School's in (Sorry Kids And Teachers)

chrisweeks1020
11 minutes ago
10 min read

Starring

Cassandra Jenkins, Flopsy's Dream, Kara-Lis Coverdale, Marshall Allan, Phoebe Rings, Pulp, SunYears

The Front Runners

My Light, My Massage Parlour : Cassandra Jenkins

It must be easy for artists to get sucked into short term thinking. Where are we on tour tomorrow? Where’s the next song coming from? Cassandra Jenkins bucks that trend.

This is a companion piece / follow up to her 2024 album ‘My Light, My Destroyer’. Four of the songs are clearly connected. ‘Omakase of Time’, Delphinium Bliss’, ‘Betelgeuse Masseuse’ and 'Haley’ are all echoes of the earlier album. The narrative arc stretches back to 2021’s ‘An Overview On Phenomenal Nature’. She’s sung to us about her growing confusion and dissatisfaction with life, reached an epiphany of sorts and now stands on the brink of something new and exciting.

The pieces here are deeply reflective, mainly piano pieces that nod to the massage parlour experience while dealing in much deeper emotions. There’s a nu classical feel, similar to the work of Olafur Arnalds. It nudges smooth jazz in places thanks to the soothing sax that appears on ‘Betelgeuse Masseuse’, ‘Omakese of Time’ and elsewhere.

The tunes are linked by a chirping ambience like crickets and embellished discreetly by soft strings and smooth saxophone. They’re ambient but with melody and it's lovely. There are no vocals as such. A gorgeous speaking voice makes occasional appearances (presumably Ms Jenkins’) and I’ve discovered I’m a big fan of the ambience created by overheard conversations. Ambient it may be, and sounds of nature may help to carry the tunes along, but this never heads into new age territory.

The effect is to create a sense of being on the edge of some new, exciting adventure. ‘Omakase of Time’ captures the feeling of the night calling you down to a new city. It marks an end to solitude and an imminent rejoining of community. If the album is occasionally a little sombre, that’s only because it’s music for deep, irreversible life changing moments.

This is both a supremely relaxing and impressive album and a continuation of a story that marks Cassandra Jenkins out as an important contemporary artist.

Taster Track : Omakase of Time

More : Pulp

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. The main reason for setting up Pop In The Real World was to review albums away from the hype of their release. It seems more necessary to do that when it’s an event release, and Pulp’s first new album in 24 years certainly falls into that category. I feel vindicated because I can confidently assert that this is a very good album indeed.

Of course, there’s a benefit to resurrecting the Pulp brand. You can’t blame them for that, even as you acknowledge that this feels more like a Jarvis Cocker solo album aided by like minded collaborators than a true band effort.

You’d expect someone as smart as Jarvis to recognise the suspicion of trading on past glories. I love, though, that he references his trademark “Are you sure?” from ‘Common People’ in ‘Grown Ups’, and answers his own question in ‘Background Noise’ when he comments “Don’t remember the first time”.

If there’s a theme to this album it’s the recognition that whilst ageing brings chances to reclaim missed opportunities, insecurity leaves you unsure if they should be taken. He’s excellent at pinning down the bitter sweet pain of this.

Jarvis sounds unchanged, perhaps a little more reliant on poetic monologues than before. He’s reflective and personal, and it sounds as if he’s acquired an education to go along with his life experiences. He hasn’t lost the slightly louche delivery although he has moved on from the spitting outrage of, say, ‘Misfits’ or ‘Common People’. The overall tone is melancholy now, more than seedy. He’s less a rebel rouser and more resigned and weary, trying to rally himself for one last adventure. Lyrically, I thought it felt awkward at first, but as the album proceeds the lyrics feel less forced, progressing past the initial stumbling that comes when meeting old friends for the first time in 24 years.

There are touchstones to be heard from his past. He raids the multitude of styles perfected by early versions of the band as they sought a breakthrough. ‘Grown Ups’ is perhaps the closest thing here to the Pulp of ‘Different Class’. ‘The excellent ‘Got To Have Love’ harks back to their readiness for dance hall days. ‘A Sunset’ is Jarvis at his smartest, channelling the New Seekers into a comment on rampant monetisation.

This isn’t just an exercise in nostalgia though. ‘My Sex’ is a new sound, futuristic and oriental and showing Jarvis’s continuing willingness to wade into contentious areas of debate. ‘The Hymn of the North’ is in full, widescreen Cinemascope, breaking free of the old perspectives contained within bedsit walls.

‘More’ succeeds in retaining the old Pulp spirit while adding new dimensions. It’s a very good album.

Taster Track : Got To Have Love

The Chasing Pack

Pleasant Pudding : Flopsy’s Dream

Yes. I know. Why would anyone risk their credibility by admitting to listening to, let alone liking an album by an act called Flopsy’s Dream? Well, one reason, the most important one, is that it’s a very good album. And a second reason, unless I’m guilty of overthinking it, is that it’s very clever too.

Flopsy’s Dream is the work of Thomas Davies, who is also ‘Geowizard’ the YouTuber and adventurer. He specialises in tricky games such as crossing Britain in a completely straight line, or passing through cities without using roads and canals. You're already more interested, aren't you? We’ve left cute Beatrix Potter characters behind and we’re well into the much cooler Tin Tin territory.

Here’s another surprise. This music is nothing like you’d expect from the backstory. It’s described as dream pop, and it certainly is. But whilst other dream poppers swirl in and out of your head, Flopsy’s Dream deals with a niche part of dream sleep - the period of sleep paralysis where you’re awake, but unable to move.

‘Never Be Annoyed Again’ demonstrates this best. It’s as woozily enchanting and charming as all the songs here but before the end it switches into a snippet of unrelated football scores before returning to the song, lapsing into sudden silence (a sudden lurch back into sleep?) and, finally, re-emerging to fade quietly away. It’s unexpected and at odds with everything else. There’s a similar, brief impact to be felt from ‘Great School Trip’. Thirty-two seconds in, the fully fledged production of ‘Great School Trip’ trips out as if you’ve lost half the channels before kicking back in. I love these tricks. They’re surprising and feel as if Davies is playing games with us as he goes.

He earns the right to do that, because the quality of his guitar work across the album is excellent. Songs such as ‘Loyal Girl’ and ‘Michael’ capture the strange sensations of the dream world, being effortlessly cosmic and soothingly gentle at the same time. At times, there’s a yachtrock tone in the mix, that may remind you of travelling back from holiday late at night, wrapped up on the back seat of a warm car half listening to the relaxing sounds of your parents’ musical choices as you go. His vocals are vulnerable, a little quavery at times.

Ignore the connotations that may come from his performing name. Like the best dreams, this is warm, different and subtly unlike anything else around.

Taster Track : Loyal Girl

From Where You Came : Kara-Lis Coverdale

I’m not sure how useful this review will be, so apologies to anyone reading this and to Kara-Lis Coverdale.

She’s a Canadian composer who became beguiled by the possibilities of electro-acoustic music. That’s what drew me in, but it quickly became clear that this electro-acoustic music is filtered through a strong classical mindset. Shrugging off the feeling that I’m not clever enough to appreciate or value this, it is a record you can lose yourself in. If, that is, you can hear it as something ambient, zoning in and out without following the timbre of each note. The trouble I found is that even in doing so, focusing on it is a little like trying to grip jelly. It keeps slipping away and landing in a mess around you.

First impressions of ‘Eternity’ are of something mystical, New Age and wrapped up in a Lord of the Rings or Arthurian concept. There’s a clue to this in the Lady of the Lake imagery on the cover. It reinforces the sense that this is art beyond the realms of pop, and you’ll need to dig for any overt and immediate melodies. If you do, but you can find them in ‘Flickers In the Air of Night’. There’s a grandeur to this music, but it becomes a bit of a barrier to the untrained ear too.

The whole album strikes me as a series of impressionist vignettes, an experimental painting where a splodge of paint somehow captures something that only a lucky few will comprehend..

It’s where that music approaches closer to the realms of electronic music that it worked best for me. ‘The Placid Illusion’ borrows the hypnotic workings of the electronic world with some success. ‘Offload Flip’ is the most electronically driven. It’s an abrupt and startling mood change, but not an unwelcome one.

As always, I like to offer a second opinion where I’ve not understood an album. Here’s a review published in The Guardian to offer a different perspective.

https://www.theguardian.com/music/2025/may/16/kara-lis-coverdale-from-where-you-came-review

Taster Track : The Placid Illusion

New Dawn : Marshall Allen

Milestone birthdays often trigger something new, make a statement or shift you out of your comfort zone. Longstanding jazz saxophonist and member of the Sun Ra Arkestra, Marshall Allen, recorded and toured his debut solo album. Not long afterwards he turned 101.

This is, in no way, the record of an old man. I ‘m not familiar with his career, but this doesn’t sound or feel like the last throw of waning powers. It feels more like a celebration of various jazz styles he’s witnessed over the past 75 years.

It’s an album of two halves. The early tracks return to the relaxed big band era beloved of Frank Sinatra. The contribution of Neneh Cherry to ‘New Dawn’ calls to mind Nat King Cole. The second half is more free form and, seemingly, improvised. It suggests the music that Marshall Allen was able to make his own.

Warmth and happiness spread through this album like news of a new baby in the family. ‘African Sunset’ is a relaxed twinkle in the eye. It’s the type of jazz you wouldn’t be surprised to hear coming from an Ibizan beach cafe, far removed from the pyrotechnic virtuosity of the Sun Ra Arkestra. ‘New Dawn’ imbues a spirit of friendship in the music. You can sense Allen and the band loosening up for ‘Are You Ready’ - jazz in a rock and roll style.

‘Sonny’s Dance’ marks the change into a more free form style. The saxophone exhales the music so that it hops like a caffeinated frog. ‘Boma’ is an entry to the world of jazz funk. It’s the sound of the years slipping away. The closing track, ‘Angels and Demons At Play’, sees the band playfully testing each other out, probing here and throwing down the gauntlet of improvisation there.

This is the album of a man who has spent his whole adult life making music and it’s suffused with the contented realisation that it has all been worth it. If you love music, especially the music beyond jazz, listen to it and share the joy that making music brings.

Taster Track : African Sunset

Aseurai : Phoebe Rings

Phoebe Rings offer dream pop for the kind of dream that is warm and happy, from which you don’t want to wake. That’s not always a good thing.

I enjoyed this album, but found it raised a few questions. Midway through and I’m feeling luxuriously pampered into a state of blissful comfort by songs that were overflowing with prettiness. By the time I reached ‘Static’ I was wallowing in music that required little of me, except to lie back and think of nothing.

Is that enough? Was this soothing and restorative, or soporific and enervating? Is it too flawless, or unrealistically pretty? This is the kind of music you’d hope to hear in the spa, but rather than rebooting and restoring you it might leave you impatient to move on. Part of the reason for that is that it felt as if the songs were sung for me, not to me. Listening to the album, there was little engagement with the band.

However if, unlike me, you tend not to overthink what you’re listening to, there is a lot here to like. ‘Aseurai’ has a retro, cinematic feel . ‘Not A Necessity’ triggers an image of flying above fluffy pillow clouds with everything perfectly controlled for your pleasure. There’s a feeling of effortless movement through each song. Their jazz backgrounds aren’t heard in the music, but they are felt in the cool lounge vibe and mastery of their instruments. They create melodies that caress you. The shift to a form of ensemble disco on ‘Get Up’ where everyone contributes their part is a highlight. The lullaby sway to ‘Playground Song’ is another. And for all the concerns about wallowing lazily in the music, the final song ‘Goodnight, was an excellent way to bring the Phoebe Rings experience to a close, sparking a genuine sense of regret that it was over.

At the end of the record I switched to a self made playlist comprising a wide range of genres and pressed shuffle. Up came a restorative burst of Green Day. Enjoy Phoebe Rings, but follow them with a bracing shower or strong coffee.

Taster Track : Get Up

The Song Forlorn : SunYears

SunYears is the second solo album of Peter from Peter, Bjorn and John. Peter, Bjorn and John carry the weight of one song in particular - the catchy ‘Young Folks’ which has racked up 100 million plays on MySpace, a further 637 million plays on Spotify and 83 million views of the authorised video on YouTube. Peter, Bjorn and John are now on the backburner and Peter Moren is now showing us who he really is.

He’s an indie rocker with a folk heart. Rather than moulding his songs to the taste of a band, he’s now able to bring in the collaborators to realise the songs as he means them to be heard. He’s not an artist finding his way. His songs are written from within, written to his rules and principles. Like Johnny Marr he knows his worth, and if a song like ‘(Going To A) Cruel Country’ or ‘The Song Forlorn’ is not to your taste, too bad.

He writes strong songs with energy, commitment and feeling. There’s a dose of Scandinavian melancholy in the mix too that places a shadow over the album, particularly on the wintery ‘The Song Forlorn’. There’s a sense of singing what has been held back for too long ,as a way of asserting his independence. He is now free to sing these things. Wang Chung’s Jack Hughes has trod a similar path to great effect.

The guitar work comes as a nice surprise. ‘Where Are We?’ is a brief limber up to open the album, but it carries over into ‘Dark Eyes’. It’s most noticeable on ‘Swamp Mob’, another example of his bluesy guitar playing that shows it to be his first love. It’s a loose and meandering jam that feels totally free, a release from the dark edges that surround it on the album.

Elsewhere, ‘Last Night On The Mountain’ is a string soaked slice of desperate folk energy. ‘If You Were To Ask’ is yearning, moving and quietly epic.

Peter Moren is now his own man, and it’s worth getting to know him.

Taster Track : Last Night On The Mountain