Artist: Jamie T
Title: Kings & Queens
Label: Virgin Records
Genre: Indie
Bitrate: 181kbit av.
Time: 00:42:43
Size: 58.76 mb
Rip Date: 2009-09-04
Str Date: 2009-09-07
01. 368 4:43
02. Hocus Pocus 3:30
03. Sticks 'N' Stones 4:00
04. The Man's Machine 4:50
05. Emily's Heart 4:07
06. Chaka Demus 3:34
07. Spider's Web 4:44
08. Castro Dies 2:59
09. Earth, Wind And Fire 3:45
10. British Intelligence 3:18
11. Jilly Armeen 3:13
Release Notes:
Not that even Treays finds such a task simple. The Wimbledon troubadour
encountered the usual Second Album Syndrome blues as he worried about
how to follow 2007's Mercury-nominated Panic Prevention. Kings and
Queens very nearly ended up a Dylanesque acoustic set and/or a take on
US hardcore punk before he and his production partner, Ben Bones,
realised that doing what they do but better was probably a smarter idea
than career suicide. The result is a 43-minute, all-killer, no-filler
set of stunners about city sickness, aimless rebellion and dissolving
relationships.
It's hard to pick which of these songs to highlight. It's perhaps more
pertinent to look at the places where Jamie T has made a significant
leap of faith. 368 - the one about beer and millilitres - is a crucial
starting point, its metallic beat connecting it to the hip-hop
influences of Panic Prevention that are less marked here. It's almost a
tribute to both Paper Planes, and the song MIA's anthem samples, the
Clash's Straight to Hell. From there, it's easy to hear how much Joe
Strummer's penchant for world music on Sandinista! and Combat Rock
informs the frustrated sadness of Kings and Queens, especially on Hocus
Pocus (the friends that drag you down), Spider's Web (illicit affairs,
Americans comparing Obama to Osama and the intifada/Palmer gag) and
British Intelligence (surveillance paranoia).
More surprising is the deft theft of classic British folk on The Man's
Machine and the ballad standouts Emily's Heart and Jilly Armeen. The
former sees our hero facing the potentially fatal consequences of doing
the dirty on a girl with a gun; the latter is deliciously out of
character, a self-pitying refusal to write any more songs about a girl
who will never return his feelings.
But I'm scratching the surface. This is a great state-of-the-city
album, in the tradition of Something Else by the Kinks, Parklife and,
of course, London Calling, which effortlessly taps into that alienated
young male desire for a riot of one's own while acknowledging that,
when it comes, you'd prefer to be in a drinking den with the cruel girl
of your dreams. Because the Kings and Queens here are pawns in
disguise. And Jamie T knows exactly how they feel.
sire@hush.ai