallucinogenic in the air. Warpaint are four females who have pursued a sound that unites melancholy and magic, beautifully haunting and enchanting in equal measure. In doing so, they have devised one of the albums of 2010, taking some sound supposedly sensual and slicing out all of the romantic lust until you’re left with an animalistic iciness.

Albums of 2010: #8: The Suburbs

#8: 'The Suburbs' by Arcade Fire

I often drift into High Fidelity mode and ponder my ever-shifting top albums of all time which generally consists of records of days-gone-by; Bowie, Stevie, Joy Division et al. A smattering of contenders post-2000 appear every once in a while but none more consistently than Arcade Fire and, more specifically, their mind blowing debut 'Funeral'. Easily my most revisited album of the decade about to pass, Arcade Fire came together as several odd Canadians to change indie pop into something more meaningful, creating concept albums that defy the logic of concept albums.

2010 bought their third offering, an album full of the heartbreak and heartwarmth of adolescence, catching that ethos of youth so precisely, it's almost impossible to see Win, Regine and friends as fully grown adults. 'The Suburbs' veers from chipper piano to sweepingly somber orchestral fluttering, taking the listener on a teenage dream of a journey from start to finish. The concept floats from the enclosed entrapment of the so called suburbs, dreaming of escape and excitement, to the trials and tribulations of a career driven lifestyle dicated within 'We Used To Wait', where a longing for a more secure and restless time is pumped out via new wave chords and a subdued piano piece.

Arcade Fire manage to weave between genre landmarks, from the 'Heroes' sound-a-like of 'Half Light II (No Celebration)' to the laidback Americana musings of 'Wasted Hours', whilst some form of indie electro dances about on 'Sprawl II', ending up with a style and sound echoing a pot-head Blondie. Here lies the ultimate success of 'The Suburbs', with 16 tracks somehow managing to sound brisk, fresh and breezy whilst summing up every youthful triumph, mistake, opportunity and experience, using a veritable smorgasbord of sounds, instruments and ideas in order to reach the widest range of recipients, diving headfirst into their brain and yanking on all of the musical memories until something hurts.

Arcade Fire are a group with their wits about them, crafting three modern and intelligent albums that hark back whilst evoking utter emotion with an unexplainable ease. And on top of all this, they work with numerous charities, gig incessantly and manage to create videos that interact with your location and push the boundaries of what is possible with technology, music and visuals. Arcade Fire have ruled the noughties with a soft and gentle touch; it is difficult to see where else they can go, but it will be damned exciting to watch them wander.