Review: Bedtime Stories EP by Green Dolphin

I’m bored with bands.

No, that’s not true. I’m bored with boring bands.

You know the type: four white dudes, two guitars, a bass and some drums. Mediocracy and musical dreariness are no obstacle for them, they somehow find success in spite of, or perhaps because of, their blandness.

So imagine my trepidation when I was asked by a very nice young man (via an Idles Facebook group, see I don’t hate all four-man-bands) to review an EP by his four-man-band Green Dolphin.

What if I hated it?

Even worse, what if I had no opinion at all? What if I found it beige?

The good news is… I enjoyed it! Even found my jaded old toe tapping to certain songs. So, here it is: my review of Bedtime Stories EP by Green Dolphin.

Track 1: Can’t Put My Finger On It

This track has a great summery sound, as does the whole EP. I think Green Dolphin would be a perfect festival band. I could happily kick back in a field with a sunburnt nose, a pint of cider and this tune. In terms of comparisons, Can’t Put My Finger on it has a lilting Vampire Weekend meets Pigeon Detectives feel.

Track 2: No More Matchstick Eyes

Less bouncy than Track 1, this has a nostalgic vibe that only the young can capture. A teenage summer daydream in the vein of Ash, with an opening refrain that reminds me of Slight Return by The Bluetones. You can tell how old I am by all the 90s band references, but this track in particular had me catching some serious “where did my youth go” feels. In a good way.

Track 3: The Narcissist

This one starts in a very similar way to Track 2, and I started thinking “oh dear, are they just a one-trick 90s nostalgia pony”, but the second half of this song blew my concerns out of the water. As the tempo picks up and the frantic guitar starts wailing over the incessant drum beat, and the singer Sam starts to spit his lyrics out in a Frank Black staccato, I wanted to chuck on my DMs and go crowd surfing.

Track 4: Underdamping

This is my favourite track on the EP. It has echoes of The Vaccines and The Strokes, and I like the cracking voice of the singer in this one (a long day recording perhaps?). Then it takes a Middle Eastern disco twist in the final third and I love it even more. The meandering melody over the thumping beat makes me want dance.

Track 5: Swallowtail

From my favourite track to my least favourite. A bit pedestrian and ploddy for my liking, however it is saved by a fantastic string arrangement. The EP doesn’t end with a bang, but not with a whimper either. I would say it ends with a gentle, heartfelt hug.

So, my overall verdict on Bedtime Stories by Green Dolphin? Yes, they are a band that wear their influences on their sleeve, but not in a derivative way. They would be huge fun to see live, particularly at a summer festival. I think Green Dolphin have almost found their own sound, and when they do, they will be a band to watch out for.

Below is the Soundcloud link where you can hear the EP for yourself in full, also the links to the Green Dolphin socials.

The EP be available on Spotify from 31st March.







Be Bold, Part 8: Janelle

It never ceases to amaze me that Janelle Monae isn’t an all-conquering global mega-star by now. Since her 2010 breakout album The ArchAndroid, her profile has bubbled just outside the surface of wide-spread popular consciousness. When I recently told some friends how excited I was that I had booked tickets to her London show, they didn’t even know who I was talking about. Why isn’t she as ubiquitous as Bruno Mars? As Rihanna? I have to wonder if it would be different if she flashed more flesh, rather than wearing her trademark tuxedos.

Remember when they used to say I look too mannish

Black girl magic, y’all can’t stand it

Janelle Monae refuses to compromise. Women in the music industry are expected to look a certain way, sound a certain way, sing about certain things. Look at the change in Lady Gaga’s aesthetics as she has gained more autonomy as an artist. Think back to the lyrics of Pink’s Don’t Let Me Get Me: “LA told me, you’ll be a pop star, all you have to change is everything you are”. But maybe it is our concept of what a pop-star is, especially a female pop-star, that needs to change.

Monae is making the slickest, the realest (so good, so good, so fucking real, as she would say) pop music around, and on her own terms. Who else out there would create a seven suite afro-futurist opus complete with accompanying “emotion picture”? Sonically The ArchAndroid, and her 2018 album Dirty Computer, put me in mind of a more cerebral Midnite Vultures era Beck; a bricolage mish-mash of different genres and styles, an electro-hip-hop-soul-groove-funk-rock-dream-folk masterpiece. But Beck never built a whole dystopian world for his musical creations to inhabit. From the outset, Monae worked with laser-like focus on her vision for a post-modern Metropolis musical mythology. Neither has Beck been in two Oscar nominated films, for not only can Monae sing, dance, write, perform, play and compose, she can also act, as her turns in Moonlight and Hidden Figures show. Her choice of roles is not taken lightly. Both are films about black identities that do not conform to stereotypes.

Already got a Oscar for the casa

Runnin’ down Grammys with the family

Prolly give a Tony to the homies

Prolly get a Emmy dedicated to the

Highly melanated, ArchAndroid orchestrated

Monae has cited Dorothy Gale from The Wizard of Oz as a musical influence. There are a lot of similarities between The ArchAndroid and St Vincent’s album Actor, which was directly inspired by Disney films and The Wizard of Oz. Both artists speak in a cinematic musical language. Both have been accused of being arch, aloof story tellers. Female artists are pigeon-holed as weird and non-mainstream if they refuse to sing (supposedly) auto-biographical songs about boys. While her earlier works may have featured a rather chaste human/android love story, between Monae’s robot alter-ego Cindi Mayweather and her flesh and blood lover Anthony Greendown, there is no doubt that Dirty Computer is a sexual album.

See, everything is sex

Except sex, which is power

You know power is just sex

You screw me and I’ll screw you too

Everything is sex

Except sex, which is power

You know power is just sex

Now ask yourself who’s screwing you

It drips with sexuality but a non-heteronormative sexuality; a sexuality that cannot be packaged and paraded for the male-gaze. It is autonomous, it is joyous, it is inclusive. Just watch Janelle and her dancers wearing those beautiful pink vulva-pants in the video for her song Pynk, and realise this is a celebration of all women, even women who do not have vaginas.

When introducing Kesha at the 2018 Grammy Awards, Janelle gave a moving speech that focused on the Time’s Up movement. “We come in peace,” she said, “but we mean business.” Janelle and Beyonce and Solange and Gaga, with their emotion pictures and mind-blowing stage shows, are taking the helm from James Brown and Prince and David Bowie, because what male stars are worthy of stepping into their shoes? Drake? Kanye? Ed Sheeran? They are the hardest working women in showbiz, pushing creative boundaries, re-writing the definition of the female singer/songwriter. They mean business. At a time when black male icons are crumbling, as Janelle would say:

Hit the mute button

Let the vagina have a monologue