Albums of the week: Troye Sivan, The Kooks and Idles

Troye Sivan - Bloom

Polydor

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Eversince his days as a successful YouTuber, candour has been Troye Sivan’s trump card. It’s this insistence on integrity that motivated the Johannesburg-born, Perth-raised singer to come out as gay via video in 2013.

The 23-year-old has upped the ante for this follow-up to his 2015 debut. Where Blue Neighbourhood had Sivan cast as something of an ingenue, on Bloom he’s revelling in his sexuality.

The title track pairs sparkling electro-pop with a garden-based conceit that’s more euphemistic than it is metaphorical, while slow-jam Animal describes infatuation. What’s most impressive is that Sivan’s songs feel universal. Bloom delivers glorious pop that is as intelligently constructed as it is unabashedly emotional.

by Gemma Samways

Idles - Joy As An Act of Resistance

(Partisan)

****

Idles'’ self-released debut, Brutalism, was hailed a punk masterpiece, not least because of its honesty in addressing grief.

Frontman Joe Talbot lost his mother while making the album and the grief ran wild, as did the burden of expectation; struggling under the weight of addictions, Talbot raged through his music. Now Talbot’s gaze turns to mindfulness rather than wrath. Through the lens of ferocious punk, positivity and vulnerability are encouraged. Samaritans and Colossuses tear up masculine tropes. This is another masterpiece from the talented Bristol five-piece.

by Liz Aubrey

The Kooks - Let’s Go Sunshine

(Lonely Cat/AWAL)

***

Despite a misfiring move into funk a on their last album, The Kooks seem to be indestructible. Let’s Go Sunshine should maintain their momentum with its arsenal of jangly melodies and Pritchard’s slightly mannered vocal. His storytelling style of songwriting is evident on Chicken Bone, with its nod to The Kinks and The Rolling Stones. The back-to-basics approach sometimes goes too far — the chorus of Pamela wouldn’t have passed muster in the dying days of Britpop. But it’s a rare dip in quality control on an unfashionable yet infectious record that draws on a long-gone era of British guitar bands.

by Andre Paine

Anna Calvi - Hunter

(Domino)

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It's five years since Anna Calvi’s last album, during which the singer-songwriter has used her time to build up to her strongest musical statement yet. Her third album is an open, raw exploration of gender and sexuality, characterised by wild guitar flourishes and lyrics that expose her masculine side with striking imagery. Hunter also features much of her most beautiful music, including the languid Swimming Pool and the gently building Eden. She’s also in full command of her instrument. Throughout, even when tackling gender ambiguity, Calvi (right) sounds bold, imperious and certain of her place in the world.

by David Smyth

Tord Gustavsen Trio - The Other Side

(ECM)

****

Ushering in autumn with grace is Norwegian pianist Gustavsen, whose talents shine on a mix of original compositions and arrangements of chorales including a groove-led take on Bach’s Schlafes Bruder. New double-bassist Sigurd Hole has a way with modal folk melodies. Longtime drummer Jarle Vespestad is a luminous presence; Gustavsen’s dancing pianism makes the melodic Taste and See a highlight. Throughout the trio reconfigure the church music of Gustavsen’s youth into new abstract forms. They play the EFG London Jazz Festival on November 16.

by Jane Cornwell

Sans - Kulku

Cloud Valley Music

***

Sans is a multicultural group with a Nordic sensibility. There’s a meditative quality to the music and the vocals are in Finnish, thanks to singer Sanna Kurki-Suonio and her daughter Erika Hammarberg. But the other musicians are Armenian (Tigran Aleksanyan on the reedy duduk) and British (Ian Blake on various other reeds and the group’s leader, Andrew Cronshaw, on various zithers). The opening Pursi - The Rowing Song is playful, haunting and in touch with the elements. Other super soulful tracks draw on Spanish and Scottish Gaelic traditions. Alarmingly, the most entrancing piece is the final one with its plangent, lamenting duduk melody and softly plucked stings. The words say “I forgot all joy, Stopped singing the songs” which doesn’t bode well for future albums.

by Simon Broughton

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