In many ways there’s never been a better time to be a 45-year musician. The decline in sales of new music coupled with festival promotors' overreliance on established/reformed acts of yesteryear has swung things in favour of artists pitching it to the married with children bracket - seeing as everyone else is skint these days - whilst pattern baldness indie acts like Elbow and The National have steadily galumphed forward into the new decade to increasing levels of success. You don’t have to be a bog tedious real ale type to cut it in your 40s though - the runaway success of Sleaford Mods in last year’s indie press showed that advancing years are no barrier to critical praise whilst wise old elders like Paul Weller and Johnny Marr stepped back into the ring with fresh new licks to prove there’s still plenty of life in British indie. What they have in common is that trademark swagger, the brash R’n’R attitude that runs through virtually all of the decent guitar music that has burst forth from these isles over the years – a pouty, overconfident strut inherited from those that came before them that brings the music to life and makes you want to get up and throw some shapes. We all bemoan the over-gentrification of British indie in these harsh, mercenary times so it’s important that we treasure what still makes it great, a portal for working class youth to blow off some steam and reach out to touch folk across the globe, not just with clever bugger lyrics and a catchy synth line but with a sense of GROOVE. All the hagiography and rose-tinted nostalgia shouldn’t blind us to the fact that during the heydays of Madchester and Britpop most of the punters weren’t sat there deconstructing the music to within an inch of its life, they were too busy dancing their arses off and having a good time to think too hard about what was happening. This isn’t to say that the music didn’t have an intelligence to it, it’s just that the message was one that didn’t need to be articulated in a nice well-spoken accent – it was all about the feeling. You either got it or you didn’t. And even if it mellows with age, it never truly dies.
Those who keep on keepin’ on were hit with a double whammy earlier this year with return to form gems from two of England’s greatest. Madchester Rasputins The Charlatans bounced back from their SECOND death in the band with the gloriously resurgent ‘Modern Nature’ in late January whilst Noel Gallagher reminded us that there was more to him than a string of hilarious press quotes with ‘Chasing Yesterday’, a second release under the High Flying Birds moniker that dropped in early March. Neither act has made the mistake of thinking that they’re still 19 but crucially both seem to remember how they felt when they were – the pace has steadied but the power’s still right there where it should be and we can count ourselves fortunate that both acts are still knocking out decent records after all this time. Indeed, if you’ve ever taken The Charlatans for granted then news that they’d be carrying on following the death of drummer Jon Brookes should have brought things back into stark focus and made you realise how much you’d miss them if they weren’t around. The evergreen indie veterans are pretty much the only band to have charted a course through every movement in British music since the rave era without ever falling off the map or fading into irrelevance – their central role to both Madchester and Britpop may have been supplanted by a more backseat presence in the post millennial landscape of British guitar music but they’ve always been there when you needed them, surfacing every few years with another foray into indie’s more danceable territory. ‘Modern Nature’ tracks back to the early 70s for an almost implausibly upbeat listen, siphoning off the optimistic groove of classic era Stevie Wonder/Curtis Mayfield along with a generous dose of sun-soaked country rock to craft a buoyant, heady mix that hints at a band in love with the world around them rather than grieving over the loss of a key member. They hit a balance between confidence and subtlety that runs through the best of Ian Brown’s solo stuff – see ‘Music Of The Spheres’ for a good example – but their approach sounds like more of a band effort, the four sides of the square closing ranks and moving forward unperturbed by the void behind the drumkit. They can still knock out catchy singles without breaking sweat and the dub-infused lead track ‘Talking In Tones’ keeps up the strike rate nicely whilst the irrepressibly catchy ‘Come Home Baby’ and the sweet AOR flick of ‘Emilie’ set things up nicely for sunnier days of lagered-up revelry. They’re perhaps at their most impressive when they lock into a groove and run with it, ‘So Oh’ turning circles around a delicious acoustic riff while ‘Let The Good Times Be Never Ending’ glides through seven minutes of skytouching funk getting happier by the second. You’d think tragedy would have at least soured their mood if not knocked them off their perch completely but these lads have been here before - the earlier loss of keyboardist Rob Collins hit them at their commercial and critical peak in the mid 90s but did nothing to derail the runaway success of the ‘Tellin Stories’ LP that emerged in his wake and in an ideal world ‘Modern Nature’ would provide similar reward for their tenacity in the face of loss, teeing up a dormant UK indie scene for a summer of love once these tunes have gained a foothold on stereos across the land. As things stand it’s perhaps more realistic to hope for a reappraisal of their oeuvre in view of the chilling prospect of losing them for good – with that in mind get your filthy mitts on this without further ado and then take a trip through everything from ‘Wonderland’ onwards and remind yourself why these guys are at vital as they’ve ever been.
As for Noel, he’s gotten used to taking his time. Having become the indie scene’s go-to figure for a decent quote he doesn’t need to worry about disappearing from the spotlight and the penury of cocky guitar rock at present leaves the road open before him for a comeback anytime he feels like it. ‘Chasing Yesterday’ picks up where his 2011 solo debut left off, combing through his established musical influences to deliver another run of steady-handed compositions tailor made for the calm before the sort of storm he’d have whipped up in his younger days. There’s a consistency of attitude that links his newer material to the cocksure sneer of early Oasis but the end product is a calmer, more focused beast – his urge to put noses out of joint now safely channelled through his reliably entertaining press contributions, he’s now free to flesh out his musical fantasies into sentient form on his own terms and in his own time. His first solo offering took a few by surprise with its leaning towards pastoral pop at the expense of his trademark guitar rock and that’s a balance he redresses at times here, opener ‘Riverman’ seeing him bust out the axe for a rewarding bout of melodic soloing and the fist in the air anthems you know he’s capable of writing come through when needed, ‘Lock All The Doors’ cruising gracefully by like prime-era Britpop whilst ‘You Know You Can’t Go Back’ packs a chorus with a feelgood factor up there with his finest ‘Morning Glory’ bangers. Freed from the anchor of Liam’s provocative pouting his brother is able to simply kick back and unleash slow-release gems that stand up to repeated listens without grating – he’s taken his time writing these tunes and clearly expects us to do the same listening to them. The gentler side of post-millennial Oasis returns on ‘The Girl With The X-Ray Eyes’ and he manages to roll out the same old lyrical tropes (catching the sun, needing more time etc) without sounding trite, even moving into moderately soulful territory with the calculated gamble ‘The Right Stuff’ which hints that his music collection isn’t as pasty white as you might think. If there’s a parallel from his youth then it’s perhaps Paul Weller’s return to the fray as Britpop gathered speed, the strength of his legacy bolstered by his ability to swim along with the tide of musical fashion allowing him to emerge as an authority figure for the new age, capable of dispensing advice but also of taking the stage and leading by example. Consider this Noel’s own ‘Wild Wood’ then, the sound of a man evolving from his angrier roots to embrace a gentler frequency – there’s no apology for his past, musically or otherwise, just a confidence in the path that led him to where he is now and a strident faith in his ability to choose the correct next step. Flanked by journeyman peers such as Weller himself and a revitalised Johnny Marr plus a younger troupe of suitors – Miles Kane, Kasabian et al – Noel’s poised to lead his own movement through the decade as he sees fit, impervious to the caution that has taken hold of today’s UK indie scene and harbouring an understanding of that big ole rock ‘n’ roll heart that pumps the blood through the best of past and present. Back to back these two LPs are more Sunday afternoon than Saturday night but it’ll still take a lot to budge ‘Modern Nature’ and ‘Chasing Yesterday’ from the stereo as the weather warms up and those blue skies and sunshine pints scream out for an adequate soundtrack – 2015 is feeling better by the second.
Check out : ‘Let The Good Times Be Never Ending’ from the Charlies and Noel’s ‘You Know We Can’t Go Back’.
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