DOUGLAS FIELD relishes the hard-boiled language, satire and humour of the third and last of the Harlem trilogy
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Album reviews with Ian Sinclair
STEPHANIE BROWN draws attention to the hidden labour of the female embroiderers, and how a 19th century replica made no such error
MIK SABIERS revels in a band that ploughs an idiosyncratic furrow of expletive laden, guitar-driven alt rock
ANDY HEDGECOCK, MARIA DUARTE and ANGUS REID review Synthetic Sincerity, Our Hero, Balthazar, Heartstopper Forever, and A Year In London
The bard invites readers to a gig, raps for Clacton, and lays out the Burnham-Hurzeler conundrum
RON JACOBS recommends an important book that enhances the oppositional theories put forth by Fanon and, in doing so, remakes psychology itself
Simone Felice
The Projector
(New York Pro)
★★★★
THOSE who have followed the Catskills-born Simone Felice from his days with The Felice Brothers and then The Duke & The King will know he is a hugely talented singer-songwriter.
His new record, full of affecting and often stripped-back ballads, is further proof of his brilliance. Gone is the soul influence of his previous work, replaced by more stately songs like the title track, with its talk of bugged phones and toasters in baths and a huge chorus supplied by Natasha Khan of Bat For Lashes.
Hustler has something of Nic Jones’s The Jukebox As She Turned about it, while the strained domesticity on Your Hands echoes the high emotions of fellow Americana songster John Murry.
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STEVE JOHNSON salutes the mellifluous tones and clear-minded political message of a uniquely relevant Birmingham-born singer-songwriter