Soulsavers’ latest offering Broken was by no means an easy listen, but
it was one of the most atmospheric, haunting and downright brilliant
records I’d heard in a long time.

 
The third album from the English production duo of Rich Machin and Ian
Glover saw them reunited with gloom-monger Mark Lanegan (Screaming
Trees, Queens of The Stone Age) who lent his whiskey-soaked and
nicotine-ravaged vocals to the majority of songs.

 
Sheffield baritone Richard Hawley also put in an appearance, as did
Jason Pierce (Spiritualized), Mike Patton (Faith No More) and Gibby
Haynes (Butthole Surfers).

Yep, it was one hell of a (funeral) party, soundtracked by sinister
pysche-rock, sombre ballads,edgy trip-hop and spiritual soul and
gospel – an album that was both unsettling and beautiful.

You Will Miss Me When I Burn, written by Will Oldham,

was a piano and strings lament, with Lanegan crooning,

“When you have no-one, no-one can hurt you.”

If it didn’t move you, then truly you did not have a heart.

 
The twilight country shuffle of Shadows Fall (with Hawley on backing
vocals) was one of the highlights – all Midnight Cowboy harmonica and
‘weeping’ strings, while Pharoah’s Chariot (with Pierce) was a deathly
Nick Cave-esque track – with a mournful orchestral arrangement and
murderous twangin’ guitar.

There was also an epic take on Gene Clark’s Some Misunderstanding,

with some ragged Neil Young-style riffing.

Sometimes when I’m playing Broken I have an unsettling feeling that
maybe I’m listening to the sort of music that serial killers have on
their headphones when they’re going about their business.

Then to lighten the mood, I just look at the sleevenotes; ‘Recorded in
Los Angeles, New York, San Francisco, London, Berlin, Sydney &
Stoke-on-Trent’. . .

My favourite debut album of 2009 came from the best new band in London, Orphans and Vandals, who combined the epic feel of My Life Story with the tawdry, lo-rent glamour of Pulp, the cynicism of The Auteurs and the art-rock of the Velvet Underground.

Oh, and, more importantly, they had a female string section.

Orphans and Vandals are fronted by`singer/songwriter Al Joshua. Imagine Lou Reed, but if he was stuck between the boroughs of Camden and Islington, rather than walking the mean streets of New York.The five-piece had me transfixed at gigs throughout 2009 – and their album didn’t disappoint – perfectly capturing the edgy atmospherics of their live shows – an elegant, yet twisted, pop tour de force.

I was drawn in by Al’s tales of bed-sit dreaming, wet nights in New Cross, dirty sex with both men and women, Parisian nightlife and seaside cottage getaways in order to escape the loneliness of his King’s Cross box room.

Album highlight  – the beautiful, epic, poetic and unashamedly romantic Argyle Square – was one of my songs of 2009 – a twinkling Belle and Sebastian- style story song, with violin, glockenspiel, clarinet and a Dylanesque harmonica solo thrown in for good measure.

Liquor on Sunday was another favourite – all whoozy harmonium and faded gin palaces.  

Al talked his way through the songs in a Jarvis Cocker-esque delivery, or spat and snarled like Luke Haines. During the staggering, colossal Mysterious Skin, he even sang about someone ejaculating all over him.

So, if you were looking for a grandiose, seedy, yet beautiful, soundtrack to modern London life, then Orphans and Vandals had it, ahem,covered.