Album reviews: Primal Scream | Nathan Evans | Wendy James | The Sea Kings

The combative new album from Primal Scream is an aural feast, writes Fiona Shepherd

Bobby Gillespie | Adam PeterJohnson

Primal Scream: Come Ahead (BMG) ★★★★

Nathan Evans: 1994 (Polydor) ★★

Wendy James: The Shape of History (The Wendy James Label/Proper Music) ★★★★

The Sea Kings: Fear Is All Around (Iffy Folk Records) ★★★★

Primal Scream take up the gauntlet in time-honoured Glaswegian style on their new album. The creative fight is still strong on Come Ahead, a pleasingly refreshing collection from a band who at one point looked set on celebrating the 30th birthday of their classic Screamadelica album right up to its 40th anniversary.

The a capella gospel intro of opening track Ready to Go Home gives way to new Scream territory - arguably the funkiest bassline the band have ever committed to tape. Next they layer disco strings onto a David Holmes rhythm track, while Bobby Gillespie prepares to meet his maker, intoning in the lower, less reedy end of his range to create a Kraftwerk-meets-Funkadelic shimmy of an opener.

Gillespie returns to his usual wispy delivery on Love Insurrection but the lyrics on “the dangers of binary thinking” are fighting talk, while terse funky guitar, more dramatic disco strings, wah-wah guitar and psychedelic woodwind are woven into the sonic fabric.

The aural feast continues with the graceful balm of Heal Yourself, jazzy lassitude of Melancholy Man and sassy strings of Love Ain’t Enough. Innocent Money sounds like Rip, Rig + Panic playing the Charlie’s Angels theme tune, with a spoken word interlude by Renee Alynne which builds on the lyrical theme of class struggle.

Circus of Life is a spacey Afrobeat-infused percussive number about addiction from a band who have lost two members, Robert Young and Martin Duffy, to substance/alcohol abuse, while False Flags is more overtly autobiographical, inspired by Gillespie’s late father (also the supercool cover star) and his employment options as a young working class man.

Come Ahead becomes more lyrically combative in its closing stages. Psychedelic dystopia Deep Dark Waters steers in a disturbing direction, the jittery rhythms of The Centre Cannot Hold unleash some Can-meets-Dr John hoodoo and Settler’s Blues is a dreamy ballad on Scotland’s historical role as oppressed and oppressor.

Nathan Evans | Daisy Carberry

In contrast, former postal worker-turned-sea shanty sensation Nathan Evans sounds loved up on 1994, his second album but the first clear showcase of his own songwriting. His chirpy Celtic folk pop is generic Caledonian Ed Sheeran fodder, embracing the brazen, gleeful clichés of Galway Girl for his own Highland Girl and the tinny pop jig Flowers in the Water.

Sweet Mountain Rose and Perfect Storm are both first wedding dance contenders, the former with its whisky-laced romantic metaphors and the latter with its childhood sweetheart schmaltz. There is a slight change of tack on bluegrass-flavoured confessional I’m a Man, the hands-in-the-air rave pop of Days Of Our Lives and most notably on the mental burnout of Paper Planes.

Wendy James | David Leigh Dodd

The Shape of History, the tenth album by former Transvision Vamp frontwoman Wendy James is “a love letter to life so far”, a variety pack of her influences covering the airy Sixties pop of This Declaration of Love, sludge garage of The Crack and the Boom of the Creeps and the Goons, pounding retro rock of Step Aside Roadkill, propulsive Giorgio Moroder pulse of Freedomsville and the exuberant beat pop of the title track with the confidence of a musician who has paid her dues and emerged liberated and enthused by unfettered creativity.

Glasgow-based quartet The Sea Kings reconvene after a decade-long hiatus, and revive the second album which was recorded but never released first time round. Fear Is All Around is a stealthy grower of a collection, from the ringing indie melodrama of the title track via the gothic jangle of What Will Come To Me and intrigue of the Crematoria Dostoyevsky to the indie prayer of The Bevin Boy, an Oasis-y ballad with softer, dreamier edges.

CLASSICAL

Britten: The Prince of the Pagodas (Hallé) ★★★★

For Benjamin Britten, dance tended to play an integral role in his output rather than an exclusive one. It features, functionally and memorably, in such glittering operatic scores as Gloriana and Death in Venice. When he did turn his head to full-length ballet, as in his 1957 Prince of the Pagodas for Sadler’s Wells, it became clear he was perfectly attuned to the task, though it has never quite attained the lasting popularity of his operas. So it’s an interesting choice as an early project for the Hallé’s new chief conductor Kahchun Wong. There’s no lack of colour in this performance, the nervy, mercurial narrative teaming with intrigue, from heraldic fanfares and skittish dances to exotic imagery and fearsome menace. It’s a longish (2CD) listen, but a largely satisfying one. Ken Walton

FOLK

Steve Knightley: The Winter Yards (Hands On Music) ★★★★

The first solo album in 17 years from Steve Knightley is quite an event, and the former frontman of Show of Hands doesn’t hold back, his songs suffused with humanity and sung with conviction. His opener, Transactions, for instance, is a reproachful voice against injustice, while the title track The Ride (The Winter Yards) reflects the uncertain fortunes of a travelling showground family. I’m not entirely convinced by his Hispanic excursion, Maria, with Madrid band Track Dogs, but there is much to relish: the bluesy shuffle of If You Come Back, laced with the whine of Philip Henry’s dobro; Remember This Kiss, all tender regret, co-written and performed with Blue Rose Code’s Ross Wilson; and The Mermaid, a lusty drinking anthem. Requiem sees Knightley unaccompanied but for the Lost Sound Choir in a rugged voiced, solemn salute to wartime dead, utilising the tune The Parting Glass. Jim Gilchrist