Although you may not be aware of Josh Kumra yet, you soon will be. With a killer voice, soulful and silky smooth, displayed on his hit single collaboration ‘Don’t Go’ with Wretch 32, Josh now moves to his own solo project with the release of Good Things Come to Those Who Don’t Wait on April 22^nd.

Whilst talking about collaborating with Wretch 32, Josh found it remarkably easy, having just gone for a meeting with the rapper and coming out with what would become the finished track only “a few hours later.” He then went on to collaborate with Emile Sande on ‘Helicopters and Planes’ which became his first proper single, with [from press release] a “soulful sound which connects the chart-topping re-work of ‘Don’t Go’ to the more acoustic-leaning album to come.”

So, amongst this amalgamation of a hip-hop/acoustic cross-over, where does Kumra fit? When asked, he says he’s “most comfortable with a guitar in his hand and an emotional song to fit.” Amongst all the production on some of the songs on the album, Kumra maintains that “if it doesn’t sound good on an acoustic, it doesn’t make the album.”

This sense of emotion in his songs leads Kumra to citing examples such as ‘Fool to Cry’ by the Rolling Stones on his press release and, when asked about yesterday evening’s line-up release, was naturally happy about the Stones inclusion. With early inspiration coming from the Stones and, amongst others, Eric Clapton who his dad built some furnishings for one time, Kumra spent evenings reminiscing about gigs his father had been to and discovering his record collection, citing the unplugged album by Clapton, Tracey Chapman and a U2 gig at Wembley as particularly memorable. His inspiration may have originally come “straight from his dad’s music” which can be felt in the soul of Kumra’s voice, the songwriting nuances and emotion carried through his music but he is definitely an artist of today.

Throughout the interview, he uses the word “vibe” a fair bit and, right now, is loving that “vibe” of his early inspiration coming through artists such as Ben Howard who he highly praises for Every Kingdom, comparing it to the aforementioned Chapman and arguing that there’s “not a bad track.” His other listening at the moment lies with Gary Clark Jr. (who’s been hailed as a “modern day hendrix”), early Black Keys albums and even Americana.

Kumra’s diversity, throughout his listening and songwriting life, is both reflected in his songs, and the modern mainstream, which we also discussed with Scott Mills. “Whilst the poppy stuff is always around, there’s lots of diversity and ‘feel-good folk vibes’ are breaking through.” 

Hopefully Kumra will be the next ‘feel-good vibe’ breaking through. For him, it’s “all about the music” and, with a big month ahead, including the release of his debut album, this philosophy seems to be working well. He also soon flies to Milan to tour with One Republic to 8,000 people, is playing festivals such as Boardmasters in Newquay where he is due to headline one of the stages and says that all of that will “hopefully lead to a headline tour”. Although big things, big venues, and big audiences that Kumra “gets a buzz from” seem to be on the horizon, he is still “down to earth” and doesn’t shy away from an intimate setting: “that’s where you see if a song works, whether the emotion’s there.”

The novelist, poet, and critic Chinua Achebe died on the 22nd of March. Born in East Nigeria, Achebe grew up in an Igbo village and went on to win a prestigious scholarship at the University of Ibadan. As a young man his nickname was ‘Dictionary’. His career began with broadcasting and ended with a professorship at Brown University. Achebe was the winner of the Man Booker International Literature Prize and described by Nelson Mandela as a writer ‘in whose company the prison walls fell down’.    

     
Achebe’s most famous novel, Things Fall Apart, was released in 1962. It was the first book to tell the story of colonialism from an African perspective; it gave the voiceless a voice. Things Fall Apart explores Achebe’s own experience of the conflict between modern Africa and its traditional oral history. That it remains pertinent today is demonstrated by the fact that it has sold 10 million copies worldwide and has been published in 50 different languages. Following its success, Heinemann launched a series of books entitled the African Writers Series, and Achebe was made the first editor.

The status of Africa and African writers necessarily affected Achebe throughout his career. He was keenly aware of the clash of cultures between Africa and the West – both during and after the colonial era. This is most apparent in his famous response to the well-loved novel, Heart of Darkness. In a lecture of 1975 Achebe declaimed the demeaning cultural assumptions underlying the work and accused Joseph Conrad of racism. Despite being outspoken against Conrad, Achebe has never shied away from criticising Africa. In Things Fall Apart, it is Okonkwo’s pride and love of tradition that lead to his downfall. This underlines the many ways in which nationalism and out-dated understanding can be destructive. Achebe was also critical of Nigeria, both in his life and his work. He twice refused the country’s second-highest award, the Commander of the Order of the Federal Republic as a public stance against the government.

Achebe will be remembered worldwide as the ‘father’ of African literature. In Anthills of the Savannah he wrote that it ‘is the story that owns us’. The true magic of Achebe’s fable-like stories is that they weave the reader into the fabric of the African oral tradition of storytelling. Old proverbs are ‘the palm oil with which words are eaten’. The brilliance of his imaginative powers sprung from the legends of the Igbo people.

I spent a lot of time being embarrassed about quite how much I loved Gossip Girl. In my mind, the series was a perfectly legitimate blend of society drama, dark humour and incredibly attractive and well-dressed people, but to those unfamiliar with the Manhattan melodrama, it was, put simply, a show for girls. And I’m a guy. 

I face the same sort of naïve prejudice with Girls, a show that has almost as much gender bias in the title. It, as you all ought to know, is the story of four twenty-something-year-old ‘girls’ who have liberal arts degrees and few employment prospects. I might piss standing up, but that’s something I can relate to. Indeed, the whole series focuses much less on gender neuroses than people seem to think, with the primary themes being things like love, friendship and maturity, rather than vaginas, menstruation and cystitis, as its detractors would have you believe. 

Admittedly, I spend less time in the bath with my friends (and, generally, less time unnecessarily naked) but it’s a practical human resonance that makes Girls so accessible. Even though I spent years trying to shoehorn my life problems into the Chuck Bass/Blair Waldorf school of dysfunction, when push came to shove, I’m just not as sexy, rich or evil as the cast of Gossip Girl.

I can, however, relate myself to how uncharmingly charming Girls is. The very basis of the show works under the assumption that the viewer will read their own insecurities in these characters, hence the reason that the central quartet are so flawed, and the scenarios depicted in the show inevitably end in grim sex or burst ear drums. As the show’s clichéd tagline says, they’re ‘living the dream, one mistake at a time’, but it’s the mistakes, rather than the dream, that make Girls what it is.

To that extent, the second series has been an absolute joy. Whilst series one might, optimistically, have been described as ‘bittersweet’, series two and can only be referred to as ‘relentlessly horrible’. Hannah, the character that I find easiest to relate to, has signed a triumphant eBook deal, but also descended into a cesspit of anxiety for which the word ‘griminal’ was coined. Marnie, the Serena van der Woodsen of the show, has become a depressing reminder of the fact that, even if I do well in my degree, my life will turn out shit. Shoshanna continues to bounce from one inconsequential scene stealing appearance to another, this season dragging Ray along with her in television’s most implausible relationship. And Jessa continues to be just as irritating as ever, her marriage to Roy from The IT Crowd lasting about as long as an over-enthusiastic 19-year-old in a thigh crease (see Episode 7 for further details).

But the general darkness of the series is underscored, as always, by being funny, fresh and honest (not to mention the great music, seriously, there’s some Cher Lloyd in this season). Lena Dunham’s wit is moving further away from its earlier role as a Woody Allen imitation, and is finding something closer to its own voice. Yes, this means that there are more sequences on the toilet, arse splinters and a bizarre masturbatory detour featuring Patrick Wilson, but it’s also reassuring to know that the show is finding its own feet. Girls has always been heralded for its originality, but only now, amidst the gloom, is Dunham starting to feel totally free of the shadow of her idols. 

Of course, it’ll be another year before we get to see season three of the show, but if you haven’t yet watched the first season (in which case, why on earth have you read this far?) then you should immediately find a way to rectify this pop cultural failing. Do you want to be part of the zeitgeist? Or are you still planning your own Harlem Shake?

Ignore the femininity of the title; this is as gender neutral as The Great British Bake-Off and, despite my superfluous penis, is a show that tells me more about myself than Match of the Day ever will.

★★★★☆


Four Stars  

 The Strokes are the perfect representation of the current ‘Palma Violets problem’ I discussed in a previous review. At the turn of the century they were being hailed as the next big thing, the saviour’s of rock n’ roll and all those closely associated, and overused, clichés when discussing new bands on the block.

To be honest, I’ve never been a true fan of the Strokes, not because I haven’t liked their music (besides the complete annihilation of ‘Last Nite’ by various novice garage rock bands and overly-intoxicated middle-age men at mid-week karaoke), but because I simply haven’t been cool or indie enough to admit it.

The Strokes have always been, what my parents would describe as, ‘achingly trendy’ and, even if their debut Is This It had been terrible, it would have still been hailed as a huge success due to the tremendous expectations placed on the band once The Modern Age EP had catapulted them into the public consciousness. 

Is This It contains some of the bands early indie anthems, such as ‘Last Nite’, that just refused to go away but the problem with their subsequent releases lay with their initial success in that, musically at least, it was completely overrated. Furthermore, the band did that standard rock n’ roll thing of thinking that they’re all too good for each other (Solo album anyone?) and had a ‘hiatus’ (Codeword: break-up) amongst rumours of the standard inter-band tantrums and tensions. 

The benchmark set by Is This It was humongous and has never quite been met, but is it this time? In short, no. But, quite simply, it just doesn’t matter 

Although 2001, and the release of Is This It, seems historically recent, musically it is definitely not!Twelve years of music is the difference between Cliff Richard’s ‘Summer Holiday’and Queen’s ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’; Live Aid and Radiohead’s Ok Computer. 

In Countdown Machine, this natural passing of time is definitely reflected in a maturity of sound. Long gone are the days of that same ‘indie guitar-band’ beat, now adopted by the Vaccines and the aforementioned Palma Violets, on everything from ‘Last Nite’ and ‘Someday’ to 2011’s ‘Under Cover of Darkness’.    

 Whilst the expectations of the ‘Strokes sound’ are almost reverted to on ‘Partners in Crime’, elsewhere on the album there is a sense of maturity, development and, above all, excitement at the possibilities of a new ‘Strokes sound.’ Whilst other critics have criticized the band for supporting another Casablancas solo project this isn’t fair, and unrepresentative of the album as a whole, bursting with collective energy. Tracks such as ‘80s Comedown Machine’ remain experimental yet strangely accessible whilst the album is littered with poppy ‘feel-good’ bursts of oomph such as ‘Welcome to Japan’ putting aside whatever ‘inter-band disputes’ may have been rumoured to have arisen as a result of the bands meteoric rise to fame.

The stand-out track though, and the best representation of a sense of musical maturity, collective experimentation, and the all-round ‘feel good’ factor being creatively combined within all aspects of the album is within it’s opening track ‘Tap Out’.

The band has recently gained comparisons to Eighties New Wave which can certainly be felt within the understated, yet surprisingly upbeat, chorus of the album’s opener yet I also immediately felt comparisons with more contemporary groups such as Coconut Records and Bombay Bicycle Club through the infectiously repetitive guitar riff and sense of rhythmic tension, and yet simultaneously somehow a sense of rhythmic fluidity, both within the drums, the bass, and, importantly, how they inter-lock. 

The song is also, whether intentionally or not, a reflection of the band’s own reflective state, with lyrics such as ‘‘gotta get my hands on something new’’, ‘‘decide my past, define my life’’ and various repetitions of the word ‘’drifting.’’ A fantastic album opener and testament to, whether the band know it or not, the fact that the Strokes don’t need to meet the ‘benchmark’ set by previous albums such as Is This It. Their new material represents a new level of maturity, a new set of musical ideas and, almost, what feels like an entirely new band.  

All links to artists/songs appear in Spotify, other links are to articles.