Paolo Nutini - These Streets

What the fuck was Paolo Nutini doing at a David Sneddon concert? Which is where he was 'discovered' - given the opportunity to clamber on stage and fill some time in front of a baying crowd of Fame Academy fans while Sneddon, rock God-like, was trying to find his way to the venue (come to think of it, what was anyone doing there?). Or maybe that's an urban myth I'm helping to perpetuate via the interweb. Anyway, These Streets. It shows a lot of promise, could well be Marvin Gaye having rough sex with Terence Trent D'arby (indeed, Loving You is Let's Get It On) and much is in the silky smooth singer songwritery style of the hit Last Request: a combination of gravelly soul, shuffling rhythm and haunting lyrics. It avoids - just, I should hastily add - heading into James Blunt territory, bordering this side of the best bits (ie, not the kiddies film soundtrack) of Jack Johnson. Nutini has the voice of a 50-year-old, which jars a tad with his indie haircut and youthful good looks, but, aesthetics aside, he is certainly an adept songwriter. So, in the interests of credibility, let's hope he doesn't stray anywhere near David Sneddon territory in the future. Which, if I were giving Paolo notes, would certainly mean no more songs about new shoes, please. As they say on the adverts, if you like the similarly-sounding modern day classic that is Ray LaMontagne's Trouble, you'll simply lurv Paolo Nutini.

Sonic Youth - Rather Ripped

The official line is that Rather Ripped is "a straight-up Sonic Youth field on fire, with a compact potency of rock n roll enlightenment. Rather ripped, hell yeh." Hell yeh indeed. Although we prefer 'hell yeah'. Must say, though, that Rather Ripped is rather good. Hmm, a rather British reaction to a funny American bunch, eh? Good old fashioned rock 'n' roll in part, this is the Sonics at their upbeat best and is more tuneful than a lot of their work. Which, of course, means that the majority of Youthy fans will hate it, as they don't much go for melody and all that, preferring white noise and, latterly, an O-Rourke bass line (he's missing from this effort, the band's 794th album) to, well, those things that some of us refer to as 'songs'. T'ain't bad at all though for us neutral music gobblers. If a five star rating applied, which it doesn't, Rather Ripped would garner **** and, possibly, another half a *. Hell yeh.

Razorlight - Razorlight

The new album from Supertramp...sorry, Sad Cafe...sorry, Huey Lewis & The News...sorry, Razorlight - with an eponymous second album, no less (not much thought there, you lazy bastards). No difficult second album worries for Borrell and the boys with the follow-up to Up All Night. Nah, they've gone headlong into churning out some wierd 1970s-style nonsense. In The Morning, which we've all heard on the radio by now, is the standout track. The rest, a mushy mess bordering on the kind of sound that you'd expect if, say, U2 collaborated with Cliff Richard or Cher. America, what's that about? Well, I'll give you a clue: it's about America. Los Angeles Waltz? You've got it. As for calling a track Pop Song 2006, don't get me started. Strangely listenable, though, this CD. Probably due to it coming in at a 1970s-style 40 minutes long.

Johnny Cash - American V: A Hundred Highways

The sound of a lonely man; a man close to the end; a man with a lifetime of experience and not enough time in which to share it. And nobody, for that matter, to share it with. Except us.
Completed posthumously by producer Rick Rubin, Cash's last gasp is an object of beauty. It can be a painful listen, an emotional experience. But isn't the best music that? If You Could Read My Mind is the first track to induce tears and, after that, you're left, via I Came To Believe and A Legend In My Time, to reach for the hankies at every opportunity. Cash circa his prison gigs was an acquired taste but, in his latter years, his work sang out to everyone. A Hundred Highways is a fitting, if bittersweet, gorgeous finale.

The Sleepy Jackson - Personality

If the music industry were a playground and you had to bully one of those stood in it, chances are you'd roll your sleeves up and target, say, Belle & Sebastian, The Flaming Lips or some other lover of twee rather than that scary mother in the trench coat. These people are the lightweight end of rock. All very adept at twirling a tune, appropriating sounds from the past and over-producing their poppy toons. But you wouldn't expect them to hit you back after you'd landed punch number one. So, enter another member to the club that would be bullied: Perth's The Sleepy Jackson - who, fronted by Brian Wilson wannabe Luke Steele, have shaken up the lineup since debuting many moons ago with Lovers. It's all very nice, it passes by an hour but, ultimately, Personality never really transcends the background it's destined to fill. Still, we can always nick their dinner money.

Jarvis Cocker - Running The World

Protest songs can be a little irksome, can they not? And, thus, the good old days of the 1960s, riddled with the bloody things, ended on a sour note as nobody could ever find what the answer actually was that was supposedly blowing in the wind. Yet, every now and then...
Which brings us to Jarvis Cocker - never afraid to tell it like it is or, when he's bored, shake his ass in the direction of a deserving subject. When Live8 was taking place last year, he took the opportunity to pen a song about those that control the purse strings that, if pulled open in the right direction, could solve many of the world's ills. Jarvo, not bothering about garnering any airplay, doesn't pull any punches. "Cunts are still running the world," he merrily shouts. And he's right, of course. There are some highly amusing, high-impact turns of phrase. "Did you hear there's a natural order, that the deserving will end up with the most, The cream can't help rising to the top, Well I say...shit floats." Strange, I never imagined that the revolution would be led by a gangly bloke in glasses.
http://myspace.com/jarvspace