Giant

Why did Herman Dune decide to name their fourth album 'Giant'? Perhaps it was simply because of its size - at 16 tracks and 55 minutes, it does feel like a bit of a giant, especially by my own attention-deficient standards.

But the tracks themselves aren't 'giant' in the usual musical sense of that word. If you told me that you'd written a 'giant' song, I'd expect some kind of Rush-esque musical odyssey, with synthesisers and duelling solos and histrionics fireworking out of every orifice. I wouldn't expect something like 1-2-3/Apple Tree, a relatively simple acoustic ditty with a charming reprise, a catchy tune, and not much else.

That wasn't meant as an insult - this is actually one of my favourite songs at the moment

It's worth mentioning that the album's title is also one of its constituents. Giant is track 13 of 16 on Giant, but to be honest, I'm not entirely sure what the song is supposed to be about. The lyrics are sung by a man stood on a cliff as an ant climbs up his leg; it's vague, impressionistic stuff, and the only meaning I can glean from it is the notion that, relatively speaking, everyone is simultaneously a giant and a dwarf. It just depends on the perspective, the point of view.

Mining for Misery

In previous blog posts, I've made no secret of my fondness for seriously sad music - nothing fires me up, aurally speaking, like a shot or two of depresso. With this in mind, you can imagine how delighted I was to discover, amongst the music I got for Christmas this year, not one but two incredibly sombre songs about coal mining.

I must admit, this wasn't a subject I would previously have cared to hear many songs about. I'm used to depressing songs about love and depressing songs about death, but Brassed Off aside, I've been rather ignorant of the 'Colliery Miserabilia' sub-genre until now. Still, it's not hard to see how fruitful a topic mining might be for musicians; not only was the work itself presumably pretty depressing, you've also got the equally unhappy matter of pit closures to sink your songwriting teeth into.

Don't Call it a Classic

Have you ever picked up an issue of Q magazine? I used to be something of a regular reader, and while I eventually got sick of reading features about Oasis, I must admit that the mag's album reviews informed many of my early purchases. For example, I bought Blinking Lights and Other Revelations solely on Q's recommendation, and that was the beginning of a major love affair with the Eels and their music.

Still, even in those days, I did have one problem with Q's reviews, and it concerned their 5-star rating system. As in many other publications, every Q album review was accompanied by a score of 1 to 5 stars; 4-star albums were further decorated with a little 'Q Recommends' badge, while the rare 5-star albums got a little gold rectangle that said 'Q Classic'.

And therein lies my complaint. For me, the word 'classic' means more than just 'really good'; it denotes a work that has weathered trends, stood the test of time, and proven its exceptional qualities by defining (or redefining) the boundaries of its genre.

Under the Western Freeway

Happy New Year, everybody! I've decided to start 2015 in much the same way as I began 2014: with an in-depth blog post about a rather depressing album. Last year, it was Mogwai's Come On Die Young; this year, it's Under the Western Freeway by Grandaddy. Let's jump in, shall we?

Like The Bends and His 'n' Hers, Grandaddy's first album is a '90s classic that was quickly overshadowed by its immediate sequel. I'm not going to argue that Under the Western Freeway is a magnum-er opus than The Sophtware Slump, but to see it as a mere warm-up would be to greatly underestimate its value.

New Year Wishes

Here we are, then: the last day of 2014. I've already weighed and measured the best albums of this year, so now it's time to look into the future, to wonder what musical marvels 2015 might have in store for us.

Now, we already have a few dead certs. Modest Mouse, for example, have assured us that they will be releasing a new album next year, as have The Decemberists. But today's blog post isn't concerned with these releases; instead, it's all about speculation, the unconfirmed classics of 2015.

Here, then, are 5 artists that I'd really, really like to hear more from in the next 12 months. As far as I'm aware, none of these bands have given any indication that new work is on the way, but hey, if you're going to indulge in a little wishful thinking, the 31st of December seems like an opportune time for it.

The Magnetic Fields

Wishful-O-Meter: 2/5

It doesn't seem too optimistic to hope for a new MF album in 2015. In fact, you might even say we're due one - Distortion came out in 2008, Realism in 2010, and Love at the Bottom of the Sea in 2012, so if Stephin Merritt keeps up this every-other-year workrate, there should be an extra album in the MF discography by this time next year. Failing that, I'd settle for some Merritt solo action, or another 6ths album.

Tindersticks

Wishful-O-Meter: 3/5

Wikipedia may count 2013's Across Six Leap Years - the latest Tindersticks release - as a studio album, but I don't. It was more of a career retrospective, and while it's cool that Staples et al bothered to re-record all of their old hits, I'm still waiting for a proper follow-up to The Something Rain (which came out all the way back in early 2012). Bonus points if the new one is on a par with The Hungry Saw - it's not my #1 favourite 'Sticks album, but demanding something as good as Tindersticks II at this stage just seems churlish.

Iron Maiden

Wishful-O-Meter: 1/5

If West Ham United's most famous fans fail to release a new album in 2015, this will be the longest Maiden drought the world has endured since the band's eponymous first album was released in 1980. The Final Frontier was almost four and a half years ago now, and so it seems perfectly reasonable to expect a follow-up before Christmas comes 'round again.

Tilly and the Wall

Wishful-O-Meter: 4/5

Things have been disquietingly, uh, quiet in the Tilly camp of late. Their official website still features 'upcoming' tour dates from June 2013, and nobody seems to have heard much of anything from them since Heavy Mood came out. Still, a boy can dream...

Guillemots

Wishful-O-Meter: 1/5...but also 5/5

"More and more gardens are coming into bloom" said Fyfe Dangerfield in a news post on the Guillemots website back in June. On Summer Island, the follow-up to 2012's springtimey Hello Land!, is now two years and three months overdue, and while Fyfe and Co are supposedly still working on it, we're still waiting for some kind of sign that it's nearing completion.

As you can see, I've given this release two completely opposite wishful ratings: a 1 because they can't possibly need another whole year on this, and a 5 because it's beginning to seem like this album will never see the light of day. Time will tell, I suppose, but one thing's for sure: if they continue at this rate then the seasonal quadrilogy that they promised us back in 2012 won't be complete until some time in 2019.

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So that's it for this year! I'll maybe revisit this list in December '15 and see how many (if any) of my wishes came true. In the meantime, have a happy new year and cross your fingers for some great music in the months to come!