Thursday 15 September 2011
Opinion: Awards won by Kasabian
Brit Awards
The Brit Awards is an annual awards ceremony established in 1977. To date, Kasabian has received one award.
| Year | Nominated work | Award | Result |
|---|---|---|---|
| 2005 | Kasabian | Best British Rock Act | Nominated |
| 2005 | Kasabian | Best British Live Act | Nominated |
| 2005 | Kasabian | Best British Group | Nominated |
| 2006 | Kasabian | Best British Rock Act | Nominated |
| 2007 | Kasabian | Best British Live Act | Nominated |
| 2007 | Kasabian | Best British Group | Nominated |
| 2010 | Kasabian | Best British Group | Won |
| 2010 | West Ryder Pauper Lunatic Asylum | Mastercard British Album | Nominated |
Q Awards
The Q Awards are the UK's annual music awards run by music magazine, Q. To date, Kasabian has won two awards.
| Year | Nominated work | Award | Result |
|---|---|---|---|
| 2004 | Kasabian | Best New Act | Nominated |
| 2006 | Empire | Best Video | Nominated |
| 2007 | Kasabian | Best Live Act | Nominated |
| 2009 | Kasabian | Best Live Act | Nominated |
| 2009 | Fire | Best Track | Nominated |
| 2009 | West Ryder Pauper Lunatic Asylum | Best Album | Won |
| 2010 | Kasabian | Best Act In The World Today | Won |
| 2010 | Kasabian | Best Live Act | Nominated |
NME Awards
The NME Awards is an annual music awards show founded by music magazine, NME. To date, Kasabian has won three awards.
| Year | Nominated work | Award | Result |
|---|---|---|---|
| 2007 | Kasabian | Best Live Band | Won |
| 2010 | Kasabian | Best Live Band | Nominated |
| 2010 | Kasabian | Best British Band | Nominated |
| 2010 | West Ryder Pauper Lunatic Asylum | Best Album | Won |
| 2010 | West Ryder Pauper Lunatic Asylum | Best Album Artwork | Won |
MOJO Awards
The MOJO Awards are the UK's annual music awards run by music magazine, MOJO. To date, Kasabian has won one award.
| Year | Nominated work | Award | Result |
|---|---|---|---|
| 2010 | West Ryder Pauper Lunatic Asylum | Best Album | Nominated |
| 2010 | Fire | Song of the Year | Won |
| 2010 | Kasabian | Best Live Act | Nominated |
Opinion: Album track lists
- "Club Foot" – 3:34
- "Processed Beats" – 3:08
- "Reason Is Treason" – 4:35
- "I.D." – 4:47
- "Orange" – 0:46
- "L.S.F. (Lost Souls Forever)" – 3:17
- "Running Battle" – 4:15
- "Test Transmission" – 3:55
- "Pinch Roller" – 1:13
- "Cutt Off" – 4:38
- "Butcher Blues" – 4:28
- "Ovary Stripe" – 3:50
- "U Boat" – 10:51*
Second Album:
- "Empire" (Pizzorno, Karloff) – 3:53
- "Shoot the Runner" – 3:27
- "Last Trip (In Flight)" – 2:53
- "Me Plus One" – 2:28
- "Sun Rise Light Flies" – 4:08
- "Apnoea" – 1:48
- "By My Side" (Pizzorno, Karloff) – 4:14
- "Stuntman" (Pizzorno, Karloff) – 5:19
- "Seek & Destroy" – 2:15
- "British Legion" – 3:19
- "The Doberman" – 5:34
Wednesday 14 September 2011
Tuesday 13 September 2011
Opinion: Album reviews
Kasabian's 3rd Album 'West Ryder Pauper Lunatic Asylum'
Oasis. Lad rock. There, three words in and that’s the phrases obligatory to all Kasabian reviews out of the way. Good. Now we can move on, because they certainly have. Did you see last week’s NME cover? Does that look like a band to be adored solely by Stella-swigging football hooligans? If you haven’t already, go watch the Noel Fielding-starring video to ‘Vlad The Impaler’. In fact, listen to ‘Vlad The Impaler’ or just consider the title ‘Vlad The Impaler’. Hardly ‘Club Foot Part 15’, is it? Sounding more like Animal Collective than The La’s, in these times when one wrong move is seeing bands of Kasabian’s stature sink like stones, it seemed a brave comeback.
Then came that album title. And then that cover. A couple of incendiary secret(-ish) gigs. And then ‘Fire’ – some might say a more orthodox Kasabian single, but still one that contains two time-signature changes, features what could easily be described as “a camp disco bit” and reveals itself after two or three listens to be the most infectious thing they’ve ever done. Point is, all of these moves have resulted in Kasabian, love ’em or loathe ’em, achieving what so many other bands have failed to do: they’ve created a prolonged sense of excitement around the release of their third album. Fast-forward to August of this year, following a series of sure-to-be ecstatic outside sets warming up for Oasis and Bruce Fucking Springsteen at Glasto and everyone will still be talking about them – and just starting to realise how amazing ‘West Ryder Pauper Lunatic Asylum’ really is.
Then came that album title. And then that cover. A couple of incendiary secret(-ish) gigs. And then ‘Fire’ – some might say a more orthodox Kasabian single, but still one that contains two time-signature changes, features what could easily be described as “a camp disco bit” and reveals itself after two or three listens to be the most infectious thing they’ve ever done. Point is, all of these moves have resulted in Kasabian, love ’em or loathe ’em, achieving what so many other bands have failed to do: they’ve created a prolonged sense of excitement around the release of their third album. Fast-forward to August of this year, following a series of sure-to-be ecstatic outside sets warming up for Oasis and Bruce Fucking Springsteen at Glasto and everyone will still be talking about them – and just starting to realise how amazing ‘West Ryder Pauper Lunatic Asylum’ really is.
Opinion: Album reviews
Kasabians 2nd Album Empire
Kasabian won’t mind us saying that they weren’t really all that good to start with. They arrived, glossy and fully-formed, funded by a multinational to live on a farm for 18 months before being ‘launched’ with an expensive guerrilla marketing campaign that made even the ever-placid Alex Kapranos so annoyed that he launched his own tirade at rock’s new super-gobs.
Then, there was the album itself, which was merely alright. To be fair, this wasn’t all Kasabian’s fault: they were peddling the ‘dance rock crossover’, a genre so nefariously difficult that even Depeche Mode – the band who invented it – are now not that good at it. It did its job, but it was clumsy, and scant on soul. Even Serge now describes it as “sketchy nonsense”.
But then something strange happened. It became obvious as soon as Tom Meighan claimed – while on Mani’s shoulders – to be defenders of the north (despite being from Leicester) and denouncing art-rock posers the world over, that for one-liners alone, we had ourselves the most brilliant rock-star personalities we’d had in years. The tone needing lowering, and here were the boys to do it. In two years of partying with Kasabian and their superstar mates, NME has been accused of resembling a “gay Spanish golfer” by Liam Gallagher and of “looking like you have a tiny penis” by Kelly Osbourne.
And even before the Gallaghers anointed Serge and Tom their natural successors, it was obvious that here was a band that were going to unite you indie scruffs with the Kappa crew in no way since Oasis. Kasabian became massive, and we overlooked the fact that they were just, y’know, alright, because they were so much fun to have around.
And then an even stranger thing happened. You see, a shit rock star will cower and baulk in the face of untold success, and start calling their entire audience stupid and blinkered. A brilliant one will dive in feet first, channel this adoration, feed off it and send it back at monstrous gigs that feel like being at church. And this is what happened to Kasabian: just over a year ago, stood in a field somewhere, it suddenly struck us that they’d become an absolutely amazing band. Knowing all this to be true, Tom and Serge started talking up this record a long time ago, claiming repeatedly to be “pregnant” with something that sounded like “Marc Bolan smoking crack with Doctor Who” (can we rest that quote now, please?). Which would have been mighty awkward if ‘Empire’ had been shit. But it’s not. What they have pulled off, in fact, is the Britpack’s first great leap forward.
Plenty’s been made of this new, glam-rock direction, and the opening shot, ‘Empire’ itself, struts forth in platforms with its arse back and its chest forward. But that’s not the whole story. ‘Shoot The Runner’ (the next single) picks up there, but careers off midway into a flourishing, middle-eastern string loop. By now, we’re in full-on summer of love mode, and ‘Last Trip (In Flight)’ is total Beatles-in-Marrakech psychedelia, before bleeding into out-and-out sunshine pop ‘Me Plus One’. “Here you come to take me away/Like a little white rabbit from yesterday”, drawls Tom. Obviously, he’s on about ecstasy, but by now we’re in such a hyper-real Wonderland that he could be singing about Alice and it’d still make sense. Before, Tom was simply the king of the mantra-chant vocal. Here he’s grown into a Baby Jagger, a singer of soul, while Serge’s sleek, voluble guitar, is higher in the mix, taking the lead over the stick-some-beats-over-it approach of last time. Here, the beats are underneath, and more clever. Which isn’t to say they’ve abandoned the dancefloor completely: ‘By My Side’ – a thunderous retelling of dub period Primal Scream is the best tune by a mile, and anyone from Danger Mouse to Simian to Paul bloody Oakenfold could get their hands on it and find themselves with clubland’s next big crossover hit. The only bit that really doesn’t work is the lego-techno instrumental ‘Apnoea’ – a token gesture that feels tacked on at the behest of some Um&Aah man wanting to “ensure maximum penetration across all demographics”. You can skip it, but you won’t want to skip ‘British Legion’ – the Serge-sung acoustic ballad that wobbles the line between genius and excruciating because it, by their own admission, is very, very funny. And then we have ‘The Doberman’. Oh, we have to tell you about ‘The Doberman’ – the thundering finale that channels the spirit of AC/DC through ‘Bitter Sweet Symphony’ to make the sound of the end of the world. Next to Muse’s deranged ‘Knights Of Cydonia’, it’s the most ludicrously ace song of the year, sounding less like a closing track than a big-budget season finale.
Through sheer, bloody-minded belief, weapons-grade stamina and a big, big imagination, Kasabian have willed themselves into brilliance. There’s going to be a hearty scrap between this lot, Muse and the Monkeys when album of the year time comes round.
Then, there was the album itself, which was merely alright. To be fair, this wasn’t all Kasabian’s fault: they were peddling the ‘dance rock crossover’, a genre so nefariously difficult that even Depeche Mode – the band who invented it – are now not that good at it. It did its job, but it was clumsy, and scant on soul. Even Serge now describes it as “sketchy nonsense”.
But then something strange happened. It became obvious as soon as Tom Meighan claimed – while on Mani’s shoulders – to be defenders of the north (despite being from Leicester) and denouncing art-rock posers the world over, that for one-liners alone, we had ourselves the most brilliant rock-star personalities we’d had in years. The tone needing lowering, and here were the boys to do it. In two years of partying with Kasabian and their superstar mates, NME has been accused of resembling a “gay Spanish golfer” by Liam Gallagher and of “looking like you have a tiny penis” by Kelly Osbourne.
And even before the Gallaghers anointed Serge and Tom their natural successors, it was obvious that here was a band that were going to unite you indie scruffs with the Kappa crew in no way since Oasis. Kasabian became massive, and we overlooked the fact that they were just, y’know, alright, because they were so much fun to have around.
And then an even stranger thing happened. You see, a shit rock star will cower and baulk in the face of untold success, and start calling their entire audience stupid and blinkered. A brilliant one will dive in feet first, channel this adoration, feed off it and send it back at monstrous gigs that feel like being at church. And this is what happened to Kasabian: just over a year ago, stood in a field somewhere, it suddenly struck us that they’d become an absolutely amazing band. Knowing all this to be true, Tom and Serge started talking up this record a long time ago, claiming repeatedly to be “pregnant” with something that sounded like “Marc Bolan smoking crack with Doctor Who” (can we rest that quote now, please?). Which would have been mighty awkward if ‘Empire’ had been shit. But it’s not. What they have pulled off, in fact, is the Britpack’s first great leap forward.
Plenty’s been made of this new, glam-rock direction, and the opening shot, ‘Empire’ itself, struts forth in platforms with its arse back and its chest forward. But that’s not the whole story. ‘Shoot The Runner’ (the next single) picks up there, but careers off midway into a flourishing, middle-eastern string loop. By now, we’re in full-on summer of love mode, and ‘Last Trip (In Flight)’ is total Beatles-in-Marrakech psychedelia, before bleeding into out-and-out sunshine pop ‘Me Plus One’. “Here you come to take me away/Like a little white rabbit from yesterday”, drawls Tom. Obviously, he’s on about ecstasy, but by now we’re in such a hyper-real Wonderland that he could be singing about Alice and it’d still make sense. Before, Tom was simply the king of the mantra-chant vocal. Here he’s grown into a Baby Jagger, a singer of soul, while Serge’s sleek, voluble guitar, is higher in the mix, taking the lead over the stick-some-beats-over-it approach of last time. Here, the beats are underneath, and more clever. Which isn’t to say they’ve abandoned the dancefloor completely: ‘By My Side’ – a thunderous retelling of dub period Primal Scream is the best tune by a mile, and anyone from Danger Mouse to Simian to Paul bloody Oakenfold could get their hands on it and find themselves with clubland’s next big crossover hit. The only bit that really doesn’t work is the lego-techno instrumental ‘Apnoea’ – a token gesture that feels tacked on at the behest of some Um&Aah man wanting to “ensure maximum penetration across all demographics”. You can skip it, but you won’t want to skip ‘British Legion’ – the Serge-sung acoustic ballad that wobbles the line between genius and excruciating because it, by their own admission, is very, very funny. And then we have ‘The Doberman’. Oh, we have to tell you about ‘The Doberman’ – the thundering finale that channels the spirit of AC/DC through ‘Bitter Sweet Symphony’ to make the sound of the end of the world. Next to Muse’s deranged ‘Knights Of Cydonia’, it’s the most ludicrously ace song of the year, sounding less like a closing track than a big-budget season finale.
Through sheer, bloody-minded belief, weapons-grade stamina and a big, big imagination, Kasabian have willed themselves into brilliance. There’s going to be a hearty scrap between this lot, Muse and the Monkeys when album of the year time comes round.
Album rewiew from NME: http://www.nme.com/reviews/kasabian/8014
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