RACHEL GOODRICH

Posted by Brianna - filed in Events

brakes3

BrakesBrakesBrakes || Listen || Watch

Brighton-based supergroup Brakes impress once again with this extraordinary blast of 60s-tinged rock’n'roll. Referencing The Beatles, The Byrds, Ride and Smashing Pumpkins, the quartet’s third LP is a riotous journey through the last four decades of left-field guitar-pop. From the wry psych-rock of ‘Don’t Take Me To Space(Man)’ to the catchy bubblegum of ‘Oh! Forever’, it’s a delightfullt diverse indie gem. Formed in 2003 by Thomas and Alex White (The Electric Soft Parade), Eamon Hamilton (British Sea Power) and Marc Beatty (The Tenderfoot), Brakes released their debut album, Give Blood, in 2005 to widespread critical acclaim. Album of the year in Rough Trade’s shops, it was a fine introduction to the band. Now signed to local South Coast imprint Fat Cat (home to Frightened Rabbit and The Balky Mule), the quartet continues to go from strength to strength. A furious blend of folk, punk, country, grunge, pop and soul, Touchdown is Brakes’ most well rounded album to date. Bold, intelligent and enjoyable, it’s the work of a band operating at the peak of its creative powers. Both fiercely original and knowingly referential, it has the makings of a contemporary Brit-rock classic. – Rock ‘N Reel

With:
EzraFurman_theHarpoons

Ezra Furman & The Harpoons || Listen

If you’re Ezra Furman, you’re right out of college and the man in the grey suit threatens to steal your soul, so you fend off encroaching suburbia with a batch of new tunes. On his second album of jittery, willfully naive folk-punk, Furman plays the alienated romantic geek, employing a wobbly sense of pitch to better effect than anyone since the early Violent Femmes. “We Should Fight,” the great howling mess of an opener, sets the tone, all raw guitars and protestations of uncompromising humanity. The rest of the songs—alternating between strident rockers and swooning ballads—are overwrought, goofy, achingly sincere and totally original. Even his failures are charmingly his own, like the damaged sea chantey that erupts in the middle of “The Dishwasher,” an otherwise meandering folk ballad. Real life will intrude soon enough for Furman. Thankfully, he appears committed to spending the interim bashing out songs, working on his poet-laureate credentials and celebrating the sheer, giddy wonder of being young and alive. – Paste Magazine

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Rachel Goodrich