Lisa Knight's Blog, page 28

STEVE GILMORE’S MUSIC REVIEWS: SHORTHAND PHONETICS – SURREAL SITUATION FOR SARAH-JEAN

You can listen to this artist on Soundclick

OK, after the cock up on my part last month with the November Skyline track I reviewed attributing it to SP, I am assured that THIS is the real thing. Surreal Situation for Sarah-Jean is a track from the band’s fully downloadable album Fan Fiction, which you can download for nothing at archive.org. I grabbed a copy of it a week or so ago but much to my annoyance I have yet to find the time to even give it a cursory listen and once I knew this track was up for review this month, that kinda finished listening to it at all. The album is full of tracks I (and lots of other reviewers) have raved about of the past couple of years. So much so that it reads like a Shorthand Phonetics Greatest Hits jobbie…

Not bad for such young ‘un’s eh? ;)

There is a side to Shorthand Phonetics that doesn’t really appeal to me; the love/life is a tragedy routine I could well do without but there’s no doubt that I love this band when they rock out. Surreal Situation for Sarah-Jean is a track that will be instantly familiar to those of us who have developed an appetite for this Indonesian proto-punk particular brand of musical mayhem. The thing that has always appealed to me about them is their ability to craft a song, and deliver it properly despite some horrendous mix stories and Surreal Situation is cut from that mould. Without, I might add, any of the horrendousness so evident in so many of this bands tracks. They do seem to have surmounted their initial problems and are now delivering consistent sounds, albeit ‘live’ sounding.

Again, that is another draw of this band. As you listen, you can actually visualise them all going about their business, they SOUND like a band. Surreal Situation is an ace track from the standpoint of us old fans but what might they offer a newcomer? Great songs for a start, set in what Soundclick have labelled Alternative: Alt Punk that think gets it said. I’ve said before that when they hit this particular groove (their more punky stuff) that they remind me strongly of the Buzzcocks but that probably has more to do with the vocal tone than anything they do musically. Not sure what the little coda is doing on the end of this track though unless it’s just a bit of weirdness for weirdness sake. It’s been a while since SP came up with a track like this, but this is worth it – should you like a bit of rough and ready, of course.

Recommended.

Written by Steve Gilmore

POETRY: LIGHT WEIGHT, HEAVY ON THE MAKE-UP BY PAUL TRISTRAM

As I pass them on a drizzly Friday evening

sitting upon the cold, uneven cemetery wall,

dressed in mini skirts and vest tops in January.

Talking shit and swearing like Troopers

“The only fucking thing keeping me on this

fucking wall is my fucking fanny-pad, ha, ha!”

Listening to monotonous techno on smartphones

whilst drinking and belching like Miners.

I always wonder to myself why they chose Vodka

instead of Lager, Cider or cheap Wine

because they obviously can’t handle the hard stuff?

By the time I walk back past in an hour or so time

they’ll be sitting in their own vomit, crying,

fighting or laying there unconscious.

One weekend, my wife went to help them

try to find one of their front teeth which had been

smashed out on the wall when the girl fell over.

Maybe I am just getting old, No, I am getting old!

I just don’t understand why they just don’t drink

Beer and smoke some Weed and have lots of fun.

But in saying that, at their age, I was taking LSD,

Amphetamines, Sniffing Glue and waking up

Battered, Bruised and barely alive in Police Cells!

So what the fucking Hell would I know anyway?

Written by Paul Tristram

GUEST PUBLICATION SPOTLIGHT: GUEST PUBLICATION SPOTLIGHT: Blackfriars Bestiary – 2.0 –Love Amongst Strangers: Forward After Forever The Story So Far… by Jack Buxton

Ayesha spent another night trapped in the strange world.

Thankfully for her, due to her slight obsession with evening television, she remembered an episode of Born Survivor and managed to create a fire to keep her warm for the night.

Up until creating the fire she had resisted eating any food that she found, or drinking any water she came across in a world she was convinced was out to kill her. However, she eventually succumbed to the fact that the body needs some fuel so it doesn’t just give out.

Ayesha finally drank from a river she came across, noticing that it was of a circular path, with no visible beginning or end. She took a mouthful and discovered, not to her surprise, that the water tasted spoiled and rotten with dark forces.

Her mind became swamped with illusions, the river transforming into a giant serpent that soon attacked her, eating her whole.

Moments later, she awoke to the image of Mister Mo’s ghostly image standing over her … naked.

The image of her bodyguard naked only added to the pressure of the world. She felt alone and totally helpless, as if the nature of her power had somehow ceased to exist. Due to the turmoil within her, and the damage to her confidence, she reacted aggressively towards her caring bodyguard.

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GUEST PUBLICATION SPOTLIGHT: BENTO 15 – THE WARRIOR FROM OUT OF THE SKY BY ADRIAN J WATTS

A FREE COPY CAN BE DOWNLOADED HERE

Rebecca McIntyre walked down the alley that separated the two warehouses her team had been staking out for the last few months. Although she was the only person in the street, there were armed officers in the rear loading docks of each building.

Nothing was being left to chance.

Rebecca had worked out the drug cartel’s routine a fortnight ago, but had continued to monitor them to make absolutely sure that she knew where they’d be and when. Taking out the bad guys was of paramount importance to her superiors.

And so she waited…

BANG!

The gunshot caused Rebecca to jump out of her skin. After taking a few moments to compose herself, she grabbed the radio microphone attached to the dashboard and yelled: “Go! Go! Go!”

McIntyre jumped from the car and pulled a gun from the holster at her hip as she ran for the front entrance; a corrugated metal roller door, held closed with a padlock and chain.

“This is the police! Open up!”

There was no answer from inside.

Damn it! McIntyre thought. I haven’t come this far to screw it up now!

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STEVE GILMORE’S MUSIC REVIEWS: SOUL DUST – ANAESTHESIA

You can listen to this artist on Soundclick

‘Ever feel like you’re just getting numb to it all?’ Soul Dust ask in the comments on this track. Good question, as it happens. I wouldn’t say numb so much as jaded, ya know what I mean? While it’s true that I am the proud possessor of a pair of highly sensitive stainless steel ears, I come by them honestly. Having sacrificed my youth and beauty (Ed: wot?) before the massed altars of Marshall stacks, you would have to develop some heavy duty reinforcement of your pink sticky out bits. Especially as, like Soul Dust, you like things a tad on the loud side. Pardon? I said a tad on the LOUD SIDE… All that volume tends to make you a bit Mutt and Jeff as well as giving you that constant stunned expression…

So…where was I? Ahhh, obviously it makes you a bit forgetful as well.

I have long held a love for crusty, in-yer-face sweaty rock, the dirtier the better and Soul Dust has delivered consistently a steady diet of pure red meat in the past and even given me a Track Of The Year 2005 with the powerful Hard To Say Goodbye, although that is not what I’d class as a heavy rock tune. Anaesthesia certainly is though, and it achieves the opposite of its title. The kind of music that makes you want to jump from the tops of high buildings just for the thrill out of it, extreme sports music to the max. The kind of music you put on your iPod shortly before leaping off the top of Mt. Ikillhumans on your snowboard, hell bent on being bent to hell.

I have to admit here that I am well biased towards this Canadian band, and it’s partner in crime Catapult because they both come across with the real thing. Therefore, it’s a given that to get anything out of this track you should have some kind of rock sensibility and the harder, the better. Classic heavy rock is what Soul Dust pump out; hot, sweaty and out looking to have a party and it’s gonna be at your house and in your ears. Another hallmark of this band is their devotion to delivering a quality product, so it’s a given that it is performed with pride and produced to within industry standards (i.e., LOUD). This is the bands first outing with me this year – they gave me a rest, what nice lads – and judging by this, nothing has changed and thank fekk for that…

Quality hard rock. Recommended.

Written by Steve Gilmore

GUEST PUBLICATION SPOTLIGHT: Blackfriars Bestiary – 2.0 – 1979 by Jericho Vilar

The barely coherent screams, which could’ve been about anything, were heard as statements apparent and important in the heat of the moment, the audience’s subsequent understanding, both of which were made flesh through violence and anger.

To Livingston Chance it was music in its purest, most concentrated form. Primal emotions with all of the fat cut out; simple in theory and execution but utterly complex when revisited in later conversations. The power of the music unable to be contained in whatever form of recording today’s technology had given birth to. It was the sound of a new generation; the generation stepped over, insulted, and ignored by its predecessors. This was the generation’s declaration of war.

Livingston Chance knew that he had to be a part of it and now sitting there, alone and hidden among the towering stacks of hard poison in the Roxy Club’s back room, he knew that his mission was accomplished. Too accomplished, in fact. He acknowledged it to himself as he sank deeper into the dark corner that he had currently occupied. In his gut, he knew that he, personally, couldn’t do anything else with it. His statement had already been made in the handful of shows that he had performed with Rancid Wankstain earlier that year. He found it hard to believe that not even halfway through their first extended tour; the music and the message had already become redundant. He was already bored of it. Livingston Chance stared blankly at the nest of dead fag ends inches from his vomit encrusted boots and he knew that they would never see the recording studio. Rancid Wankstain would not see the end of the tour. Livingston Chance drew a cigarette from the weathered packet in his jeans pocket and placed it upon his lips. As a match was struck and the cigarette lit, Livingston Chance knew the end was near.

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GUEST PUBLICATION SPOTLIGHT: BENTO 15 – HAIRY HANDS BY JOSH REYNOLDS

A FREE COPY CAN BE DOWNLOADED HERE

“This is the third time tonight we’ve driven down this road,” Ebe Gallowglass said. Her petite, lean frame was shoved back as far as it could go in the Crossley’s passenger seat, and her feet were pressed against the windscreen. Gallowglass was dark and slightly feral looking, with black hair cut in a razor-edged bob and a battered man’s flat cap resting high on her head. She wore a man’s clothes, hemmed for a woman of her small stature, beneath a heavy convoy coat. Cairo street-charms and Celtic rune-stones hung from a twine bracelet on her wrist.

“It was your idea to come to Dartmoor in the first place,” Charles St. Cyprian said as he guided the automobile around the curve in the road for the third time in as many hours. “Hairy hands, you said. It’ll be a public service; you said.”

“I never said that!”

“Something like that, at any rate,” St. Cyprian said. In contrast to Gallowglass, he was tall and rangy with an olive cast to his features and hair just a touch too long to be properly fashionable. He wore a battered ‘British Warm’—an officer’s greatcoat—over a well-tailored suit straight from Gieves and Hawkes, in Savile Row. He leaned forward over the Crossley’s wheel, trying to see through the thick evening fog that obscured the road. The Crossley’s headlamps were more hindrance than help, given the viscosity of the weather. “It’s hardly my fault the local bogey has gone to ground.” He glanced at her. “It probably heard we were coming and hopped the Channel, what?”

Gallowglass rolled her eyes. “How can a pair of bloody hands hear anything?”

“Well, they certainly know when people are driving along this road, according to the stories. Maybe they hear vibrations in the aether. Theories, Ms. Gallowglass, abound.”

“Theories,” Gallowglass said. She snorted. “You didn’t even know about this one until I told you.”

“No, but I am the Royal Occultist, and as such, capable of formulating theories at the first whisper of a ghost’s shroud across a paving stone,” St. Cyprian said.

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FAN FICTION: GUARDIANS OF THE GALAXY #83 – EXODUS! BY ADRIAN J WATTS

At the outskirts of the Pama star system

Standing at the aft end of the Captain America III – the starship belonging to the Guardians of the Galaxy – Gan-Vell pressed his body against a transparent viewport that gave him a good view of the Pama system. He looked sadly at the charred ruin that was once his beloved homeworld, Hala, devastated only minutes earlier by operatives of the Kree Intelligence Supreme.

Behind him stood the dozen Kree that the Guardians were able to evacuate before the planet was destroyed. Five belonged to the one family, whose matriarch was trying to calm her three children. The eldest, a boy, stared past Gan-Vell and out of the viewport where shattered glass and steel could be clearly seen as they drifted by the ship as it quickly accelerated toward the speed of light.

Gan-Vell continued to look out of the viewport as Nicholette, the flame-haired Guardian from the planet Mercury approached him. She stood behind him for several moments before resting a hand on the young Kree’s shoulder. He shrugged it off, but Nicholette did not back away.

“I’m sure that there were survivors, Gan-Vell,” she said in an attempt at consolation. “The ship’s sensors detected a few large objects heading away from Hala during the explosion. They could have been ships.”

“Yeah. Maybe,” Gan-Vell said distractedly.

“We’ll be breaking the speed of light in a minute,” Nicholette said. “You might not want to be looking out of the viewport when that happens. There’s always a big flash, and I know from experience that it hurts your eyes if you look at it.” She smiled.

Gan-Vell didn’t respond, and eventually Nicholette decided to leave him and help calm the Kree refugees with the Centaurian Yondu. As the Captain America III continued its acceleration to light speed, Gan-Vell continued to stare at his devastated planet. In the distance, beyond his ruined planet, Gan-Vell saw several dozens pinpricks of white light that were soon blotted out by the bright white flash that symbolised the ship’s acceleration beyond the speed of light.

Were those ships? Gan-Vell thought, Or was I just seeing an early sign of the ship’s sudden acceleration? I’ve got to know… I’ve got to come back.

Hala

Before the devastation of the planet’s surface, there stood a tall structure at the center of the city of Kree-Lar. It was the tallest building on the planet, standing more than three kilometers tall, and that wasn’t including the levels below ground.

That building, like all others on the planet, were destroyed when the Supreme Intelligence’s Kree Stealth Squadron fired a powerful energy blast at the planet hours earlier*. Now, as small metal pods fell across the planet’s surface, Ruul technicians gathered at the site where the most important of all Kree buildings had stood.

[ * – in GUARDIANS OF THE GALAXY #82 – Adrian ]

One metal pod finally struck the ground before them, and after shedding its metal shielding the miniaturised computer began to erect a skeleton for a new building. Metal girders stuck out of the pod-like spider’s legs, pushed further and further outwards and upwards as more and more of the skeleton was created by the pod’s computer.

As the skeleton developed, technicians used various tools to attach metal plates that would form the building’s walls. Several agile Ruul entered the incomplete structure and used their skills to affect the building’s growth – beding girders here, putting holes in metal plates to make room for stairs and elevators that would be built later – focusing, most importantly, on twisting the girders that formed the skeleton of the building’s uppermost level into a double helix structure.

In an hour, the building had been constructed. There was only one more thing to be done before it was complete. A Ruul stepped forward, entered the building, and with a surprising amount of agility for a creature his size, he made his way to the top of the building, where he stood before the double helix.

He produced a large crystal, almost as big as a human’s head, and placed it inside of the double helix before dropping to the ground where he landed uninjured. He smiled happily, as he and every other Ruul on the planet got on their knees and looked in the direction of the new building; their heads bowed.

The crystal glowed brightly.

Halfway between Hala and the Galactic Council Chamber-World

As the Captain America III slowed to a speed less than the speed of light, space was lit up by another bright flash of light. The ship was still moving very fast, but not fast enough that it could not receive messages directed at it.

>>G…ians…<>…Tor-Quin, the Kree Ambassador to the Galactic Council. Before Hala’s destruction, I sent out a warning to the Kree people. I thought the Ruul might have blocked it, but I just received word that several refugee ships managed to escape the attack. They’re travelling together. Can you protect them?<>Sending the co-ordinates now.<<

Several numbers appeared on the communicator’s display screen, and Martinex programmed them into the ship’s auto-pilot. Captain-27 glanced at him as he tried to slow the ship. “Tell Tor-Quin we’ll be there shortly,” Captain-27 said.

Valaar the Accuser stood on the bridge of the cloaked worldship of the Supreme Intelligence. Since it fulfilled its task in re-creating Hala as a home for the Ruul, it had been converted into a massive battleship. Seated at stations all around him were various Ruul, busily reviewing computer printouts and making modifications to the ship’s course. Behind him stood a pale, blue-skinned humanoid with feline features and a thin, lithe body that enhanced her catlike appearance.

It was to her that Valaar spoke when he turned and said, “Where are they?”

The woman smiled. “They will be here.” Her voice sounded perfectly human, and it made Valaar shudder. He had been taught to hate humans and all offshoots of that species. He continued his association with the woman only out of necessity; when the Supremor decided that she had outlived her usefulness, he would take great pleasure in tearing her limb from limb.

Valaar looked out into the dark void in which his ship was immersed. The closest star was billions of kilometers away and shed little light on the area. There were no moons, planets, or asteroids to be found, making this area part of an ideal route for ships travelling beyond the speed of light, whose pilots could not react quickly enough to avert disaster if their path should happen to cross with that of a planet. In the distance, Valaar could just make out several brown dots. They were Kree refugee ships, and he was going to destroy them.

He used one of his muscular grey arms to activate a communication unit built into his armour. He spoke in a gruff and guttural voice, unpleasant even to the ears of his fellow Ruul. “Attention all crew. The vile ones are approaching. It is our duty to destroy them. Fighter squadrons Kri and Ree, launch now. Force them closer to the worldship. Mine is to be the hand that destroys them. Go. Now.”

“Are you sure that you want to do this?” the blue-skinned woman asked, tossing her long blue hair behind her head.

“It is my duty,” Valaar said simply.

“That was not what I asked. Do you want to do this?”

Valaar smiled, displaying his long, needlelike teeth that all Ruul bore. “I agree that all Kree are vile anachronisms that need to be exterminated if the Ruul race is to thrive. I want to do all that I can to help my species, and my master. As such, yes, I do want to do this.” He let his mouth relax. “I think the more important question is: what is it that the Kree have done that causes you to sell your unique services to the Ruul?”

“That is for me to know, Valaar, not you,” the woman replied as twenty-four Ruul fighter ships passed the front of the worldship. The ships’ bodies were long and tapered at the ends. Toward the back were the wings, shaped like right angled triangles, flat, and only one atom thick.

The brown refugee ships were much closer, and already the Ruul fighters buzzed around them, trying to force them toward the worldship. The outdated Kree vessels possessed no weapons; the fighters alone could take them out with ease, but Valaar wanted that satisfaction for himself.

Valaar once again activated his armour’s communication unit. “Drop the cloak and prepare the ion cannon for immediate use. I want to vaporize those ships. I want nothing left. No shreds of DNA from which Kree can be cloned. Nothing.”

“Accuser,” one of the Ruul manning a monitoring station said. “The ship’s sensors are detecting another ship approaching at immense speeds. What should we do?”

“Nothing. It will be destroyed along with the Kree.”

Valaar waited as the refugee ships were forced ever closer. Suddenly, two streaks of yellow energy crossed the worldship’s bow, and the ship’s sensors verified that it had come from the approaching ship. Valaar used his communicator once again. “Ree squadron, destroy this new arrival’s weapons.” Twelve of the twenty-four fighter ships that had been harassing the refugees flew straight toward the Captain America III, which still approached the worldship.

“Accuser!” another Ruul cried. “Two small objects have left the ship. I think that they’re alive!”

Valaar turned away from the massive viewscreen that covered one wall of the worldship’s bridge. “Activate the shields and reactivate the cloak. Gunnery, is the ion cannon ready for deployment?”

“Yes, Accuser!” came the reply.

Valaar nodded. “Sensors, I want to know what the two approaching objects are. Now.”

“Two humanoid figures, Accuser.”

“Are they carrying weapons? Spacewalking equipment?”

“No.”

As the Captain America III tried to dodge the attacks of the Ruul fighters, Phoenix-IX and the Keeper flew straight at the worldship. The Keeper let loose blasts of the Power Cosmic that were absorbed easily by the worldship’s shields. With a thought, Phoenix-IX’s body was covered in flame, and he vainly attempted to scorch the worldship’s hull. The worldship showed no visible signs of damage.

On the worldship’s bridge, Valaar noticed various sensor stations lighting up. “What happened?”

“The attackers used energy attacks on our hull. We have nothing to fear.”

Valaar turned his attention back to the approaching refugee ships. Their approach had been slowed by the departure of half of the fighters, but they were still coming ever closer. Valaar approached his command station and poised his finger over the activation controls for the worldship’s ion cannon.

“Accuser, the attacking ship has released another object.”

From behind him, another Ruul spoke up. “Accuser, the refugee ships are in range of the ion cannon and our fighters are asking what to do now that they have destroyed our attacker’s shipbound weapons.”

Valaar recalled the Ruul fighter ships and began the process that would end in the firing of the worldship’s ion cannon.

“Accuser!” someone shouted. “One of our attackers – it’s a Kree!”

“What?” Valaar snapped.

“A Kree, Accuser! And the attacking ship is heading toward us, building up speed…”

Before Valaar could issue an order, the Captain America III struck the aft end of the worldship. The worldship’s shields, configured primarily to stop energy attacks, had not been ready for the assault. The ship rocked with the impact, and Valaar was forced to grab hold of his command station to keep from falling. The ship’s sensors verified Valaar’s suspicions that Captain America III had been badly damaged by the impact, and that it had recalled the Keeper and Phoenix-IX.

“Accuser! The Kree attacker has intercepted the refugee ships! They’re turning… they’ll soon be out of range…”

Valaar pressed the button that fired the ion cannon. The area in front of the ship was lit up by a bright silver flash. When it faded, the worldship’s sensors revealed that three of the seven refugee ships had survived, and were getting away. There were no traces of the other four… or the Captain America III.

“Pursue the fleeing ships,” Valaar ordered.

“Accuser, it will be hours before the ion cannon is recharged.”

“I want no traces…” He thought for a moment. “We will return to Hala. I must report to the Supremor.”

Behind him, the blue-skinned woman scowled.

Aboard the Captain America III

“Woohoo!” Nikki whooped. “Way to go, Chunky!”

Captain-27 smiled from the pilot’s seat. The ship was badly damaged, but it was still flying – and it was only thanks to some fancy maneuvering by the Guardians’ leader that the ship had not been vaporised by the Ruul worldship’s ionic blast. “We took some heavy damage, Nikki – but I surprised myself there.”

“We lost four refugee ships,” Phoenix-IX said. “We should not be celebrating.”

“We’re alive, Giraud,” Nikki said. “That’s what matters. There is nothing more that we could have done for the refugees.”

“No? I didn’t see you do anything, Guardian.”

“I – ” Nikki began. She was cut off by Martinex, who was receiving another communique. It was from Gan-Vell.

>> … Council’s Chamber-World. We’ll wait.<<

“What did the Kree say?” Phoenix-IX asked.

“He said that the refugees are almost at Chamber-World,” Captain-27 said. “We’ll be there in a few minutes ourselves. Nikki, you should go back and help Yondu and the Keeper make sure the refugees are all right.” Nikki left.

“Good. The sooner we’re at Chamber-World, the sooner I can – ” Giraud began.

“Giraud, why don’t you just leave now, if you despise us as much as you say?” Martinex asked. “We go back a very long way, but if you’re going to keep speaking to Nicholette and Charlie that way, then even I don’t want you around. You were not betrayed by us. There was nothing we could do to help Firelord or Autolycus, and you know it.”

Phoenix-IX looked stunned. He began to speak, stopped himself, and then said, “Fine.” He left the cockpit, and moments later one of Martinex’s sensors showed Phoenix-IX making his own way to Chamber-World.

“Do you really believe that?” Captain-27 asked.

Martinex didn’t reply.

NEXT ISSUE: The Guardians arrive at Chamber-World… but will they find friends – or foes?

Written by Adrian J. Watts of SoftPixels.net

STEVE GILMORE’S MUSIC REVIEWS: DIGHTS – SUMMA SOMETHING

You can listen to this artist on Soundclick

S’no good rubbing your eyes and looking at that bandname again. It’s never going to say what you want it to say, and you’ll only make your headache worse… Dights is the name of a producer/engineer based in my own town of London and looks – by my reckoning anyway – as if he might be new to Soundclick. It’s amazing how many of us Londoners draw inspiration from dub and reggae, and even invent new genres utilising recognised dub and reggae technical tricks. It’s been one of the joys of getting lots of London musicians online, and playing ‘spot the references’ on their tracks and Dights – I’m pleased to tell you – is well up there with this particular school of music.

Summa Something is an enviable cross between dub, dnb and all points south, and although I found it a bit rough in spots, it certainly hits all the right spots. It’s also a blend of loops and live instrumentation, and I think that’s where it doesn’t quite work for me. The mix too, has its rough spots mainly in gain levels, although it IS as clear as a bell. Ultimately though, tracks like this (i.e., instrumentals) stand or fall by one thing; how they maintain your interest, especially over the length of 5 minutes plus. On that score, I don’t think Dights has very much to worry about because what I came away with would be enough to please John Q Punter, provided you liked electronica blends.

For my part, however, the more I heard the more I began to think ‘yeah nice, but where do you go from this?’ and I didn’t feel the track worked up to anything – if you get my drift. To be sure I definitely enjoyed the experience of wandering through this track more than a few times, even from a technical standpoint. Even so, at the end of this process I came away thinking that Summa Something was a very good instrumental that had a very tasty blend of styles within it, each part was played and produced well, but ultimately it failed to a) knock me on my ass or b)go anywhere special with what it had. It’s a great shame that SC still haven’t solved their player problem because I would like to have heard the other track on Dights page to see whether I felt the same about that, but such things are not to be…

An interesting diversion, but I need more meat than this….

Written by Steve Gilmore

STEVE GILMORE’S MUSIC REVIEWS: L*A*W – WHAT Y’ALL WANNA HEAR

You can listen to this artist on MP3 Unsigned

First track out of May reviews bag is L*A*W who – as you may gather from the gaudiness of his name – is a 28-year-old rapper/singer/producer/multi-instrumentalist/choreographer. No doubt it keeps him busy. L*A*W stands for (take it however you like) Lyrical Assault Weapon or Loving All Women and although you might expect the usual parade of bling, ho’s and f***** c*********, it would be best not to jump to that conclusion. As LAW proudly states in his comments on his page, he comes from a long line of musicians, and there is nothing wrong with that, and a lot that is right. It’s good as well to have a bit of ‘front’ when you are trying to establish yourself; self-confidence is a must – even online. Nonetheless, this IS the internet and I have to say the hype surrounding this artist (and by default his grandfather Sam ‘Bluzeman’ Taylor, also up for review this month) may have raised a hackle or two but hey, we all get excited right? What works in the real world often doesn’t transfer itself to cold hard print, and this appears to be the case here and we all got to start somewhere.

As far as I am concerned, there is only one thing I want to know, will they live up to the hype and I have to say that judging from what I’ve already heard, LAW does that right enough. I wanted to review Wishin U Were Here (a country track would you believe) but for some reason it doesn’t want to play or be downloadable. So I went and had a quick browse through the tracks on the page and picked What Yall Wanna Hear because its mix of rock and hip-hop really did it for me. It is a definite fact that not only does LAW know what he’s doing; he does it with a professionalism that will take your breath away. Mind you, in an area like Crown Heights (Brooklyn USA), musical families like this have spawned hordes of REAL (ie commercial) stars and I see no reason why there isn’t room for LAW in that glittering crowd. Which, as he states again on his page, is the avowed intention.

OK, but where does that leave us bottom feeders of the internet? It gives us a GREAT track for free, and What Yall Wanna Hear is a rocking track where plays everything in sight and then some. Mostly I just ignore those people who shout ‘Me! Me! Me!’ as a constant daily chorus but this time, I’m glad to have made LAW’s acquaintance. There is no doubt that if you like rock music done well, you will love this track. There’s no doubt that if you like music with an Urban feel, then this’ll be that bad boy. The kind of track fits into several genres, and you KNOW I couldn’t pass anything like that up. It’s one of those track where everything works like a well-oiled machine. No stresses. No strains. Easy. Yeah, riiiiighhhttt. I worked in a studio in Brooklyn Heights during the 1980’s and became very well versed in this particular urban scene around the whole of Brooklyn, and this track could only have come from there. Classy, professional, eyes glued to the ball approach are the hallmarks, and THAT is what makes this track work and it still doesn’t do what a lot of technically perfect tracks do to me: turn me off for the lack of emotion/excitement. It works because LAW pours his heart and soul into breathing life and warmth into the track with his vocals and lyrics. Having said that, I’d still like to hear the country track though…

Written by Steve Gilmore