Brian Wilson famously approached the vocals as just another instrument, a critical one unquestionably but one which could be blended and moulded much like any other colour from his palette.  And for me it’s been quite a critical element to latch onto, to understand the song and to embrace the melody.  I’ve never been able to quite enjoy instrumental music as much (with the exception of some exceptional contemporary classical pieces by Max Richter, Steve Reich and the like).

So it’s a nice surprise to find William Tyler’s debut LP, Impossible Truth, quite so engaging.  It’s perhaps the Wilson-esque approach to making lush soundscapes where rich harmonies are created by multiple guitar lines instead of men.  Tyler has been plying his trade as a musician for Lambchop and the Silver Jews amongst others over the years and he takes those influences and hints at others (there’s definitely some Strokes and Grizzly Bear style riffs in Cadillac Desert) to weave a beautiful record.

Today on Sunday Sermons we’re celebrating “Wild” BIlly Childish, perhaps the most prolific artist since Leonardo Da Vinci.  Poet, artist, photographer, film maker and most importantly, for this blog at least, legendary cult garage rock icon.  Since 1979, Billy Childish has put out dozens of albums with almost as many collaborators - writing, recording and releasing at lightning pace.  

For those unfamiliar with his catalogue (and there must be few, including the man himself, who are familiar with the entire thing) then My First Billy Childish Album is a great place to start.  His songs are simple and thunderously effective.  It was Da Vinci who said “Simplicity is the ultimate sophistication” after all and Childish boldly espouses that, never letting complex chords, pretentious song structures or unnecessary instruments get in the way of the raw emotion and power of his songs.

Darkstar’s roots are in dance music but their present lies firmly in a genre I can only describe as ambient psychedelic electronica.  A fancy title perhaps but with the closest touchpoints to News From Nowhere, their second full release, being Panda Bear’s Person Pitch or the under-appreciated High Places, it’s quite apt.  Taking a light and fun approach to experimentation, this record keeps you on your toes with variety, colour and, unlike many false princes of this genre, enough hooks to keep this trick fresh and exciting.  An interesting release that could be the foundation for something great next time around.

When Vampire Weekend first burst onto the scene in 2007 with their peppy and preppy A-Punk sound, many would’ve been forgiven for thinking their mix of afrobeat with angular pop hooks was destined for that most ignominious of destinations: the brief but forgotten zeitgeist.  Their debut album fulfilled on the promise of the early EPs and become one of the records of the year but it was never clear how their sound would evolve.  That became relatively clear on their follow-up album Contra, a solid record which did little to diminish nor grow the band’s scope or reputation.

On Modern Vampires Of The City, however, Ezra Koenig and team lift that burden spectacularly with a profound and rich album.  It’s an album full of great pop tunes but the variety and maturity of the songwriting on show here is deeper than the first two records led you to conclude.  It’s more honest and heartfelt, not ashamed to slow things down at times or crystallise the melodies without getting too cheesy.  A potent realisation of Vampire Weekend’s talents, this is a great album.

Deerhunter have always been a band that I’m just on the verge of loving.  Microcastle and Halcyon Digest never quite made it to constant repeat status, despite both being excellent albums.  And on Monomania they seem to have managed the same trick.  After a few lineup changes in the intervening years between albums, they’ve come back with a slight but welcome regression in their sound.  Monomania is a raw record full of sharp guitars and Cox’s rasping voice, something they call “nocturnal garage” - an ode to the darkness, also evident in the sleeve art.  Neon Junkyard, Leather Jacket II and The Missing for a great crackling start to proceedings and the night glow remains throughout.  And so whilst I remain teetering on the edge of adulation, it’ll either be that residual slowburn or the sheer volume of quality now residing in their discography that pushes me over the edge.  

Short and sweet, much like the summer you’re probably enduring whilst reading this, Cayucas’s debut record looks on the sunnier side of life.  What started out as a project (originally titled Oregon Bike Trails) that took samples from 60s classic songs and mashed them together with Zach Yudin’s original instrumentation, has now morphed, thanks in no small part to the input of Richard Swift on production duties, into a full band and sound.  But it’s the essence of summer and Californian coastline living (hence the renaming to Cayucas) that still permeates his songs - seemingly simple but with a pang of ennui, echoing that other great West Coast-based beach group.  While nothing on this record quite matches the sublime first single Swimsuit, it’s an endearing set of songs that you can’t help but enjoy.

If Muchacho only contained Song For Zula, the single that preceded the full-lengther, it would be majestic.  That song alone (surely a contender for one of 2013’s best) is soaring and quietly epic, managing to sound simultaneously striking and vulnerable.  That’s Matthew Houck’s talent and Muchacho is very much a continuation of his previous steps into the realm of sumptuous country rock, begun in earnest on 2010’s Here’s To Taking It Easy.  Alongside the earnest heartbreak, however, there’s also the stomp (on two-edged tracks such as Ride On / Right On and A Charm / A Blade) and the two sit warmly side-by-side on this richly produced record.

In the modern music era, when 9 out of 10 bands sound roughly the same and it’s hard to differentiate between them all as their records are pushed out fast enough to sate the desire of rabid blogs and fans, it’s refreshing to hear a band like Savages who’ve not only taken the time to create a sound, image and manifesto but fiercely stick to it.  It’s a manifesto of brutal ferocity, honesty and a rejection of anything that disconnects you from what really matters.  Their live shows push this manifesto onto the crowd too where audience members are told to get into the show or get out - no camera phones allowed.

All that on its own would be an incomplete part of the overall artistic performance, or just bluster, if it wasn’t backed up by the music.  But their music not only defends the manifesto but emboldens it and grabs you, forcing you to listen.  Whilst their influences are clear - Gang Of Four, Siouxsie and the Banshees and Bauhaus amongst others whilst singer Jenny Beth is more than a facsímile of Ian Curtis - they are never derivative, moulding musical inspiration with cinematic and literary references into something powerfully captivating.  Something uniquely savage, one might say.

For a band that’s been together little over a year, they sound amazingly tight, even moreso in concert.  Individually, they’re superb musicians with Jenny Beth the perfect, engaging vessel for their message.  This is a thrilling debut album, one that dares to stoke the fire and add intelligence back into the rock world, a distillation of their power and their manifesto.  As such, it might be a pivotal album for the times, encouraging listeners to refocus away from the disposable or ephemeral and towards music as a powerful medium and serious art.