Was there ever a band to generate such passionate fan adulation as Dropkick Murphys? Keeping up a chant of "Let's Go Murphys" for a good 10 minutes before there was any sign of the Boston seven-piece on the city's most famous stage, the Glasgow punks were in fine voice even before the raucous singalongs began.
“The boys are back and they’re looking for trouble.” So goes the opening chorus on Signed and Sealed in Blood, the eighth album from cult Celtic punks Dropkick Murphys. As battle cries go it’s a sight more rousing than the similar one by Thin Lizzy, belted out as it is by a choir of Hell’s Angels against a backdrop of squalling bagpipes.
Support bands tend to get short shrift, but it would be criminal not to give Evil Blizzard their due here. Made up of three bass guitarists with assorted effects pedals and a drummer who also sang, three members of the band were in pink pyjamas and wearing masks, while the fourth was in black leather and a Hawkwind hairdo. They produced industrial levels of noise around steady riffs and a variety of filthy bass sounds.
Even before listening to the third instalment of Green Day’s 2012 trilogy, it’s hard not to feel generously disposed towards it. Not only has poor Billie Joe recently had a stint in rehab, but after three quick-fire back-to-basics albums, few could deny their current work ethic is impressive.
There are, of course, others who refuse to join in the enthusiasm. Many accuse the California punks of being middle-aged fraudsters with pantomime songs. But what’s so wrong with 40-year-olds singing teen anthems? Surely, the issue is quality, not age.
It’s been a bumper year for fans of Public Image Ltd. John Lydon took his new version of the band out on the road and issued the This is PiL album. His former PiL colleagues Jah Wobble and Keith Levene reworked the landmark 1979 PiL album Metal Box live, as Metal Box in Dub. Now, the duo have re-cemented their relationship with Yin & Yang, their first new work together since co-writing Gary Clail’s “Beef (How Low Can You Go?)” in 1990.
The Blue Nile: A Walk Across The Rooftops, Hats
Graeme Thomson
The Blue Nile occupy a unique spot in the musical landscape. Formed in 1980 by Glasgow University graduates Paul Buchanan, Paul Joseph Moore and Robert Bell, four albums in 30 years suggests a certain neurotic creative sensibility which resulted in a pretty slim legacy but served the music well.
Julien Temple’s directing career has been struck seemingly stone-dead twice. After working with Malcolm McLaren and the Sex Pistols on The Great Rock’n’Roll Swindle (1979), then again after the flop big-budget British jazz musical Absolute Beginners (1986), he was made a notorious cinema untouchable in the UK. Exiled in Hollywood, he fell back on his parallel life as a landmark pop video auteur.
The concept album can be a tricky beast; Titus Andronicus’s 2010 epic The Monitor more so than most. How to follow up an album that loosely ties your frontman’s break-up to the American Civil War, complete with spoken-word interludes voiced by contemporary punk artists playing historical figures, in which rousing choruses bounce surprisingly out of 14-minute rock operas? The answer, as provided by Local Business, is that you don’t.
