Local music fans now have three options to listen to 16 million songs in Spotify’s music library. It’s free with ads aired between tracks, $6.99 per month ads-free and $11.99 per month for the premium service which includes the ability to listen to music via mobile devices.

Rival Rdio offers an excellent service (earworm review here) but Spotify’s arrival in the local market looks set to raise awareness and boost the use of music streaming services in Australia.

Existing offerings like JB Hi-Fi’s Music Now and Sony’s Music Unlimited haven’t cut through to the mass consumer market. MOG plans to launch its Australian service via a Telstra partnership in Australian soon.

There will be a full earworm review of Spotify soon plus an interview with the Australian division of Spotify about their plans here.

Meanwhile, here’s a short earworm Spotify playlist featuring songs called Australia.

Warning: contains traces of Jonas Brothers.

Click here to view the embedded video.

Lisa Kaplan is the pianist for contemporary music group eighth blackbird, who are in Melbourne to act as the central drawcard for the festival. At this moment, she was trying to explain what a ‘phase’ was, and what it meant for Steve Reich’s music. She paused for a moment, and laughed. A phase, she explained, is an easy thing to recognise when you hear it, but difficult to summarise simply.

Instead, Kaplan placed her two palms together, fingers outstretched, left wrist facing the audience. Then, she slowly moved the fingers of one hand out from behind the other. At first, there were five fingers in profile. Then, ten slowly emerged. Then ten became five again.

This was a phase. This was Steve Reich.

It is no small achievement to have a composer like Reich visit Melbourne for the Metropolis festival. Reich, according to The Guardian, is one of “a handful of living composers who can legitimately claim to have altered the direction of musical history.” Along with Phillip Glass and Terry Riley, he was instrumental in forming what is now known as minimalist music, and more importantly, in pushing the classical world beyond the twelve-tone composition it had been fastened to for so long.

Reich’s epochal moment as a composer — perhaps minimalism’s moment, too — came in 1965, when he was sitting in front of two tape decks cued with a recording of Brother Walter, a Pentecostal preacher, delivering a particularly forceful sermon. Reich’s intention, so the story goes, was to cut rapidly from one recording of Brother Walter to the other, creating a shift from left to right. “It’s gonna rain!” was Brother Walter’s selected phrase.

But Reich had lined the tapes up incorrectly, and when he hit play, he discovered that they were slightly out of sync, and one was going moderately faster than the other: “It’s gonna-gonna rain-rain it’s-it’s gonna-gonna-gonna rain-rain-rain!”

Click here to view the embedded video.

Phasing became a kind of musical signature, or intellectual hallmark for Steve Reich, as much of a symbol of the man and his music as the baseball cap he is apparently never seen without. Beyond Reich’s early tape music like It’s Gonna Rain, the logic of the mis-timed tapes plays out on a broader scale. While only one piece performed at the concert was strictly phase music (1971’s Drumming), Reich’s fascination with the time and space of music framed the whole concert.

This is what Kaplan was trying to demonstrate with her finger silhouettes: that Reich’s music multiplies and turns in on itself in equal measure. Take, for example, Clapping Music (1972), which Reich himself and percussionist Eugene Ughetti opened the evening with. Reich is keen to emphasise that Clapping is not a phase, but rather a row (like primary school performances of Row, Row, Row Your Boat), where the music shifts in more measurable chunks than in a phase. Yet the same logic applies: the music turns in on itself, creating a hypnotic space of musical texture solely between the rhythms of two performer’s claps.

This was an exceptional evening of music. All of Reich’s pieces were performed by clearly top-tier musicians — a mixture of eighth blackbird members and Melbourne Symphony Orchestra regulars — and the evening was programmed and executed immaculately. The weaker part of the programme came after interval, which featured Reich in conversation with three members of eighth blackbird, who are clearly better musicians than they are interlocutors. Still, Reich himself was engaging and insightful, even if a third party would have been better placed to lead proceedings.

The centrepiece of the evening, however, was Reich’s Different Trains (1988), a three-movement piece for string quartet and tape that ended the first half of the programme. The Grammy Award winning composition deals with dark and complicated material, and in a sense is one of Reich’s darkest and most complicated pieces (only perhaps outstripped in these stakes by his grim WTC 9/11).

Click here to view the embedded video.

Different Trains is at once personal and incomprehensible: it is, in a sense, a reflection on Reich’s own train journeys as a child, visiting his separated parents in New York and Los Angeles. In the first movement, America — Before the War, he uses recordings of his governess and a train porter to structure the piece, just as in It’s Gonna Rain. But this time, the recordings sit alongside played music and other recorded sounds (train whistles and sirens), with the string quartet picking up on melodic snatches of Reich’s taped interview phrases. They take up their brief melodies here and there — From Chi-cago. From Chi-cago to New Yo-ork — playing with and without the voices superimposed on top.

The piece is also Reich’s reflection that, as a Jew, if he had been in Europe he “would have been taking very different trains,” as he is fond of saying in interviews. The second and third movements (Europe — During the War and After the War) concentrate on this idea. Instead of his governess, we hear three Holocaust survivors, with far more disturbing phrases, like “they tattooed a number on our arm”, and “black crows invaded our country”.

The way that the string quartet takes up on these phrases is extraordinary. Each time a new phrase is introduced, it is captured by one of the string instruments and repeated wordlessly. Thus in Different Trains, we can most clearly glimpse the power of Steve Reich’s music: these ideas, these horrible events that are too powerful to speak directly to, are consumed by the repetitious structures of the string quartet, each word folding into the array but not being stripped of meaning. Through these phases, these repetitions of semi-abstract vocal snatches as spoken by Cello, or by Viola, we have the meaning fed back to us, interacting with each element to form something else entirely.

These are the fingers of Kaplan’s hands, moving from five digits to ten and back again. This is the genius of Reich: we can clearly hear the Cello calling “black crows” long after the recording of the survivor’s voice has stepped back from the piece. In Reich’s music, shadows emerge from patterns.

When, at the end of the evening, it was mentioned that Reich’s current project is inspired by two Radiohead songs, it could not have been more appropriate.

The two songs? Everything in its Right Place and Jigsaw Falling Into Place. Of course. That’s Steve Reich.

Daniel Golding is an academic, critic, and cultural commentator. He is currently undertaking a Ph.D. in the School of Culture and Communication at the University of Melbourne. Daniel writes commentary on videogames and gaming culture for Crikey. 

He also regularly writes for Hyper Magazine, and has also been published in PC PowerPlay, The Conversation, Kill Your Darlings, Kotaku, The Drum and IGN.

How do new offerings from Bruce Springsteen, The Shins, The Wedding Present and Deep Sea Arcade all fare?

Hear a compilation of songs from these albums on a Crikey earworm playlist via the RDIO music streaming service here.

Bruce Springsteen: Wrecking Ball [Sony Columbia]

Hey nonny…no. What a disappointment. Wrecking Ball’s release was presaged with much publicity ensuring listeners knew this was Springsteen’s protest album against those evil capitalist types who’ve robbed and ruined his beloved USA. The Boss was mad as hell and he’s wasn’t going to take it any more. It sounded promising. So it’s such a shame Springsteen has taken a horrible musical misstep that undermines Wrecking Ball at most turns. He’s decided he’s Irish. This isn’t a new development. 2006’s We Shall Overcome: The Seeger Sessions and 2007’s Live In Dublin set also showcased Springsteen’s newfound fondness for fiddles, banjos and accordions. It’ll undoubtedly play well on the jukeboxes of Irish-American pubs everywhere (do Irish-American pubs still have jukeboxes?) but leaves those not in touch with their inner Irish rebel rather cold. On the plus side, lead single and first song here, We Take Care Of Our Own, effectively mimics Born In The USA-era Bruce Springsteen and its aim against government indifference is true. And on the few occasions Wrecking Ball deviates from its tub-thumping folksiness – Rocky Ground evens features a rap by backing singer Michelle Moore and This Depression is nicely understated – there’s glimpses of how Wrecking Ball could have steered clear of bludgeoning bombast to provide a more affecting portrait of the American everyman and woman’s battle with harsh economic times.

earworms: We Take Care Of Our Own, Rocky Ground

★★★★★

Click here to view the embedded video.

The Shins: Port Of Morrow [Aural Apothecary/Columbia]

Oh, converted world. The Shins are back. Kind of. Singer-songwriter James Mercer is the last man standing having ditched his erstwhile bandmates. Port Of Morrow, then, is a solo album in all but name. You’d be hard pressed to tell the difference. First single Simple Song is the kind of *ahem* simple song with sage life advice The Shins have long excelled at (“I know that things can really get rough/When you go it alone/Don’t go thinking you gotta be tough/And play like a stone”). The Rifle’s Spiral and No Way Down sound like excellent offcuts from Mercer’s Broken Bells team-up with uber-producer Danger Mouse. Bait And Switch even adds a touch of 1950s beat-bop to the mix. By penultimate song, 40 Mark Strasse, Mercer’s winsome ways have worn a little thin but the best of Port Of Morrow still shines alongside The Shins’ finest efforts. Four albums in The Shins are unlikely to “change your life” but Mercer and whoever’s in the band at the moment are still more than capable of knocking out winning catchy pop songs that reveal more of their charms with each listen.

earworms: The Rifle’s Spiral, Simple Song, Bait And Switch

★★★★★

Click here to view the embedded video.

The Wedding Present: Valentina [Scopitones]

Leeds lad, now fiftysomething man, David Gedge has helmed The Wedding Present since the mid-1980s save for a late 1990s/early noughties dalliance with his Cinerama project. Like The Shins, every band member has been replaced. Several times in The Wedding Present’s case. Gedge reckons it keeps things fresh. Perhaps it’s for the best because one thing that’s never changed is Gedge’s lyrical preoccupation with everyday love and heartbreak. Nobody pens better gritty guitar-churning songs about how we all act towards the objects of our affections and desires. But is a ninth album really necessary? Possibly not but when Valentina clicks into gear tracks like You Jane, Back A Bit…Stop and Deer Caught In The Headlights stand proud with their late 1980s/early 1990s peak. Gedge also still has a winning way with pithy one-liners and Your Dead‘s “You appal me…OK, call me” sums up Valentina‘s world view. The band’s local fans will get a chance to judge for themselves whether their later songs match their glory days when The Wedding Present visit Australia to tour for the first time soon. They’ll play their brilliant 1991 third album Seamonsters in full but Valentina shows The Wedding Present’s present also sounds pretty damn good.

earworms: You’re Dead, You Jane, Back A Bit…Stop!, Deer Caught In The Headlights

★★★★★

Click here to view the embedded video.

Deep Sea Arcade: Outlands [Ivy League Records]

Sydney band Deep Sea Arcade’s debut album channels the spirit of 1990s Britpop (the good stuff like Supergrass) via Kasabian-type loops. It’s the kind of sound that works for Tame Impala too. Any fears that Outlands will be a derivative retro mess though are quickly dispelled with Deep Sea Arcade throwing around enough of their own woozy psychedelic pop thrills to engage during the early triple sonic punch of the opening title track Outlands, Seen No Right and Girls. It’s only when energy levels flag somewhat on the more laid-back Together and Ride that Deep Sea Arcade lose their way a little but – ultimately and especially on the upbeat numbers – this is a blisteringly assured set of songs.

earworms: Seen No Right, Girls, Steam, Lonely In Your Arms

★★★★★

Click here to view the embedded video.

Tindersticks: The Something Rain [Lucky Dog]

Some bands arrive fully formed. Their debut albums are such a perfect distillation of their aesthetic they quickly suffer the curse of diminishing returns on subsequent releases. Such is Tindersticks’ fate.

The Nottingham troubadours’ 1993 first set, Tindersticks (aka Tindersticks I), so beautifully captured their late-night smokey tales of whisky soaked loves and regrets that subsequent efforts were effectively rendered redundant.

Although 1995′s confusion-inducing titled Tindersticks (aka Tinderstick II) follow-up found a wider audience and its Tiny Tears memorably accompanied one of The Sopranos‘ most pivotal scenes.

After that, it was difficult for any but the utterly devoted to feel they really needed another Tindersticks album. Six albums and nearly 20 years since their second effort have slipped by without much fuss.

Which makes album number nine, The Something Rain, a pleasant surprise. Well – it’s hardly pleasant, as such. Things in Tindersticks world seldom are.

First up, the 9-minute spoken word Chocolate (narrated by pianist David Boulter rather than singer Stuart Staples) doesn’t exactly welcome anyone other than the diehards with its tale of a painter/decorator’s successful score — first on the pool table and ultimately in the bedroom — on a pub night out.

But lines like “She even agreed On Her Majesty’s Secret Service was the best Bond film…if you accept it as a whole and not just get hung up about George Lazenby” show The Something Rain has a certain playfulness rather than just dour observations about life. A late night twist in the tale also surprises.

And after that, Tindersticks hit a rich seam of form.

This Fire Of Autumn has Staples and guest vocalist Gina Foster recapturing some of the magic that illuminated 1995′s Travelling Light duet with Carla Torgerson. Female co-vocalists often bring out the best in Staples’s deep and deadpan baritone slur. Slippin’ Shoes is almost jaunty. Frozen‘s insistent shuffling quick beat-laden trip with its repeated “If I could only hold you” refrain is up there among Tindersticks’ finer moments.

Tindersticks are still an acquired taste. But The Something Rain snuggles nicely alongside their first two albums as perfect late night listening material.

And if those first two Tindersticks exemplified a Sean Connery Bond-ian high mark, The Something Rain could be their OHMSS equivalent (second track Show Me Everything even cheekily embeds composer John Barry’s distinctive OHMSS strings arrangement in its midst).

Who knows? Maybe next time they may even deliver a Daniel Craig/Casino Royale-like return to absolute best form. It’d be better than a Roger Moore-style slide into old age irrelevance.

earworms: Show Me Everything, This Fire Of Autumn, Slippin’ Shoes, Frozen

★★★★★

Click here to view the embedded video.

Playlists are often used to try to get someone to love the compiler so what does Obama’s playlist reveal about his need for voters to at least like him? Really, really like him.

Not much. Listening to the 29-song strong  – too long! — playlist it’s apparent these truly are “picks by the campaign staff – including a few of President Obama’s favorites” rather than the US Commander-in-Chief’s personal choices. It’s a politically-savvy playlist by committee designed not to upset the vast majority of middle America. Much like Obama’s presidency to date, cynics may claim.

There’s nothing from the unseemly and potentially upsetting hippity-hoppity brigade for starters.

Genuine classics (Aretha Franklin’s cover of The Band’s The Weight, Al Green’s Lets Stay Together, Green Onions by Booker T & The MGs) nestle uncomfortably among lesser – much lesser – tracks by the likes of former Hootie & The Blowfish singer Darius Rucker.

(Someone inexplicably believes Darius Ruckers is worthy of two inclusions here. His ‘always look on the bright side of life’ This, for example, is vomit-inducing stuff with Rucker ruminating on how his misfortunes were all for the best really ‘cos he’s such a lucky man to have met his wife. By the time he’s noting “How I cried when my mama passed away/But now I’ve got an angel looking out for me today” listeners may wonder what’s next: “Lost my job/Lost my house/But met you at the soup kitchen”?)

Lyrically, everywhere, it’s all mostly clichéd, broad-stroke stuff about “standing up”, “rising up”, “living dreams” and – oh yes – “hope”. Because hope is important.

The inclusion of U2’s Even Better Than The Real Thing isn’t exactly Obama’s (or more likely, his people’s) Born In The USA misinterpretation of a song moment but it’s a misstep since it’s basically about phony fakes. Its opening “Give me one more chance and you’ll be satisfied” line doesn’t do much to dispel perceived widespread disappointment at Obama’s first term as president either.

And, while on the subject of The Boss, it’s Bruce Springsteen who shows other included comparative youngsters like Arcade Fire and Wilco how to put together a brilliantly emotive flag-waver. We Take Care Of Our Own, from his forthcoming Wrecking Ball album –- despite taking potshots at US government ineffectiveness over Hurricane Katrina (non)rescue efforts – will have even many non-American listeners ready to declare unswerving allegiance to Uncle Sam.

In some ways, the playlist is the perfect election campaign soundtrack. It’s a long hard slog that leaves everyone feeling just a little sullied by compromises made along the way.

At least No Nostalgia by Agesandages definitely sounds like the kind of song Obama’s travelling election campaign team can sing together on the campaign bus, Tiny Dancer style.

When Ricky Martin’s mid-compilation arrival perks things up considerably it’s a bad sign.

How’s that hopey-changey stuff working out for ya?

Click here to view the embedded video.

Spotify is not currently available in Australia. Listen to Barack Obama’s full election campaign playlist via Rdio HERE.

Houston’s far too early death at the age of 48 is terribly sad for her family and friends. It’s been more surprising to witness the overblown media reaction coupled with hitherto unknown Whitney Houston fans – who’ve never uttered a peep about her for 20 years or so – publicly declaring how bereft they feel.

As Whitney Houston’s greatest hits album surged to the top of Apple’s iTunes charts and was dug out of bargain bins by the few remaining so-called record stores *ahem* everywhere you had to wonder: if those buying were such big Whitney Houston fans before her death wouldn’t they have these songs already?

(Interestingly, Apple was slightly more restrained in promoting Houston’s music to buy via iTunes compared to the comparatively indecent haste they rushed to flog Amy Winehouse’s back catalogue when she died last year. At least, this time, Apple waited until Houston’s body had left the premises where it’d been found.)

The press coverage of Houston’s death has been fascinating though. Not the actual content of course, but its sheer vast scale.

Whitney Houston was an astoundingly talented singer. Nobody can deny that. However, for better or for worse – mostly for worse – she pioneered an era of mainstream pop music whereby the singer not the song took precedence. But it’s churlish to blame her for the likes of Mariah Carey. Three of Whitney’s songs were actually bearable.

There’s two main reasons for the extensive coverage and ongoing scramble to cover Whitney’s death. Houston didn’t die away from the eyes, if not ears, of the showbiz in-crowd. She didn’t expire in a suburb of Dullsville, USA somewhere but in Los Angeles as the US music industry gathered to stage the 2012 Grammy Awards. What better setting for an outpouring of public mourning and tributes from music industry heavyweights?

Click here to view the embedded video.

But perhaps more importantly, Houston became a famous singer at a time – the 1980s particularly – when music still dominated mainstream entertainment and listening choices were still somewhat restricted. There was no escaping Whitney Houston. Now, we can all easily listen to what we want when we want. This is a good thing.

Something – not just Whitney Houston – has been lost though.

Even non-Whitney Houston fans can feel pangs of nostalgia this week. After the other 1960s/70s/80s megastars that dominated the airwaves (how quaint) are all gone will the wider public care at all?

While everyone was waiting for global market giant Spotify to finally arrive in Australia, Rdio has quietly sneaked into the local marketplace with a fully-featured music streaming service of its own. Is it a case of ‘you snooze, you lose’ for Spotify?

Rdio (pronounced ‘are-dee-oh’ making it sound more like a rostered day off than anything to do with radio) certainly has some tech-savvy backers, with its founders Janus Friis and Niklas Zennstron also inventing Skype. Friis and Zennstrom were also responsible for the legally dubious –- in its early days, at least — music file-sharing site Kazaa.

All four major labels – Universal, Sony, EMI and Warner Music – support Rdio so its 12 million-plus songs catalogue is impressively vast. Users can listen to Rdio via the internet on computers/laptops, a separate desktop app or on an iPhone, iPod Touch, iPad or Android mobile phone.

It’s great to see a service arrive with all these listening options in place at the outset. Far too many rival music streaming services have launched here as an internet-only streaming service while promising mobile listening features which, alas, more often than not never eventuate.

Ease of use

Navigation through Rdio is fairly instinctive. An attractive onscreen layout welcomes users to dive right in and begin searching for their favourite artists and/or songs. You can listen to full albums, individual songs and build your own or listen to other Rdio users’ playlists. It’s fantastic for both listening to old favourites and finding some new gems.

I tested Rdio on an Apple iMac and 2^nd generation iPod Touch and also streamed music to my home hi-fi system – both from the Mac using Airfoil and iPod Touch using Airplay – via Airport Express. It all worked seamlessly.

Music quality was also very good. Rdio are a little cagey about their official streaming bit rate. It’s shaped according to internet connection speed and specific device used. Rdio states music will stream at 320 kbps (kilobytes per second) wherever possible. This is almost CD quality and indistinguishable from CDs to most ears. This approach seems to work well since Rdio very rarely suffered sound dropouts and there was no noticeable degradation in sound quality at any time.

Playlists can even be collaborative so friends on Rdio can add to compilations. Fun if you’re having a party at home, for example.

Pros

Rdio encourages social interaction within its eco-system. Users can follow each other and listen in on playlists. Spotify has annoyed some with its official Facebook partnership forcing new subscribers to also sign up for a Facebook account. (Although it is possible to opt-in to link Rdio with Facebook if you’re comfortable with the social network).

With the major label backing most mainstream artists are well represented. There are still a couple of gaps in the service: notorious holdouts The Beatles and Led Zeppelin to name but two are still trying to sell, not stream, albums. That’s not Rdio’s fault – it’s the same situation on any available legal music streaming service.

Rdio: even better that the real thing?

In fact, one of Rdio’s neatest features is how it handles albums it doesn’t have permission to stream. Rather than pretend an unavailable album doesn’t exist it still lists all albums in an artist’s discography (if the artist has at least one album available via Rdio) so at least you’re aware of what’s missing (and can find alternative means to listen if desperate). Any unavailable album has its artwork slightly faded out so it’s clear what’s playable at a glance.

Albums are handily grouped into ‘new release’ and ‘what’s hot’ categories so it’s easy to browse when in the mood to listen to something different. Strangely, there’s no ability to cluster albums via genre classification. However, as you use Rdio the system learns which types of music you listen to and proffers recommendations based on listening habits.

Do you vaguely recall the fuss Apple made about its $34.99-per-year iTunes Match offering enabling listeners to access their music on the go via the cloud? Well, you can sync your iTunes library to Rdio and access your music via the cloud as part of Rdio’s service. Only the iTunes songs that are also available via Rdio will be synched and available via the cloud though. Rdio synched a none too shabby 85% of my 7,000-plus songs collection.

It’s all rather impressive. The ability to sync playlists or full albums to be available to listen to anytime offline – therefore not quickly chewing through mobile broadband limits – is another incredibly useful feature.

Cons

Nothing’s perfect – there are flaws. Rdio lists all international versions of albums which can lead to confusion if four or five versions of the same album are listed. Especially when some of these international versions, mostly with the same track listing, are accessible in Australia while others aren’t. It unnecessarily clutters the screen and somebody at Rdio should make it a priority to tidy this up.

Also, occasionally, a song that is accessible via computer is not available to be synced offline to a mobile listening device. This is presumably due to licence restrictions for some individual tracks but it’d be nice to receive some onscreen notification of this when compiling playlists on computer/laptop rather than only finding out when you try unsuccessfully to play those songs on your iPhone/iPod Touch/iPad/Android Phone.

Most truly independent music labels (i.e. the ones not owned in some way by the majors) also don’t have their back catalogue available via Rdio.

The Verdict

Rdio: Spotify killer?

Rdio is an extremely reliable, legal streaming service for music fans. It’s a fantastic way to ‘try before you buy’ or just listen to songs by artists whose full album you’d never have bought anyway. At least they’ll get some revenue (there have been some complaints from artists about royalty rates but that’s another article for another day).

A free one-week Rdio trial is available –- try it here — with monthly subscriptions costing $8.90 per month for web only access or $12.90 per month all inclusive for additional access via mobile devices. $12.90 per month is a reasonable price to pay for access to new (or indeed old) music from anywhere. It’s less than the cost of one new release physical – or digital download – album per month.

(Warning! Do not subscribe to Rdio from inside the iPhone/iPod Touch app – for some reason the monthly subscription costs a more expensive $20.99 per month from there.)

Australia finally has access to a legal world-class music streaming service.

Your move, Spotify.

★★★★★

Listen to a Crikey earworm Rdio playlist HERE featuring songs from albums reviewed.

Lana Del Rey: Born To Die [Universal]

The critical backlash against Lana Del Rey began even before her debut album Born To Die arrived.

Hipsters initially bewitched by the immediately beguiling Video Games felt betrayed when it became clear her puffy-lipped persona and – no! – even her name were invented. Much internet scorn was poured on the artist formerly known as Lizzie Grant.

Pretty ironic considering many hipsters’ daily posturing is utterly contrived. If you’re going to be appalled at musicians inventing a character to inhabit better not listen to any David Bowie – to name but one – then.

So, judging Born To Die purely on the music does it deliver the goods? Well, not quite. It’s a perfectly passable pop album – which means you’ve already heard the best songs here, namely Video Games and Born To Die. Although Blue Jeans comes closest to replicating Video Games’ smooth moves.

As for the rest, Diet Mountain Dew and Summertime Sadness are among the best while the nadir is Radio with Lana Del Rey dropping F-bombs all over the joint and sounding neither big or clever. It’s like listening to a posh person trying to be street. Excruciating.

In fact, any time she tries to rap it’s awful. National Anthem is almost unlistenable and lyrics like “God, you’re so handsome/take me to the Hamptons” hardly help her cause.

Ultimately though, most of Born To Die is inoffensive fare. It’s pleasant enough but it’s hard to escape the feeling Lana Del Rey is the Instagram of pop.

Sure, she’s this year’s model but unless she evolves quickly and develops a discernible personality beyond the pout everyone will have moved on to the next big thing by this time next year.

Perhaps David Bowie can provide some advice on how to face some ch-ch-changes?

earworms: Video Games, Born To Die, Blue Jeans

★★★★★

Click here to view the embedded video.

Leonard Cohen: Old Ideas [Sony]

Sometimes, crime pays. Old Ideas, Leonard Cohen’s first album in eight years, would never have existed if his accountant hadn’t pilfered money from him, forcing Cohen out of self-imposed exile and retirement in a Zen monastery.

Leonard’s loss is our gain.

You know what you’re going to get with a Leonard Cohen album – melancholic existential contemplation – and Old Ideas is no different. This is not a complaint.

But it’s a stroke of quiet genius for Old Ideas’ opening gambit Going Home to have Cohen (or is it God?) dub “Leonard” a “lazy bastard in a suit”. It draws listeners in with nice dash of laughing Len’s self-deprecating humour.

Cohen is now 77 years old so it’s hardly surprising that Old Ideas is mostly preoccupied with mortality. Sparse, but never leaden, arrangements allow the words to shine. And Cohen has always been about the words.

Darkness sheds light on his state of mind: “I’ve got no future/I know my days are few/The present’s not that pleasant/Just a lot of things to do”. Amen sees Cohen seek reassurance from a lover to “tell me again” that he’s needed “when the angels are panting and scratching at the door”.

It’s not a set of songs for parties then but its lighter moments – most notably Going Home and the closing Different Sides (wherein Cohen complains to another lover “You want to change the way I make love but I want to leave it alone” – he’s 77, after all!) – make its darker aspects palatable and – when in the right (wrong?) frame of mind – rather cathartic.

Hallelujah.

earworms: Going Home, Amen, The Darkness, Lullaby, Different Sides

★★★★★

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Cloud Nothings: Attack On Memory [Carpark Records]

Attack On Memory is a thumping addition to cult producer Steve Albini’s CV. Nobody’s better at capturing raw drum and guitar sounds.

Such is Albini’s dedication to not sugarcoating production, he prefers the moniker ‘recording engineer’. He’s the man (but not The Man) for bands wanting to capture their live sound in the studio.

As for the music, Cloud Nothings do their utmost to dissuade casual listeners from venturing further. On opener No Future/No Past Dylan Baldi embodies the worst mewling aspects of, say, The Vines’ so-called singer Craig Nicholl.

Second track, the 9-minute Wasted Days, is immense, but its repetitive clattering guitar outro should have bookended proceedings.

But at its best — with Fall In and Stay Useless prime examples — this is a fat slab of meaty pop-hooked grungy rock that  – as Our Plans posits — will “never get old”.

earworms: Fall In, Stay Useless, Our Plans

★★★★★

Click here to view the embedded video.