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CD: Keane - Strangeland | New music reviews, news & interviews | The Arts Desk

To recap the Keane story so far: in 2004 three precocious middle-class boys stormed the charts with bland anthemic radio-friendly rock that used no guitars. Over the next six years, they then went on to experience the kind of growth that George Osborne dreams of. This culminated in the Night Train EP which not only contained guitars but managed the improbable feat of mixing in rap in a non-embarrassing way. Artistically, things were looking good. And when they announced with this year's follow up, the consensus was that their main problem would simply be the lingering issue of brand image.

However, disappointingly, Strangeland actually takes things right back to square one. The band, in fact, claim it’s like “a 3D return” to the sound of their debut. But 3D tends to be glossy but unrewarding, and songs like "Silenced by the Night" sound as if they could have been written by their accountant. That being said, Tom Chaplin’s cherubic vocals, perched over these spacious arrangements do have a certain sweeping quality and won't disappoint fans of Hopes and Fears. In fact, from a “glass half-full” point of view you could argue that Strangeland's expansive keyboard sound harks back to the heyday of Eighties stadium rock. The problem is that there just isn't enough emotion you can believe in. And that means that about half the tracks come over a bit Snow Patrol-lite; which is pretty flimsy indeed.

There are redeeming moments, however. In particular, four songs are pretty endearing.“Sovereign Light Café” and “Day Will Come” share the kind of shameless infectiousness that Coldplay have built their career on. And then there’s a nice change of mood on “Black Rain” where Dan Grech’s production combines with Chaplin’s voice to create an unlikely echo of Radiohead. But the highlight is the jangly “On the Road” which sounds like it could have been transported from mid-period Simple Minds. It’s just a shame then that so much of the rest of the record is as wet as an English summer.

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Ian Anderson, Hammersmith Apollo | New music reviews, news & interviews | The Arts Desk

This may be the Thick as a Brick 2 tour, but it’s also the 44th year of Ian Anderson’s performing career, mainly as Jethro Tull's front man. In that role he's variously been a bluesman, a rocker and a folkie. But when it came to Tull’s 1972 Thick as a Brick, Anderson dubbed it a "progressive rock satire". Tongue-in-cheek as it might have been, it was also 100 percent prog. Yet, like much of Tull’s back catalogue, it continues to influence a new generation. The question the crowd at Hammersmith were asking last night was this: at 64, could Anderson still pull it off?

The answer in part is given by the new album. Here Anderson muses on the fate of child-prodigy fictional "author" of TaaB, Gerald Bostock. As much as anything, though, Anderson simply used the 40th anniversary of TaaB to give him an excuse to write and perform another Tull-style record. And yet, without the help of his old conspirators, the singer-cum-flautist ended up with something many felt sounded a little soft. Still, there are almost as many who feel that the original only showed its true classic colours, live. Could the same be so for its successor? Boldly, last night, Anderson played the two back to back.

Audience members were invited up to take part in a proctology exam cum prostate-awareness skitAs in the Seventies, plentiful gooning around was present from the get-go. A video of Anderson as Bostock’s therapist started the evening. Thereafter sections were “interrupted” by mobile phone calls and at one point, audience members were invited up to take part in a proctology exam cum prostate-awareness skit. But although Anderson loves to monkey about, he’d actually originally introduced humour into these shows to stop earnest fans trying to take the piece too seriously.

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Gomez, Koko | New music reviews, news & interviews | The Arts Desk

Some say that since Gomez beat Pulp to win 1998’s Mercury award, their progress has been a little disappointing. After two or three albums their infectious frazzled blues became replaced by anodyne AOR, until eventually all their wild innocence had gone. Maybe it was too much too early, or maybe because half of them migrated to the States. Either way, their last two offerings have felt like they're simply pandering to safe suburban tastes. Last night’s concert, however, was less about last year’s Whatever’s on Your Mind than the band's 15th anniversary. And, if Gomez have become increasingly beige on record, live they’ve always rocked out.

Not that last night they really needed to do much more than turn up and plug in. The crowd had already decided how much fun they were going to have. And yet, despite the air of fanaticism, Koko didn’t look like a fan convention. The crowd were a diverse bunch a hip, youngish things, seemingly as keen to dance as to rock. The set, however, was chosen by members of the website. Or, as Tom Gray put it, “about half of the set". The band, he said, “had filled in the gaps". And what that meant was an hour and three quarters of gorgeous nostalgia punctuated by disappointments from the new album.

Gomez are still making fine records. They’re just not making them together

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CD: Jack White - Blunderbuss | New music reviews, news & interviews | The Arts Desk

Sometimes I feel I’m the only one who finds Jack White’s music overrated. Although he's undeniably a prodigious axe man, I've never found his trademark raw, “underproduced” sound as convincing. That, however, was The White Stripes and The Raconteurs. Now White’s made an album just under his own name. And that begs the question of whether he has come up with a new musical manifesto. And, if so, is it any good?

Anyone hoping for a substantial creative left-turn will be disappointed. Blunderbuss still pounds the stripped-down blues rock trail. It's true there are more diversions along the way, but this is more evolution than revolution.That’s the bad news. The good news is that is the thicker arrangements really do fill in a lot of the gaps, giving textures that now feel complete. In fact, there are occasions on this album where even the most doubting of Thomases must concede White can really live up to his hype. It's where he moves furthest from his White Stripes template.

And it's also where White is at his most subtle. The acoustic guitar of title track Blunderbuss is as clear as the morning dew. "On and On and On" has a melody that tumbles ever forward. And "Hypocritical Kiss" is bathed in sweet honky-tonk piano. At the other end of the scale, "Missing Pieces", and "I'm Shaking" put such a smile back on his rough, lo-fi blues that you could almost be forgiven for thinking that were listening to The Black Keys' El Camino. The biggest departure, though, is the closer, "Take Me With You When You Go", which with echoes of Cream and Traffic is just a delight. That is, until the false finish, followed by a final minute of White-Stripes-by-numbers. By stomping all over it with his thin angsty voice, White almost ruins it.

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CD: The Mars Volta - Noctourniquet | New music reviews, news & interviews | The Arts Desk

First a word of warning: The Mars Volta is not for everyone. Their hardcore progressive metal may contain light and shade, but it's also there to show the world that Muse is for sissies. And, for all its delicate moments and complexity, at its most intense it is as discordant as the music played in the interrogation rooms of Guantanamo Bay.

However, for those with the balls to handle it, TMV’s music is considered to be not just as powerful as it is radical, but also as interesting. And therein lies the rub. Just as main men Cedric Bixler-Zavala and Omar Rodriguez-Lopez have reformed their slightly “easier” outfit, At The Drive In, for a US mega-festival, they’ve also pushed the envelope on Noctourniquet. It's not just heavy duty, it's also intellectually demanding. And so the question remains: does that make it their masterpiece, or have they now simply become too wilfully difficult and abstruse?

They certainly haven’t gone easy on the prog-rock side. The whole lot is packaged as a “concept” that takes in the myths of Solomon Grundy and Hyacinthus. However, if you’ve heard the first single, "The Malkin Jewel", which sounds like Tom Waits with a tongue stud, you’ll appreciate that the boys are still capable of making offbeat music that anyone might enjoy. But yet they are far more interested in pure avant-rock.

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Sting, Hammersmith Apollo | New music reviews, news & interviews | The Arts Desk

Unlike his old buddy, Phil Collins, who now claims to be considered the “Antichrist of Music”, public consensus on Sting seems elusive. His popularity in the States has never wavered, but back home, it’s difficult to tell if the "tantric" one is generally considered to be something better or worse than a guilty pleasure. Last night, however, Sting was not suffering from any self-doubt. Nor lack of stamina. It was two and a quarter hours of flat-out “back to basics”. Or "Back to Bass", as he’s called this tour.

The stage was bare save for a drum kit, some cables and five mic stands. It was probably the most minimalist stage he had inhabited since his 2008 Police reunion. And there was no support act. Despite having the guitarist’s son performing on stage, Sting’s daughter’s band wasn’t invited to play this time. Everything was simplicity. On one side of the stage was a capacity crowd of well-heeled AOR fans, including actor Richard E Grant. And on the other was an impressively built 60-year-old in a tight T-shirt, looking like Stephen Berkoff with a bass strapped to him.

His various attempts at being a renaissance man – including literally playing renaissance music – have often felt a bit thin

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