Round-up Tracks: The National, Hot Chip, & More

It’s not entirely clear what prompted The National to make ‘Sunshine on my Back’ public; going off both the tone of the song itself and the design and typeface of the accompanying artwork, it’s presumably taken from the same sessions as the band’s 2013 record ‘Trouble Will Find Me’, an album they were supposed to have brought the curtain down on last November with their huge show at The O2 Arena.

New material from this band is never unwelcome, though, and while this might not necessarily placate fans still wondering what happened to ‘Rylan’ - a track aired live ahead of TWFM’s release, but never actually released - it’s a worthy complement to that album. The guitars simmer, and this time Matt Berninger’s brooding over Tina, as opposed to the ‘Jennifer’ who cropped up more than once on TWFM. Sharon Van Etten’s gorgeously understated backing vocals are key, too, and remind us just how pivotal a role she and Annie Clark played on ‘Trouble Will Find Me’. Given that this was recorded a couple of years back now, there’s few genuine pointers as to what’s truly next, then, but what a lovely surprise all the same. (Joe Goggins)

The scratched rumble that introduces the second single from Hot Chip’s upcoming sixth is horribly deceptive. It rolls with a steady urgency, luring you into a false sense of anticipation for the imminent crush of claustrophobia that never comes. As soon as the shocked cry of, “I need you now,” echoes out, that bubbling potency fizzles out, replaced by something unexpected, charming and astonishingly beautiful.

The title is echoed out once again, this time with a heavy heart, as the true scale of the sparse landscape that ‘Need You Now,’ inhabits is made visible. Scattered dots of electronic chimes and a shuffling background of unsure percussion help drive home the image that haunts Hot Chip. Once the dust has settled in this break-up, all that’s left is a desolate wasteland. Lyrics aren’t sung but scratched into the dirt, each one a warning that echoes through time. “We’ll be playing with a force beyond control,” they reason. For all the heavy self-discovery that threatens to weigh down ‘Need You Now’, Hot Chip have masterfully kept every moment light. It skips, rather than skulks, creating a world of quiet reflection and haunting elegance that presents a tantalising offer of exploration, even if it is undertaken alone. (Ali Shutler)

There’s a steady pulse behind The Maccabees’ returning single of choice – a thudding bassline which drags ‘Marks To Prove It’ kicking and screaming through the haze of their contemporaries. The Maccabees are almost the scene’s elder statesmen now, having ploughed straight through the hype and next-big-thing bandwagons of those they’re so often pinned alongside. As they gear up for their fourth full-length, they seem more vital than ever –the necessary force to shift away the fuzz-drenched pretenders.

It’s anything but overly studio-polished though, kicking into life with a snarling twang and an outstretched roar. Time away has granted them ample space to beef up their act – this is no wistful ‘sound of the summer’ indie record; it’s a hundred-mile-an-hour road trip through punishing desert. Even when they tone it down, dipping into echoey, eerie synth-lines as the track enters its final third, the tightrope is quick to snap. It’s the playful waltz with which ‘Marks To Prove It’ reaches its end, though, that leaves the most lasting impression. Bobbing along with the lackadaisical attitude of a thousand cooler-than-thou groups who’ve seen fit to hang from their coattails, The Maccabees’ statement is clear – as their long-awaited next record finally rears its head, they’re dusting off their shoulders and taking the throne. (Tom Connick)

Place The Vaccines in any era or knackered studio - pick a decade, see what fits - and they’ll be able to pen some kind of monster hit. This group go through identity shifts like costume changes on a catwalk. They can pen bolshy, two-chord rock juggernauts, fleeting acoustic dreamers at will, and then there’s this - ‘Dream Lover’. Billed as the official lead single, this is third album ‘English Graffiti’’s statement of intent, and it sees Justin Young and co. affirming themselves as a completely different force.

Part-Bowie-endorsed glam, part glittering synth anthem, at first it strikes as a curious fit for something chart-eyeing. But in steps the chorus, arguably one of the biggest The Vaccines have penned to date. And it’s the finest proof yet that these guys could craft juggernauts with any tools. The big question with ‘English Graffiti’, then, is whether they can keep grip of their identity while trying on new clothes. (Jamie Milton)

After the raw, and very immediate bareness of ‘Major Arcana,’ Speedy Ortiz have been delving into swampier sonic territories, and their newest release ‘Puffer’ is their boldest - or rather, murkiest - exploration so far. Sadie Dupuis’ characteristically sinister and obscure poetic lyrics - “she did it so good / not to fear a thing “- sit in slightly different territory; alongside a sleazy, sinister Rn’B synth line, to be exact. “It’s supposed to sound like kelis,” claimed Dupuis, and, well, it does sound like Kelis making forays into post-punk. Speedy Ortiz perfectly toe the line bordering the dark and slightly sordid on ‘Puffer,’ and it’s also confirmation that they’ve left behind their college-rock nostalgia roots. (El Hunt)

Weedy isn’t a word that you’d ordinarily associate with Ben Khan’s ‘1992’ EP, but now, in the overwhelming glare of newer material on upcoming EP ‘1000’, that’s how it sounds in comparison. Last month the frenetic skitter of Khan’s title track busted onto the scene, and along with this swaggering follow-up ‘Zenith’, everything that came before has virtually been blown out of the water. Thudding opening beats make way for funky guitar riffs and chunky synths, while Khan attempts to faux-soothe his listener in the most threatening way possible: “I won’t lie,” he snarls. “I won’t incinerate your heart.”

It’s a little less immediate than our first taste of the new EP, but there’s palpable development from last year’s similar effort, ‘Savage’. The synths are gloopier, the bass heavier. Use of falsetto has been severely limited. It all makes for a decidedly meaty aesthetic – and one far less comparable to Khan’s elusive space-funk precursor, Jai Paul. They’ve never been similar enough to warrant the link that’s so often made between them, and with Khan’s music progressing so rapidly it wouldn’t be a surprise if the comparison were drawn the opposite way when – or if – Jai Paul finally resurfaces. (Larry Bartleet)

Tags: Hot Chip, The National, Listen, Features