October, 2017 RollingStoneAus.com | Rolling Stone | 85
TheLoneBellow
Walk Into a StormSony★★★
Americana trio stuck in third gear
with album number three
Such has been the world’s ap-
petite for Americana in recent
yearsthatTLBhavecarved
out a sizeable following despite
2015’s patchy, low-key sym-
phonic sophomore effortThen
Came the Morning.Recordedat
RCA’s famed Studio A with pro-
ducerDaveCobb(JasonIsbell),
Stormistheband’sfirstouting
sincerelocatingfromBrooklyn
to Nashville. The lush strings
of“MayYouBeWell”salvage
an otherwise rote devotional,
while “Time’s Always Leaving”
is a standout hi-sheen country-
rock moment. All told, though,
the album approximates what
itmighthavesoundedlikehad
theBandslippedserenelyinto
the AOR/soft-rock twilight. It’s
pleasant, if insubstantial. G.H.
Davey Lane
I’mGonnaBurnOutBright
Capgun Kids/ MGM★★★
You Am I guitar slinger goes epic
synth-phonicWhat’s the opposite of guitar
hero? Davey Lane seems hell-
bent on finding out on his second
solo album, a Technicolor pomp-
rock epic with everything more
synthesisedthaneverythingelse
and just one 12-second thrasher
to remind us how far we’ve come
from the garage. Nostalgic pas-
sions are flagged in song titles
(“My Apple Lady Cried”, “Big-
gest Star”) to pre-empt clear
comparisons (XTC, er, Big Star),
and Gallagher-esque pastiche
perilously looms in the over-
cooked likes of “You Drained
My Mynd”. It’s an impressively
sculpted affair, but sonic respite
and genuine emotional engage-
ment sure are sweet in the sole
acoustic tune, “This Is Hell”.M.D.Living Colour
ShadePlanet/MGM★★★
Funk metal agitators got the
bluesonfirstLPineight yearsSubtlety is jettisoned in the fi rst
thunderous downbeat of Liv-
ing Colour’s return to the funk-
metal frontline. The hyper-
Zeppelin swerve of “Freedom of
Expression” leads into a belch-
ing swipe at Robert Johnson’s
“Preachin’ Blues”. Later the bris-
tling state of the Union diatribe
ropes in turbo-charged urban
laments from Marvin Gaye and
the Notorious BIG and a cameo
from George Clinton, all set to
a squalling pitch by singer Cory
Glover and axe monster Vernon
Reid. The sound, frankly, is as
fresh as a limp biscuit, but it’s
hard to fault the righteous in-
dignation over gun violence, ra-
cial profiling, media whitewash
andtherestoftheblack Amer-
ican disaster. MICHAEL DWYERThe Horrors
V Wolf tone/Ca roline ★★
English band lacks vision on fi fth
album“Are we hologram? Are we vi-
sion?” sings Faris Badwan over
roiling synths and an electro-
clash beat. Perhaps he should
be asking “Are we Gary Numan
tribute act?”, because that’s what
it sounds like. The Horrors have
tried on a number of outfi ts over
fi ve albums, arriving as goth-
clad garage rockers and tran-
sitioning through psych-rock
and dream-pop before going
for arena anthems with 2011’s
Skying. V fi nds them stranded
somewhere between melodra-
matic Eighties synth-pop and
contemporary Coldplay-esque
stadium-fi llers. In either mode
they off er po-faced lyrics and a
lack of adventure. To sum up,
then: the answer to “Are we vi-
sion?” is no. BARRY DIVOLAAlex Cameron has built his solo
career on celebrating losers, tell-
ing stories of delusional dead-
beats that are at once searingly
funny and – thanks to his ear-
nest, gravelly delivery and way with some af-
fecting analog synthesisers – oddly poignant.
On Forced Witness, the characters he inhabits
are more pathetic than ever, from the“fucking
lonely man” on “Candy May” (“I live with a
deep regret/of what I do on the internet”) to
the bloke who counts “the Down Syndrome Jew
from the real estate crew” in his “pretty mean
posse”. The more depraved Cameron gets, the
more ecstatic the music, and it’s a hilarious de-
vice that sometimes obscures just how strong
the songs are of their own accord, as when
you’re doubling over at the “beautiful eyes/Ni-
gerian guy” harmonising in catfi sh ballad “TrueLies” – a fi ne pop song in any language. And it
seems that the unlikely friendship that devel-
oped between Cameron and Brandon Flowers
has rubbed off on both parties – see the Killers’
recent satirical single “The Man” and the chest-
beating chorus on “Runnin’ Outta Luck”, fea-
turing Flowers. “Business partner” Roy Molloy,
whose presence until now has been largely lim-
ited to Cameron’s live shows, really comes into
his own on this record, too, his abundant, jubi-
lant sax serving to highlight the glorious wacki-
ness of the whole exercise. A hoot. ANNABEL ROSSSparks
HippopotamusSoft Limit★★★
Tongue-in-cheek originals still
indulging their inner jester
Followingateam-upwithFranz
Ferdinand, inveterate meta-pop
duoSparksdoubledownonwit-
ticisms for their 25th LP. Wheth-
er it’s arch falsetto on their ode
to the missionary position or
auteur jokes on “When You’re a
French Director”, Ron and Rus-
sell Mael haven’t gotten any less
silly. In fact, the title track could
pass for a bright-eyed showtune
pitched to children, if not for
mentions of Titus Andronicus
and Hieronymus Bosch. Despite
the abundance of rubbery ear-
worms, Hippopotamus drags
at 56 minutes. And Sparks don’t
ju s t m a ke t h i s k i nd of t h i ng lo ok
easy – they often make it look too
easy by half. DOUG WALLEN
Alex Cameron Forced Witness
Secretly Canadian ★★★★Alex Cameron’s
Character Study
Cameron continues to make the
deplorable irresistible on LP two