veruca salt torn apart
(Alexandra Pollard), Assisted by veteran producer John Congleton (St Vincent, John Grant), he channels the spirit of David Bowie and Iggy Pop. is itching on the roof of my houses(? ) It’s much sweeter now that we’re friends again. (Roisin O'Connor), This is Del Rey at her most assertive – personally, if not politically. (Adam White), Listening on headphones, I was reminded of the late French designer Janet Laverriere. That snare drum keeps a relentless, nerve-snapping pulse throughout, with Jacklin sounding more confident in her contradictions: at once yearning to comfort a lover she’s dumped and then, on “Head Alone”, declaring: “I don’t wanna be touched all the time/ I raised my body up to be mine.” Ah. Halloween day “We were so naive,” recalls Gordon. (Patrick Smith), The tones here are stark and bleak, compared to the claustrophobia of 2014’s Tomorrow’s Modern Boxes. Dave spends Psychodrama addressing issues caused by the generations who came before him. Nobody likes to read anything mean about themselves. Assisted by producer John Hill, whose previous credits include co-writing Portugal. And where better to dream than from the comfort of your own digs? But beneath its hazy synths and electronics are songs of endurance and inner peace, of settling after a flurry of activity. (Roisin O'Connor), This is an ambitious creation, meticulously crafted and assembled. It is, she says, “The Kinks meet the Second World War, or Bob Seger meets Enya.” Neither of those is a particularly accurate description, but they do at least fit the album’s refusal to loiter in any one genre. I’ve got to tell Nina to let that one go.”, Twenty-five years ago, the US band’s debut album sent them rocketing out of the Chicago underground and onto the main stage at Glastonbury... before it all fell apart. The pummelling force of We Are Not Your Kind should be enough to silence them – this may be one of the band’s most personal records, but the rage they capture is universally felt. Those who fell for Jacklin’s 2016 excellent debut, Don’t Let the Kids Win, will find a continuity of alternative attitude and vintage influences. (Roisin O'Connor), No one could accuse Lizzo of holding back. “Black”, the most recent single from the record, considers what that word means to different people around the world, as well as to Dave. (Alexandra Pollard), The album is packed with personal confessions for the fans – “Arianators” – to pick over. (Elisa Bray), In keeping with the relatively restrained guest spots, it’s heartening just how much Skepta has rejected overloading Ignorance is Bliss with high-profile producers, preferring instead to burrow into his own aesthetic. The downbeat “Once” forgoes easy Noel-bashing for a mournful glance at the years when the pair were still speaking (“I remember how you used to shine back then... but you only get to do it once”). A 27-track masterpiece, the album features the likes of Anderson .Paak, Little Dragon, David Lynch, and Solange, and serves up a hot, textural mix of hip-hop, psychedelia, funk, soul, jazz and electro. In 2013, Gordon and Post met for dinner in Los Angeles, where they both now live with their husbands and children. But then it wouldn’t be a Sheryl Crow album. “The patriarchy was firmly in place,” says Gordon. “We thought it would never end. After dark on But whether she’s pining for the return of a former love in the funky disco banger “Julien”, or singing about masturbating post-break-up in lead single “Party For One” (“I’ll be the one/ If you don’t care about me/ Making love to myself/ Back on my beat”), the vibe remains positively jubilant. This caused more conflict than it should have. “Gotta live for something besides yesterdays,” Gallagher snarls on “Be Still”. And something's stirring in the trunk of my car With Gordon’s brother, Jim Shapiro, joining on drums and Steve Lack on bass and the spoiled brat from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory lending her name, Veruca Salt went from pipe dream to living, hard-rocking entity. People were excited – these were songs you could sing to with heavy guitars.”. (Mark Beaumont), On Cage the Elephant’s fifth album, Social Cues, frontman Matt Shultz reacts to the breakdown of his marriage and the loss of three close friends. A cornucopia of instrumentation is woven into its brisk 42-minute yarn. Epic highlight “Electric Fire” and celestial album-closer “How Can a Head” capture Coyne at his most wistful. There’s a sax on “Sacrament” that’s loaded with longing, while the grunge-gospel stylings of “Merciless” offer ominous guitars and Collard’s reverent croons. Would they go with a song written by Gordon (as “Seether” was) or one by Post? We thought we’d never break up. (Roisin O'Connor), There’s more of a soul influence here – “HER Love”, the counterpoint to his 1994 track “I Used to Love HER”, benefits from the gospel-like vocals of Daniel Caesar and Dwele, while “Memories of Home” skitters over a muffled bass and Common’s recollections of his past – including an incident where he was molested by a family member. On the melancholy, gently strummed guitar and piano-led “Fall Asleep, Backseat”, Monds-Watson reflects on pretending to sleep as her parents make the painful decision to divorce. (Jack Shepherd), Two years after the release of his Mercury Prize-nominated debut Yesterday’s Gone, the south London hip-hop artist unveils its follow-up, Not Waving, But Drowning. There’s some of that, as vocalist Jason Williamson skewers documentary-makers who take advantage of the poor in “Kebab Spider” – “the skint get used in loo roll shoes” – but elsewhere this is a record that expands the idea of what Sleaford Mods could be. It’s no wonder she’s lent it to the likes of Perfume Genius, Drugdealer and Ariel Pink: it adds a touch of profundity to everything it meets. Backing singers Leisa Hans and Ashley Wilcoxson add texture to the grooving “Lo/Hi”, while the languid “Sit Around and Miss You” is Stealers Wheels by way of the Deep South. The Man’s mega-hit “Feel it Still”, the Kentucky-formed, Nashville-based Cage the Elephant remain faithful to their neo-soul influenced brand of garage rock but move to something darker and far more visceral. His own sharpest critic, he winks at the journalists who’ve called him glacial as he drops from remote, icy falsetto into a richly grained, deeper tone to ask: “Doesn’t it seem much warmer?” (Helen Brown), While he recognises his roots and includes plenty of nods to grime, AJ Tracey's magpie’s eye for a good melody or hook extends far beyond that. It was crazy. Perhaps this will put her at the top where she belongs.